Through A Porthole

If you could lie upon this berth, this berth
  whereon I lie,
If you could see a tiny peak uplift its
  tingled tusk,
If you could see the purple hills against
  the changing sky,
And see a shadowed pinnacle lying in the dusk;
If you could see the sabre-moon shining
  on the deep;
You'd say the world was not unkind, but just
  a sleeping child,
You'd say the world has gone to sleep.
  And while it slept
  it smiled.