Sinopsis

“Eastward, afar, the coasts of men were seen Dim, shadowy, and spectral; like a still Broad land of spirits lay the vacant sea Beneath the silent heavens—here and there, Perchance, a vessel skimmed the watery waste, Like a white-winged sea-bird, but it moved Too pale and small beneath the vail of space. There, too, went forth the sun Like a white angel, going down to visit The silent, ice-washed cloisters of the Pole.” —Richter’s “Titan.” More than fifty years ago this thing happened