Image

Read "Image" at The Eldritch Dark:

http://www.eldritchdark.com/writings/poetry/248/image

This poem from Clark Ashton Smith (CAS) includes a lot of imagery that is found throughout his body of work, as exemplified by the closing lines: 


I wait forever, and about my face is blown
The sand of crumbling cenotaph and sepulcher.


Those lines immediately call to mind one of my favorite passages from CAS' mighty poem "Nero":


There have been many kings, and they are dead,
And have no power in death save what the wind
Confers upon their blown and brainless dust
To vex the eyeballs of posterity.


However, what grabs my attention in "Image" is some exemplary use of internal rhyme, as from the second stanza:


Whom neither desert darkness nor the desert noon,
Nor dawns that render terrible the bare dead land;


Similar internal rhymes are found thoughout the poem, lending it a majestic cadence that sounds wonderful when read aloud.