The storm

Now here, now there, the wild waves sweep,
Whilst we, betwixt them o’er the deep,
In shatter’d tempest-beaten bark,
With laboring ropes are onward driven,
The billows dashing o’er our dark
Upheaved deck—in tatters riven
Our sails—whose yawning rents between
The raging sea and sky are seen.

– Alcaeus

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