At Sea

When the investing darkness growls,

And deep reverberates to deep;

When keyhole whines and chimney howls,

And all the roofs and windows weep;

Then, through the doorless walls of sleep,

The still-sealed ear and shuttered sight,

Phantoms of memory steal and creep,

The very ghosts of sound and light-

Dream-visions and dream-voices of a bygone night.

I see again, I hear again,

Where lightnings flash and house-eaves drip,

A flying swirl of waves and rain-

That storm-path between Sound and Rip.

I feel the swaying of the ship

In every gust that rocks the trees,

And taste that brine upon my lip

And smell the freshness of the breeze

That sped us through the welter of those racing seas.

I hear the menace of the call

To rope and rivet, wheel and mast,

In the swift onrush of the squall,

The challenge of the thundering blast

To daring men as it sweeps past;

And in my dream I have no dread.

Rivet and rope are firm and fast,

The clear lights shining, green and red,

The quiet eyes of sentry watching overhead.

What epic battles pass unsung!

It was a war of gods befell

On that wild night when we were young.

They rode, like cavalry of hell,

The mighty winds, the monstrous swell,

On their white horses, fierce and fleet;

They stood at bay, invincible,

Where pulsed beneath our sliding feet

The faithful iron heart that never lost a beat.

How the sharp sea-spume lashed and stung!

How the salt sea-wind tugged and tare

And clawed and mauled us where we clung,

With panting breasts and streaming hair,

To our frail eyrie in mid-air!

How we exulted in the fight-

With neither haste nor halt to dare

Those Titans furies in their might,

Undaunted and unswerving in our insect flight!

No lap of exquisite repose!

A mortar wherein souls are brayed;

An anvil ringing to the blows

Whereby true men are shaped, and made

Divinely strong and unafraid.

Such gallant sailor-men there be-

Never unready or dismayed,

Though ‘t’s the face of death they see

In cyclone, fire and fog, and white surf on the lee.

Not only in the sylvan bower,

On dreaming hill, by sleeping mere,

The holy place-the sacred hour.

Beset by every form of fear,

Darkness ahead and danger near,

Sorely hard-driven and hard-prest,

But still unspent and of good cheer-

He finds them who can pass the test,

Who never winks an eye and never stays to rest

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A few random poems:

External links

Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

Talking Writing Monster’s Page –

Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• Graydigger’s Home by William Stafford by William Stafford
• For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Atavism by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Ask Me by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Allegiances by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Across Kansas by William Stafford by William Stafford
• A Ritual To Read To Each Other by William Stafford by William Stafford
• Sonnet 127: In the old age black was not counted fair by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 126: O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 125: Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 124: If my dear love were but the child of state by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 123: No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 122: Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 121: Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 120: That you were once unkind befriends me now by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 11: As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 119: What potions have I drunk of Siren tears by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 118: Like as to make our appetite more keen by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 117: Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 116: Let me not to the marriage of true minds by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

More external links (open in a new tab):

Russian Commerce Agency

Dealing Monster

Doska or the Board – write anything

Search engines:

Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)

Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.

Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees

Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.

Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

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