Gloria Mundi
Eunice Tietjens
In what dim, half imagined placeDoes the Titanic lie to-day,Too deep for tide, too deep for spray,In night and saltiness and space?Oh, quiet must the sea-floor be!And very still must be the gloomWhere in each well-appointed roomThe splendor rots unto the sea.Through crannies in the shattered decksThe sea-weed thrusts pale finger-tips,And in the bottom’s jagged ripsWith ghostly hands it waves and becks.The mirrors in the great saloonsSleep darkly in their gilt and brassSave when the silent fishes passWith eyes like phosphorescent moons.On painted walls are slimy things,And strange sea creatures, lithe and cool,Spawn in the marble swimming poolAnd shall, a thousand springs.For as it is, so it shall be,Untouched of time till Doom appears,Too deep for days, too deep for yearsIn the salt quiet of the sea.
In what dim, half imagined placeDoes the Titanic lie to-day,Too deep for tide, too deep for spray,In night and saltiness and space?Oh, quiet must the sea-floor be!And very still must be the gloomWhere in each well-appointed roomThe splendor rots unto the sea.Through crannies in the shattered decksThe sea-weed thrusts pale finger-tips,And in the bottom’s jagged ripsWith ghostly hands it waves and becks.The mirrors in the great saloonsSleep darkly in their gilt and brassSave when the silent fishes passWith eyes like phosphorescent moons.On painted walls are slimy things,And strange sea creatures, lithe and cool,Spawn in the marble swimming poolAnd shall, a thousand springs.For as it is, so it shall be,Untouched of time till Doom appears,Too deep for days, too deep for yearsIn the salt quiet of the sea.
In what dim, half imagined placeDoes the Titanic lie to-day,Too deep for tide, too deep for spray,In night and saltiness and space?
In what dim, half imagined place
Does the Titanic lie to-day,
Too deep for tide, too deep for spray,
In night and saltiness and space?
Oh, quiet must the sea-floor be!And very still must be the gloomWhere in each well-appointed roomThe splendor rots unto the sea.
Oh, quiet must the sea-floor be!
And very still must be the gloom
Where in each well-appointed room
The splendor rots unto the sea.
Through crannies in the shattered decksThe sea-weed thrusts pale finger-tips,And in the bottom’s jagged ripsWith ghostly hands it waves and becks.
Through crannies in the shattered decks
The sea-weed thrusts pale finger-tips,
And in the bottom’s jagged rips
With ghostly hands it waves and becks.
The mirrors in the great saloonsSleep darkly in their gilt and brassSave when the silent fishes passWith eyes like phosphorescent moons.
The mirrors in the great saloons
Sleep darkly in their gilt and brass
Save when the silent fishes pass
With eyes like phosphorescent moons.
On painted walls are slimy things,And strange sea creatures, lithe and cool,Spawn in the marble swimming poolAnd shall, a thousand springs.
On painted walls are slimy things,
And strange sea creatures, lithe and cool,
Spawn in the marble swimming pool
And shall, a thousand springs.
For as it is, so it shall be,Untouched of time till Doom appears,Too deep for days, too deep for yearsIn the salt quiet of the sea.
For as it is, so it shall be,
Untouched of time till Doom appears,
Too deep for days, too deep for years
In the salt quiet of the sea.