Classic Poem

That life go droning on we learn to ask,
With sunshine on the floor, a cat near by,
A lazy wheel's low stir our only task,
And last soft-fingered twilight drawing nigh,
And shutters closed. Serenely then to lie
And sleep were good.—Thank God it may not be!
The arrogant insistence of the sea
Shall grow less urgent to a listening ear,
Than shall unto our hearts the haunting plea
Of times about us, full of fate and fear.