E. H. Visiak
Reading edition
Lamps and Lanterns
When I had sight, great glamour was In myriad lamps of coloured glass: Old lamps for new I never sold; For old were new, and new were old. And Chinese lanterns, paper globes, Were Dragon Gods in tissue robes That stood on air with squat, round shoon, Beneath the thin, receded Moon.
Contents / Contents, p. 4
Stranded
Dusk gathers. On the seaward hedge The wild hops, hanging bright, Gleam as a foam-spray flung on sedge From a sea of golden light. A ship lies heavy on the sands Above the warped, wan tide, Whose waves thrust ineffectual hands Beneath its murmuring side. They cannot lift the monstrous hulk, Nor break the ghostly spell; The ship lies dreaming, all her bulk Racked on a shoal of hell. I hear the sullen timbers creak, With echoings deep and numb; No other sound: nor groan nor shriek; For agony is dumb! But at the seams, in every crack, A beaded sweat appears: The soul that's stretched on such a rack Can shed no other tears!
Contents / Contents, p. 4