LA MER
12 lines✦
WHITE mist drifts across the shrouds,A wild moon in this wintry skyGleams like an angry lion’s eyeOut of a mane of tawny clouds. The muffled steersman at the wheelIs but a shadow in the gloom;—And in the throbbing engine-roomLeap the long rods of polished steel. The shattered storm has left its traceUpon this huge and heaving dome,For the thin threads of yellow foamFloat on the waves like ravelled lace.
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