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The Eye

Rating: 2.8

The Atlantic is a stormy moat; and the Mediterranean,
The blue pool in the old garden,
More than five thousand years has drunk sacrifice
Of ships and blood, and shines in the sun; but here the Pacific--
Our ships, planes, wars are perfectly irrelevant.
Neither our present blood-feud with the brave dwarfs
Nor any future world-quarrel of westering
And eastering man, the bloody migrations, greed of power, clash of
faiths--
Is a speck of dust on the great scale-pan.

Here from this mountain shore, headland beyond stormy headland
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Thomas Harris 05 January 2014

This was one of my earliest favorite poems. The image of the eye staring away from the planet at the universe has always stayed with me as a reminder of humankinds insignificance.

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