"Break, break, break"
Though I live, rising, falling,
As thou, tormented sea.
And thou art the slave
Of the moon upon the distant shores;
Yea, and the mighty wind as well
Doth make you tumble
Even while thou art confined,
Energy chained, beauty contained,
Do you still rebel
And fire thy vented anger:
For anger can be beauty
And thou, puffing against thy chains,
Do show the valiant heart.
—jim sloman, fall 1959
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