The scramble for script presence
Prominent and impasive pieces of the puzzle,
Force their way to the print essence
Paramount are all but the blaze; ...
Her nature is the sea's, that smiles to-night
A radiant maiden in the moon's soft light;
The unsuspecting seaman sets his sails,
Forgetful of the fury of her gales;
To-morrow, mad with storms, the ocean roars,
And o'er his hapless wreck the flood she pours!