Classic Poem

The mighty world is like the mighty surge;
Billow on billow rises and retreats,
Yet each the others' countenance repeats,
Or doth in magnitude alone diverge.
The caverned Siren tarries to emerge;
Past unattempted shores the seaman fleets;
The timorous sail in shallows tacks and beats;
The sail adventurous lessens to the verge.
'Tis wreck, if any drift of worth be spied;
If aught of verdure, 'tis but drift of weed,
Disrooted in the ocean's stormy whirl.
Three blissful fare the barrenness beside;
The eye that watches till the wave recede,
The heart that knows, the hand that grasps the pearl.