The Fortitude Of The North
_Under the Disaster of the Second Manassas_
They take no shame for dark defeat
While prizing yet each victory won,
Who fight for the Right through all retreat,
Nor pause until their work is done.
The Cape-of-Storms is proof to every throe;
Vainly against that foreland beat
Wild winds aloft and wilder waves below:
The black cliffs gleam through rents in sleet
When the livid Antarctic storm-clouds glow.
poem by Herman Melville
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Out Of The Depths
Lost! Lost! Lost!
The cry went up from a sea --
The waves were wild with an awful wrath,
Not a light shone down on the lone ship's path;
The clouds hung low:
Lost! Lost! Lost!
Rose wild from the hearts of the tempest-tossed.
Lost! Lost! Lost!
The cry floated over the waves --
Far over the pitiless waves;
It smote on the dark and it rended the clouds;
The billows below them were weaving white shrouds
Out of the foam of the surge,
And the wind-voices chanted a dirge:
Lost! Lost! Lost!
Wailed wilder the lips of the tempest-tossed.
Lost! Lost! Lost!
Not the sign of a hope was nigh,
In the sea, in the air, or the sky;
And the lifted faces were wan and white,
There was nothing without them but storm and night
And nothing within but fear.
But far to a Father's ear:
Lost! Lost! Lost!
Floated the wail of the tempest-tossed.
Lost! Lost! Lost!
Out of the depths of the sea --
Out of the night and the sea;
And the waves and the winds of the storm were hushed,
And the sky with the gleams of the stars was flushed.
Saved! Saved! Saved!
And a calm and a joyous cry
Floated up through the starry sky,
In the dark -- in the storm -- 'Our Father' is nigh.
poem by Abram Joseph Ryan
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Adamastor
Nearing the Cape of storms
ships sail and sailors pray
to their gods to prevail
when suddenly out of the blue
storm clouds gather
and lightning bolts flash down
while unseen and like a phantom
the giant of the ages
barbaric and savage
the Titan Adamastor
watches ever morose,
resentful and unforgiving
drawing the sea in his fist
and throwing a great
unpredicted crashing wave,
causing sudden storms
and gale force winds,
calling thunder to hit down
like Thor’s hammer
and in his workshop brewing storms
and out of the granite rocks at times
where his body lies entombed
his spirit rises angry.
Numerous ships are wrecked
along the shore,
where giant elder god Adamastor
rages ashore
among the sandstone cliffs
and in anger forever more
sends storms, great winds
and throwing thick fog
to draw ships on ridges and sharp rocks.
[References: Rounding the Cape by Roy Campbell and Canto V Vasco da Gama (Os Lusiadas) by Luis de Camões.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Interval
Gone the wild day:
A wilder night
Coming makes way
For brief twilight.
Where the firm soaked road
Mounts and is lost
In the high beech-wood
It shines almost.
The beeches keep
A stormy rest,
Breathing deep
Of wind from the west.
The wood is black,
With a misty steam.
Above, the cloud pack
Breaks for one gleam.
But the woodman's cot
By the ivied trees
Awakens not
To light or breeze.
It smokes aloft
Unwavering:
It hunches soft
Under storm's wing.
It has no care
For gleam or gloom:
It stays there
While I shall roam,
Die, and forget
The hill of trees,
The gleam, the wet,
This roaring peace.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Song of the Crew of Diaz
On the Discovery of the Cape of Good Hope,
or Cape of Storms
Where no sound was ever heard
But the ocean's hollow roar,
As it breaks, in foamy mountains,
Along the rugged shore:
Where ev'ry wind of heaven
That has terror on its wings,
Howls to the startled echo
That through each cavern rings:
Upon that world of waters,
Where nought has ever pass'd
But the storm-bird's glittering pinions,
As it whirls amidst the blast—
Where no sail has ever wandered
Beneath that troubled sky,
Frowns the stately Cape of Storms
O'er the drear immensity!
Above whose hoary summit,
Where captive thunders sleep,
Three huge black clouds for ever
Their dreadful station keep.
