HAUNTED SEAS

A gleaming glassy ocean,

Under a sky of gray;

A tide that dreams of motion,

Or moves, as the dead may;

A bird that dips and wavers

Over lone waters round,

Then with a cry that quavers

Is gone — a spectral sound.

The brown sad sea-weed drifting

Far from the land, and lost.

The faint warm fog unlifting,

The derelict long-tossed,

But now at rest — tho haunted

By the death-scenting shark,

Whose prey no more undaunted

Slips from it, spent and stark.