THE CONVERGENCE OF THE TWAIN - Francis Burdett Money-Coutts Poems


Poems » francis burdett money coutts » the convergence of the twain


        In a solitude of the sea
        Deep from human vanity,
And the Pride of Life that planned her, stilly couches she.

        Steel chambers, late the pyres
        Of her salamandrine fires,
Cold currents thrid, and turn to rhythmic tidal lyres.

        Over the mirrors meant
        To glass the opulent
The sea-worm crawls -- grotesque, slimed, dumb, indifferent.

        Jewels in joy designed
        To ravish the sensuous mind
Lie lightless, all their sparkles bleared and black and blind.

        Dim moon-eyed fishes near
        Gaze at the gilded gear
And query: "What does this vaingloriousness down here?" ...

        Well: while was fashioning
        This creature of cleaving wing,
The Immanent Will that stirs and urges everything

        Prepared a sinister mate
        For her -- so gaily great --
A Shape of Ice, for the time far and dissociate.

        And as the smart ship grew
        In stature, grace, and hue,
In shadowy silent distance grew the Iceberg too.

        Alien they seemed to be;
        No mortal eye could see
The intimate welding of their later history,

        Or sign that they were bent
        By paths coincident
On being anon twin halves of one august event,

        Till the Spinner of the Years
        Said "Now!" And each one hears,
And consummation comes, and jars two hemispheres.