Middle-sea and Lear-sea (continued)
Certain he’s part of the olden timbers: watch out for the run o’ the grain on him—look how his ancient knarsa are salted and the wounds of the bitter sea on him.
He’s drained it again.
and again they brim it.
Is it the Iacchosb
in his duffle jacket
Ischyrosc with his sea-boots on?
There’s those avers he’s wintered with Cronosd
out of our mare
into their See.1
Was it dropped to half gale or did he get it bellyful from off-shore
at hurricano strength
cataracted, sulphurous and all
when he stood into
—they say he made Thulê.
Did he hold his course
where, at the wide gusset
it’s thirty-five leagues?
where Môr Iwerddon3 meets
where the seas of the islands war with the ocean,
to white the horse-king’s insulae