After the whistle's roar has bellowed and shuddered, Shaking the sleeping town and the somnolent river, The deep toned floating of the pilot's bell Suddenly warns the engines. They stop like heart-beats that abruptly stop, The shore glides to us, in a wide low curve. And then -- supreme revelation of the river -- The tackle is loosed -- the long gangplank swings outwards -- And poised at the end of it, half-naked beneath the searchlight, A blue-black negro with gleaming teeth waits for his chance to leap. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER VERLAINE by ANSELM HOLLO TO MY MERE ENGLISH CENSURER by BEN JONSON LAODAMIA by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |