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 | Leaves of grass. |  |
6
33 I turn, but do not
extricate myself,
Confused, a past-reading, another, but with darkness yet.
34 The beach is cut by the razory ice-wind — the wreck- guns sound,
The tempest lulls — the moon comes floundering through the drifts.
35 I look where the ship helplessly heads end on — I hear the burst as she strikes — I hear the howls of dismay — they grow fainter and fainter.
36 I cannot aid with my wringing fingers,
I can but rush to the surf, and let it drench me and freeze upon me.
37 I search with the crowd — not one of the company is wash'd to us alive;
In the morning I help pick up the dead and lay them in rows in a barn.
Confused, a past-reading, another, but with darkness yet.
34 The beach is cut by the razory ice-wind — the wreck- guns sound,
The tempest lulls — the moon comes floundering through the drifts.
35 I look where the ship helplessly heads end on — I hear the burst as she strikes — I hear the howls of dismay — they grow fainter and fainter.
36 I cannot aid with my wringing fingers,
I can but rush to the surf, and let it drench me and freeze upon me.
37 I search with the crowd — not one of the company is wash'd to us alive;
In the morning I help pick up the dead and lay them in rows in a barn.
| Leaves of grass. | |