The Oxford Book of Canadian Verse
Non Omnis MoriarArthur Stringer (18741950)
I
In the swirl of the Ebb that sucks me down,
In the face of the storm that flings me back
On the wrath of a Deep grown mountainous-walled,
I, I, tide by tide, and tack by tack,
As far as the chains will let me free—
I threading a course unbuoyed and black,
And feeling the Night where fanged rocks frown,
Ere the last spar sail, shall have somehow crawled
To that Port whence shone no light for me;
Where, wrecked, if you will, but unappalled,
I shall know I am stronger than my Sea!