We have gazed on what no other
Has ever gazed upon—
We have braved the angry spirits,
And our victory is won.
We have conquered all the dangers
Of a yet unfathom'd sea;
And we bring the prize of glory.
Our country, Spain, to thee!
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Impenetrable
The bleak black basalt cliffs which form.
A barrier to Atlantic storms
Which sweep in from the open sea.
Are not a place I'd choose to be
When winter storms are at their height
and batter them without respite.
The basalt rocks are obdurate
They stubbornly accept their fate
Although the storms may rage and roar
The cliffs have seen it all before.
Wind driven waves have small effect.
On basalt cliffs which still protect.
Old Ireland from the angry sea.
they do their duty faithfully.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Weather Hurricane Storms With Good Friends
dark summer storm clouds encase dark horizons
dark summer storm clouds close lost horizons
season of summer storms sweeps in across seas
rains come storms come closing tourist beaches
cold rain hurricane storms threaten new floods
batten down windows close shut tight exit doors
good time to weather storms with life true friends
poem by Terence George Craddock
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To the Wild Sky
To the wild sky
Lift thy tortured hands
Oh thou puny insignificant man
Let thy voice ring, in triumph defy
The scorching sun of the wild sky
The raging wind cant hold u down
The warrior spark in thee is found
Rain, sleet and snow may fall
But thou wilt fight on through all
Though thy muscles ache and burn
'tween victory and defeat discern
And as thou conquer raise thy hands high
Lift them up to the wild sky
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Darken In Me
Swimming waves of tunder
Colors twist through wind
goes around like lightening
torn through tornado
Winds living above me
Swing right to left around
We go storms around me
Walked in the middle of them
Cause town flying throws at me
Ice freeze blews squeeze me tight
Grass eat winds between me
Color gone black darken
Sprikes lightening the ground
Flowing through me to my mind
Falling to the ground
Dying slowly
While the storm pass
Storms me away
poem by Christina Weinke
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Storms In Africa: Part I (LP Version)
Roma Ryan
Though I walk through
warm sands in Africa
winds will grow soon
to storms in Africa.
How far to go
I cannot say.
How many more
will journey this way?
Dark skies fall on
black earth and ivory.
Far from your sun
clouds now close over me
How far to go
I cannot say.
How many more
will journey this way?
Storms have come!
rains wash the earth away
Dark skies fall down
into another day.
Rains have now come
from storms in Africa
Time will go on
through Storms in Africa
song performed by by Enya
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Storms In Africa - Part Ii
Though I walk through
Warm sands in africa
Winds will grow soon
To storms in africa.
How far to go
I cannot say.
How many more
Will journey this way?
Dark skies fall on
Black earth and ivory.
Far from your sun
Clouds now close over me.
How far to go
I cannot say.
How many more
Will journey this way?
Storms have come!
Rains wash the earth away
Dark skies fall down
Into another day.
Rains have now come
From storms in africa
Time will go on
Through storms in africa
song performed by by Enya
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At crow's nest pass
At Crow's Nest Pass the mountains rend
Themselves apart, the rivers wend
A lawless course about their feet,
And breaking into torrents beat
In useless fury where they blend
At Crow's Nest Pass.
The nesting eagle, wise, discreet,
Wings up the gorge's lone retreat
And makes some barren crag her friend
At Crow's Nest Pass.
Uncertain clouds, half-high, suspend
Their shifting vapours, and contend
With rocks that suffer not defeat;
And snows, and suns, and mad winds meet
To battle where the cliffs defend
At Crow's Nest Pass.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Never Sound Retreat
A hard fought battle you have won
This graduation day;
We fill with pride to know you still
Stand steadfast on the way.
We know you often lost your poise
And longed to sound retreat,
Until some inner strength took charge
And saved you from defeat.
Life's many battles yet to come
May test you to the core;
For every one you lose, there will
Be victories in store.
Stand firm for what you know is right,
Believe you can't be beat;
If doubts prevail then search for help,
But never sound retreat.
Just persevere and strive to step
In cadence with life's beat;
With fear and fight and faith, my son,
You'll never sound retreat-
You'll never sound retreat.
