THE ATLANTIC IN STORM
Here at last is the ocean indeed
Full of boisterous dancing wild;
Only then is a life being lived by man
When stir and turmoil rule his self.
It is laughter this moment and crying next,
Playing and singing then again;
No story of rest, no message of peace
Finds echo in heroic hearts.
Changes on changes' heels I see around me
In the sport of colours and waves;
Here in this full swing of wanton revels
No rules and canons one can find.
Foolish that thou thinkest perchance thou hast
Caught life's being firm within thy hands;
Forthwith insolently thee it eludes
In splashing, booming, breaking gait.
Whenever once thou understandest life.
Its dignity is surely lost;
But that it is not ever to be grasped
Is its grand mystery and strength.
Thou, in love with storm, inviting ruin,
Thy waves bombarding the highest decks,
O Atlantic, my companion long,
Aeons thy spirit in me dwells!
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