Page:Carroll - Phantasmagoria and other poems (1869).djvu/180

168 "See! The good ship yields at last!
 * Dumbly yields, and fights no more;

Driving in the frantic blast
 * Headlong on the fatal shore.

"Hark! I hear her battered side,
 * With a low and sullen shock,

Dashed amid the foaming tide
 * Full upon a sunken rock.

"His face shines out against the sky,
 * Like a ghost, so cold and white;

With a dead despairing eye
 * Gazing through the gathered night.

"Is he watching, through the dark,
 * Where a mocking ghostly hand

Points to yonder feeble spark
 * Glimmering from the distant land?