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Bookwormom: December 2. THE ICEBERGby Charles G. D. Roberts I was spawned from the glacier,A thousand miles due north. Beyond Cape Chidley; And the spawning,When my vast, wallowing bulk went under, 5 Emerged and heaved aloft,Shaking down cataracts from its rocking sides,With mountainous surge and thunder. Outraged the silence of the Arctic sea. Before I was thrust forth.

A thousand years I crept,Crawling, crawling, crawling irresistibly,Hid in the blue womb of the eternal ice,While under me the tortured rock. Groaned, 1. 5 And over me the immeasurable desolation slept. Under the pallid dawning. Of the lidless Arctic day.

Forever no life stirred. No wing of bird—2. Of ghostly owl low winnowing. Or fleet- winged ptarmigan fleeing the pounce of death,—No foot of backward- glancing fox. Half glimpsed, and vanishing like a breath,—No lean and gauntly stalking bear, 2.

Stalking his prey. Only the white sun, circling the white sky.

Only the wind screaming perpetually. And then the night—The long night, naked, high over the roof of the world,3.

Where time seemed frozen in the cold of space,—Now black, and torn with cry. Of unseen voices where the storm raged by,Now radiant with spectral light. As the vault of heaven split wide 3.

To let the flaming Polar cohorts through,And close ranked spears of gold and blue,Thin scarlet and thin green,Hurtled and clashed across the sphere. And hissed in sibilant whisperings, 4. And died. And then the stark moon, swinging low,Silver, indifferent, serene,Over the sheeted snow. But now, an Alp afloat,4. In seizure of the surreptitious tide,Began my long drift south to a remote. And unimagined doom.

Scornful of storm,Unjarred by thunderous buffeting of seas, 5. Shearing the giant floes aside,Ploughing the wide- flung ice- fields in a spume.

That smoked far up my ponderous flanks,Onward I fared,My ice- blue pinnacles rendering back the sun 5. In darts of sharp radiance; My bases fathoms deep in the dark profound. And now around me.

Life, and the frigid waters all aswarm. The smooth wave creamed. With tiny capelin and the small pale squid,—So pale the light struck through them. Gulls and gannets screamed. Over the feast, and gorged themselves, and rose,A clamour of weaving wings, and hid 6. Momently my face.

The great bull whales. With cavernous jaws agape,Scooped in the spoil, and slept,Their humped forms just awash, and rocking softly,— 7. Watch Knockin On Heavens Door Full Movie. Or sounded down, down to the deeps, and nosed. Along my ribbed and sunken roots,And in the green gloom scattered the pasturing cod. And so I voyaged on, down the dim parallels,Convoyed by fields.

Of countless calving seals. Mild- featured, innocent- eyed, and unforeknowing. The doom of the red flenching knives. I passed the storm- racked gate.

Of Hudson Strait, 8. And savage Chidley where the warring tides. In white wrath seethe forever. Down along the sounding shore.

Of iron- fanged, many- watered Labrador. Slow weeks I shaped my course, and saw 8. Dark Mokkowic and dark Napiskawa,And came at last off lone Belle Isle, the bane.

Of ships and snare of bergs. Here, by the deep conflicting currents drawn,I hung, 9. And swung,The inland voices Gulfward calling me. To ground amid my peers on the alien strand.

And roam no more. But then an off- shore wind, 9. A great wind fraught with fate,Caught me and pressed me back,And I resumed my solitary way. Slowly I bore. South- east by bastioned Bauld,1. And passed the sentinel light far- beaming late. Along the liners’ track,And slanted out Atlanticwards, until. Above the treacherous swaths of fog.

Faded from the view the loom of Newfoundland. Beautiful, ethereal.

In the blue sparkle of the gleaming day,A soaring miracle. Of white immensity,I was the cynosure of passing ships 1. That wondered and were gone,Their wreathed smoke trailing them beyond the verge. And when in the night they passed—The night of stars and calm,Forged up and passed, with churning surge 1. And throb of huge propellers, and long- drawn. Luminous wake behind,And sharp, small lights in rows,I lay a ghost of menace chill and still,A shape pearl- pale and monstrous, off to leeward, 1. Blurring the dim horizon line.

Day dragged on day,And then came fog,By noon, blind- white,And in the night. Black- thick and smothering the sight. Folded therein I waited,Waited I knew not what. And heeded not,Greatly incurious and unconcerned. I heard the small waves lapping along my base,Lipping and whispering, lisping with bated breath. A casual expectancy of death. I heard remote. The deep, far carrying note 1.

Blown from the hoarse and hollow throat. Of some lone tanker groping on her course. Louder and louder rose the sound.

In deepening diapason, then passed on,Diminishing, and dying,— 1. And silence closed around. And in the silence came again.

Those stealthy voices,That whispering of death. And then I heard. The thud of screws approaching. Near and more near,Louder and yet more loud,Through the thick dark I heard it,—The rush and hiss of waters as she ploughed 1. Head on, unseen, unseeing,Toward where I stood across her path, invisible. And then a startled blare.

Of horror close re- echoing,—a glare. Of sudden, stabbing searchlights 1. That but obscurely pierced the gloom; And there. I towered, a dim immensity of doom. A roar. Of tortured waters as the giant screws,1. Reversed, thundered full steam astern.

Yet forward still she drew, until,Slow answering desperate helm,She swerved, and all her broadside came in view,Crawling beneath me; 1. And for a moment I saw faces, blanched,Stiffly agape, turned upward, and wild eyes. Astare; and one long, quavering cry went up. As a submerged horn gored her through and through,Ripping her beam wide open; 1. And sullenly she listed, till her funnels.

Crashed on my steep,And men sprang, stumbling, for the boats. But now, my deep foundations. Mined by those warmer seas, the hour had come. When I must change. Slowly I leaned above her,Slowly at first, then faster,And icy fragments rained upon her decks. Then my enormous mass descended on her, 1. A falling mountain, all obliterating,—And the confusion of thin, wailing cries,The Babel of shouts and prayers.

And shriek of steam escaping. Suddenly died. 1. And I rolled over,Wallowing,And once more came to rest,My long hid bases heaved up high in air.

And now, from fogs emerging,1. I traversed blander seas,Forgot the fogs, the scourging.

Of sleet- whipped gales, forgot. My austere origin, my tremendous birth,My journeyings, and the last cataclysm 1. Of overwhelming ruin. My squat, pale, alien bulk.