Classic Poem

I am the stream, I float your ship,
I am the man at the wheel — I am the stars by which he steers,
I am the fountain and the drinker;
Into me, from me, is the drift of every tide
The seawaves roll and submerge me and drown me,
Yet I am not submerged or drowned,
But, safe and well, singing of life and the ideal,
With the seastorm present and the helmsman as he shudders,
Here on your doorstep as you loiter,
There by your bedside as you sleep and dream,
Action in me, and the impulse of action in me,
Touch every hour to love.