To J. A. C.
Fresh from his fastnesses Wholesome and spacious, The North Wind, the mad huntsman, Halloas on his white hounds Over the grey, roaring Reaches and ridges, The forest of ocean, The chace of the world.
Hark to the peal Of the pack in full cry, As he thongs them before him, Swarming voluminous, Weltering, wide-wallowing, Till in a ruining Chaos of energy, Hurled on their quarry, They crash into foam!
Old Indefatigable, Time's right-hand man, the sea Laughs as in joy From his millions of wrinkles:
Laughs that his destiny, Great with the greatness Of triumphing order, Shows as a dwarf By the strength of his heart And the might of his hands.
Master of masters, O maker of heroes, Thunder the brave, Irresistible message:-
'Life is worth Living Through every grain of it, From the foundations To the last edge Of the cornerstone, death.'
