Wednesday, 29 November 2017

Prophetess of Atlantis


1 comment:

  1. Atlantis
    by: Clark Ashton Smith (1893-1961)
    Above its domes the gulfs accumulate.
    Far up, the sea-gales blare their bitter screed:
    But here the buried waters take no heed—
    Deaf, and with welded lips pressed down by weight
    Of the upper ocean. Dim, interminate,
    In cities over-webbed with somber weed,
    Where galleons crumble and the krakens breed,
    The slow tide coils through sunken court and gate.

    From out the ocean's phosphor-starry dome,
    A ghostly light is dubitably shed
    On altars of a goddess garlanded
    With blossoms of some weird and hueless vine;
    And, wingéd, fleet, through skies beneath the foam,
    Like silent birds the sea-things dart and shine.

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