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Then . . .HawkfacedAcquisitivePHOENICIANS, by the score.Perceptive menSubtle talkersGlib traders on the shore . . .Civilization's gulls!Through the Pillars of Hercules,hinged on the pole-star;spicesperfumesincensecargoes of Egypt, Babylon, Tyre:speared on the pole-star—silver from Iberiaamber from the icy seastin from the rainy islands . . .Teaching savages on sparse, savage coaststhe ordinary laws of barter.Finding no ATLANTIS,city of gold.Though they sailed beyond everything . . .O my Captains, my Navigators, my Mariners—dying therewithout sight of it, dazzling in sunlight,(the towers are honey and milk,the breasts of a good woman are the towers:gold in the morning, pearl at evening)though you sailed beyond everything . . .But where is the beginning of culture, IF NOT HERE—with cardsharp,three-shell-manand Semetic trinket-pedlaroperating on a hostile beach?The silence between one1 "^ WESTERLY, No. 1, MARCH, 1 968