Becalmed Poem by John Bannister Tabb
Becalmed
The bar is crossed: but Death-the pilot-stands
In seeming doubt before the tranquil deep;
The fathom-line still trembling in his hands,
As when upon the treacherous shoals of sleep.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: death,sleep
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8/16/2026 3:58:21 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
