Fragment

This bulk wrecks through the gloomy lanes
On a night held airy of furrows, lapped
In shores whose occasional, calming ripple
Explains the double dimmed light of the moon,
Sapping the eastern rise of her summit
In glistering crowns through tides obscure,
Vaguish and wand'ring, shadowy listener
To the late night's not yet news. This behemoth
Rumbles into port and docks, wraiths
Fasten her with knots and cables, clasp escapes
In a self-tripling prison of rope. Like an eagled cage
She squats over the shore, and menaces
Long bars, the leaning slant of tap'ring poles,
With precisely looming prow. Insects creep
Across the clipper's wings, bearing loads of encased mass
On their stooping backs...