Held in the wrinkle of a giant’s skin
Motionless, blue, a port-hole on the sky
Reflecting the high light, a tiny glass;
Or like a shield of azure polished tin
By unknown warrior cast down carelessly
When, stumbling on these teeth, his soul did pass !
Thus to the distant eye. But closer in
Look down and see with awful mimicry
The world herein enshrined, the pulsing mass
Unheedful of the far surf ‘s sullen din !
Warm is it here; for a brief while content
The little creatures dart, enjoy their hour.
But by degrees with stealth and unmatch’d power,
Creeps in the tide bringing bewilderment !
Weekly Times 30.9.60