To the maiden
The sea was blue meadow,
Alive with little froth-people
Singing.
To the sailor, wrecked,
The sea was dead grey walls
Superlative in vacancy,
Upon which nevertheless at fateful time
Was written
The grim hatred of nature.
To the maiden
The sea was blue meadow,
Alive with little froth-people
Singing.
To the sailor, wrecked,
The sea was dead grey walls
Superlative in vacancy,
Upon which nevertheless at fateful time
Was written
The grim hatred of nature.
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The world may dictate your view of existence, depending upon particular circumstances. “The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of Hell, or hell of Heaven.”–John Milton
This is a beautiful poem Stephen Crane is a gifted poet.
The use of two separate viewpoints is cleverly used. The first stanza is the view of a maiden, a young woman whose innocence view of life is yet to be tainted, a maiden who has freedom and long life ahead. To the sailor, who has no hope of reaching shore, the ocean is a cruel tool of nature, that is gray and dreary. There is no innocence left in his view, as he is appear of Nature’s hand at that fateful time.
I thought it was pretty dull and could barely understand what he was talking about. But thats why i like it.