| Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936). Verse: 1885–1918. 1922. | | | | The Deep-sea Cables |
| | | THE WRECKS dissolve above us; their dust drops down from afar— | |
| Down to the dark, to the utter dark, where the blind white sea-snakes are. | |
| There is no sound, no echo of sound, in the deserts of the deep, | |
| Or the great grey level plains of ooze where the shell-burred cables creep. | |
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| Here in the womb of the world—here on the tie-ribs of earth | 5 |
| Words, and the words of men, flicker and flutter and beat— | |
| Warning, sorrow, and gain, salutation and mirth— | |
| For a Power troubles the Still that has neither voice nor feet. | |
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| They have wakened the timeless Things; they have killed their father Time; | |
| Joining hands in the gloom, a league from the last of the sun. | 10 |
| Hush! Men talk to-day o’er the waste of the ultimate slime, | |
| And a new Word runs between: whispering, “Let us be one!” | | | | |
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