26 Bulletin, Vanderbilt Marine Museum, Vol. IV 



MEDUSA. 



"I looked down into the current 



And saw Medusa pass, 

 A delicate tinted creature, 



Like languidly pulsing glass; 

 An exquisite filmy nothing 



That has no meaning for me, 

 And yet she is holding the heart 



Of the sea. 



"Why are the oceans stirring, 



What makes their waters run 

 Cold from the inshore icebergs, 



Warm from the offshore sun, 

 Green where the banks lie sleeping, 



Blue in the deeps outside ; — 

 All are Medusa's servants, 



Hers to ride. 



So in the sea of letters 



Some artfully shaded word 

 Is drifted down the ages 



Sure as a homing bird, 

 Unreal and without substance, 



Yet meaning more to you 

 Than all of the hard statistics 



That are true." 



— J. T. Nichols. 



