The Convergence of the Twain Text of the Poem
by Thomas Hardy

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Text of the Poem

(Lines on the loss of the Titanic)


            In a solitude of the sea
            Deep from human vanity,
 And the Pride of Life that planned her, stilly couches she.


            Steel chambers, late the pyres
            Of her salamandrine fires,
 Cold currents thrid, and turn to rhythmic tidal lyres.


            Over the mirrors meant
            To glass the opulent
 The sea-worm crawls — grotesque, slimed, dumb, indifferent.


            Jewels in joy designed
            To ravish the sensuous mind
 Lie lightless, all their sparkles bleared and black and blind.


            Dim moon-eyed fishes near
            Gaze at the gilded gear
 And query: "What does this vaingloriousness down here?" ...


            Well: while was fashioning
            This creature of cleaving wing,
 The Immanent Will that stirs and urges everything


            Prepared a sinister mate
            For her — so gaily great —
 A Shape of Ice, for the time far and dissociate.


            And as the smart ship grew
            In stature, grace, and hue,
 In shadowy silent distance grew the Iceberg too.


            Alien they seemed to be;
            No mortal eye could see
 The intimate welding of their later history,


            Or sign that they were bent
            By paths coincident
 On being anon twin halves of one august event,


            Till the Spinner of the Years
            Said "Now!" And each one hears,
 And consummation comes, and jars two hemispheres.