POLYPHEMUS MADDN'D
Louis A. MacKay

. . . . Looked up to see
Showiring fountain-stars in the soft-piled night
Curved close above him in the low familiar dome
Over the upturned faces of quiet folk and pale flowers;
Showering with a faint hiss and a silvery patter
Into the shining level of the mist-sea'd lowland
Lipping against the sheer-down mountain-edge below him.

Thought of broad day blazing on blue jewelled water,
On the sharp sea breaking to million wingy arrow-heads,
Into a shifting spilling glitter sparkling and spattering hastily,
Slowly rose, not a stone's throw out from the shore
Galatea alone, with cool disdainful arms;
On her smooth still body the bitter sea fawning,
Pressing along her slender length with hurries caresses insatiable,
Drifted her heavy hair and danced in the tresses' ends.
So she rose and lay along on the winking water,
Looked to the shore and the long blue hills and the silly shaggy monster sighing.
Saw him unseeing with so great disdain
She would not even turn her eyes away.

Slowly fades the sun and the mocking ocean;
Only the black rock about and the misty valley under him.
only and always above, the slow smoke sliding
Steadily out of the hill far overhead to the horthward; only
In a level line far to the north the grey smoke trailing.