John Masefield

“ Those glittering moments that a spirit lends,
That all may be imagined from the flash,
The cloud-hid god-game through the lightning gash;
Those hours of stricken sparks from which men took
Light to send out to men in song or book ”

“ A soul entirely known is life achieved.
Years blank with hardship never speak a word
Live in the soul to make the being stirred;
Towns can be prisons where the spirit dulls
Away from mates and ocean-wandering hulls,
Away from all bright water and great hills
And sheep-walks where the curlews cry their fills;
Away in towns, where eyes have nought to see
But dead museums and miles of misery
And floating life un-rooted from man’s need
And miles of fish-hooks baited to catch greed
And life made wretched out of human ken
And miles of shopping women served by men. ”

“ To put our weights on, though our hearts were broke,
And both boats seemed to stick and sea seemed glue,
The tide a mill-race we were struggling through;
And every quick recover gave us squints
Of them still there, and oar-tossed water-glints,
And cheering came, our friends, our foemen cheering,
A long, wild, rallying murmur on the hearing,
"Port Fore!" and "Starboard Fore!" "Port Fore!" "Port Fore!" ”