With a dry burning smile up zenith-ward,
Into the broad blue quiet of the sky:
Quiet the sea-kissed shore—noiseless the hills—
All soothed the Titan pulses of the deep—
And the huge-breathing winds were caverned all,
Moveless, and murmurless, as somewhere near
Some god were chambered, pillowed in sweet rest.
A bark was on the deep; and some few men,
Plain-garbed, and bronzed by life-expending toil,
Looked steadily down into the unwinking main,