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1886–1950

V

John Gould Fletcher

Beyond the land there lies the sea; And on the sea with wings unfurled, Bloodily huge the sunset rests, Feathers flickering and claws curled,

Watching to seize the ruined world. Rolling in a torrent, Brown leaves, my achievements, Rise up from dark-wooded valleys

And scatter themselves on the sea; Brown birds, my wild dreams, Mingle their bodies together, Shrieking and clamouring as they pass,

Black charred silhouettes Against the west, curtained in orange flame. Now the wind starts up And strikes the seething water:

Hissing in uncoiled fury Each foam-curled wave darts forward To clash and batter The smouldering iron-rust cliff,

Where the end of my road is lost. Rise up, black clouds; Pounce upon the sunset: Tear it with your jagged teeth.

Fling yourselves, seething winds, in circles Upon the blue-black water, Swirl, leaves, and dance Amid the chaos of breakers,

Flicker, birds, an instant Against the tawny tiger throat of the sun Which is snarling in the west. Beat down, O great winds, westward,

Loose reins and gallop to seaward, Rush me, too, to that ocean, In which I have found my goal. Lash me, lap me, rugged waves of blue-black water,

Dash me, clutch me and do not let me rest one instant; All through the purple-blue night rock and soothe me, Till I awaken dreamingly at the faint rose breast of the dawn.

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V · John Gould Fletcher · Poetry Cove