The Fog
E. J. Pratt
It stole in on us like a foot-pad, Somewhere out of the sea and air, Heavy with rifling Polaris And the Seven Stars. It left our eyes untouched, But took our sight, And then, Silently, It drew the song from our throats, And the supple bend from our ash-blades; For the bandit, With occult fingering, Had tangled up The four threads of the compass, And fouled the snarl around our dory.
Next 10 Poems
- E. J. Pratt : The Ground Swell
- E. J. Pratt : The Ice-floes
- E. J. Pratt : The Midnight Revels As Observed By The Shades
- E. J. Pratt : The Return Of The Cat
- E. J. Pratt : The Sea-cat
- E. J. Pratt : The Shark
- E. J. Pratt : The Supreme Test
- E. J. Pratt : The Toll Of The Bells
- E. J. Pratt : The Witches' Brew
- Matthew Prior : A Better Answer
Previous 10 Poems
- E. J. Pratt : The Flight Of The Immortals
- E. J. Pratt : The Drowning
- E. J. Pratt : The Charge Of The Swordfish
- E. J. Pratt : The Big Fellow
- E. J. Pratt : Sea-gulls
- E. J. Pratt : Overheard By A Stream
- E. J. Pratt : Other Ingredients
- E. J. Pratt : Newfoundland
- E. J. Pratt : Inventory Of Hades
- E. J. Pratt : Defensive Measures
