(Lines on the loss of the "Titanic")

I



In a solitude of the sea



Deep from human vanity,



And the Pride of Life that planned her, stilly couches she.







II



Steel chambers, late the pyres



Of her salamandrine fires,



Cold currents thrid, and turn to rhythmic tidal lyres.







III



Over the mirrors meant



To glass the opulent



The sea-worm crawls — grotesque, slimed, dumb, indifferent.







IV



Jewels in joy designed



To ravish the sensuous mind



Lie lightless, all their sparkles bleared and black and blind.







V



Dim moon-eyed fishes near



Gaze at the gilded gear



And query: "What does this vaingloriousness down here?" ...







VI



Well: while was fashioning



This creature of cleaving wing,



The Immanent Will that stirs and urges everything







VII



Prepared a sinister mate



For her — so gaily great —



A Shape of Ice, for the time far and dissociate.







VIII



And as the smart ship grew



In stature, grace, and hue,



In shadowy silent distance grew the Iceberg too.







IX



Alien they seemed to be;



No mortal eye could see



The intimate welding of their later history,







X



Or sign that they were bent



By paths coincident



On being anon twin halves of one august event,







XI



Till the Spinner of the Years



Said "Now!" And each one hears,



And consummation comes, and jars two hemispheres.





