Sunday, October 5, 2014

Ominous Radiance



Sometimes words wrack me with their power-- I could fall down and drown in them.

This week I collided with Melville's poem "The Berg; A Dream" and have re-read it multiple times, giddy with it, while fearing its danger.

Above all, this ominous radiance:

"Along the spurs of ridges pale,
Not any slenderest shaft and frail,
A prism over glass-green gorges lone,
Toppled; or lace of traceries fine,
Nor pendant drops in grot or mine
Were jarred, when the stunned ship went down."

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