The inhabitants--as on a ship
beat by a succession of wild waves,
between which wait quiet troughs--
dance to their enormous joy
on every worn part, every oar,
wrack day by day, interminably,
this rolling craft; it tries their skill,
but each of them, dauntless,
dances still, and the roiling maw
of the ocean's jaw, pitiless, friendless,
rage it will.
Cool - Gribbit likes the Gnome Flu but sincerely hopes you are feeling better.
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