Unresting hydras wrought of bloody light
Dip to the ocean’s phosphorescent caves.
What other words could so vividly describe gleams of fire on a troubled sea? Who but a masterful poet could describe them at all?
There priestesses in purple robes hold each
A sultry garnet to the sea-linkt sun,
Or, just before the colored morning shakes
A splendor on the ruby-sanded beach,
Cry unto Betelgeuze a mystic word.
Faith! I would give value to know that word!
Where icy philters brim with scarlet foam.