Page:A midsummer holiday and other poems (IA midsummerholiday00swin).pdf/120

 For there, though night and day conspire To compass round with toil and snare And changeless whirl of change, whose gyre Draws all things deathwards unaware, The spirit of life they scourge and scare, Wild waves that follow on waves that flee Laugh, knowing that yet, though earth despair, Life yearns for solace toward the sea.