My eldest son struggled all through
high school and was now facing a stint
in the military, during the Vietnam War
1968
poem by Joseph Anderson
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The Storms Have Passed
the days are getting cloudy for me,
storm clouds over my head,
so dark, i can barely see,
the storms have passed by me.
the swetness of life, has passed me by,
of my life, the storms have went,
and i look forward to when i die,
the storms have passed me by.
of the Lord, i'll meet and see,
to be with Him, ever more,
and there, i'll never need to plea
the storms have passed by me.
Sonnet XXII: Wild Is the Foaming Sea
Wild is the foaming Sea! The surges roar!
And nimbly dart the livid lightnings round!
On the rent rock the angry waves rebound;
Ah me! the less'ning bark is seen no more!
Along the margin of the trembling shore,
Loud as the blast my frantic cries shall sound,
My storm-drench'd limbs the flinty fragments wound,
And o'er my bleeding breast the billows pour!
Phaon! return! ye winds, O! waft the strain
To his swift bark; ye barb'rous waves forbear!
Taunt not the anguish of a lover's brain,
Nor feebly emulate the soul's despair!
For howling winds, and foaming seas, in vain
Assail the breast, when passion rages there!
poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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The Proof Of Worth
Though victory's proof of the skill you possess,
Defeat is the proof of your grit;
A weakling can smile in his days of success,
But at trouble's first sign he will quit.
So the test of the heart and the test of your pluck
Isn't skies that are sunny and fair,
But how do you stand to the blow that is struck
And how do you battle despair?
A fool can seem wise when the pathway is clear
And it's easy to see the way out,
But the test of man's judgment is something to fear,
And what does he do when in doubt?
And the proof of his faith is the courage he shows
When sorrows lie deep in his breast;
It's the way that he suffers the griefs that he knows
That brings out his worst or his best.
The test of a man is how much he will bear
For a cause which he knows to be right,
How long will he stand in the depths of despair,
How much will he suffer and fight?
There are many to serve when the victory's near
And few are the hurts to be borne,
But it calls for a leader of courage to cheer
The men in a battle forlorn.
It's the way you hold out against odds that are great
That proves what your courage is worth,
It's the way that you stand to the bruises of fate
That shows up your stature and girth.
And victory's nothing but proof of your skill,
Veneered with a glory that's thin,
Unless it is proof of unfaltering will,
And unless you have suffered to win.
poem by Edgar Albert Guest
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The Real Enemy...
it is not late
the wind finally knows its enemy
it was not the tree that it uprooted in one of its storms
not the clouds that it had blown with rage
not the sea whose waves it tumbled in a tsunami
not even the boats it sank
not pitying the passengers and crew who were swallowed
its whirlpools have been wrong
upon itself it must know
its winds its own storms
its enemies all
at the
end.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Past Days
I.
Dead and gone, the days we had together,
Shadow-stricken all the lights that shone
Round them, flown as flies the blown foam's feather,
Dead and gone.
Where we went, we twain, in time foregone,
Forth by land and sea, and cared not whether,
If I go again, I go alone.
Bound am I with time as with a tether;
Thee perchance death leads enfranchised on,
Far from deathlike life and changeful weather,
Dead and gone.
II.
Above the sea and sea-washed town we dwelt,
We twain together, two brief summers, free
From heed of hours as light as clouds that melt
Above the sea.
Free from all heed of aught at all were we,
Save chance of change that clouds or sunbeams dealt
And gleam of heaven to windward or to lee.
The Norman downs with bright grey waves for belt
Were more for us than inland ways might be;
A clearer sense of nearer heaven was felt
Above the sea.
III.
Cliffs and downs and headlands which the forward-hasting
Flight of dawn and eve empurples and embrowns,
Wings of wild sea-winds and stormy seasons wasting
Cliffs and downs,
These, or ever man was, were: the same sky frowns,
Laughs, and lightens, as before his soul, forecasting
Times to be, conceived such hopes as time discrowns.
These we loved of old: but now for me the blasting
Breath of death makes dull the bright small seaward towns,
Clothes with human change these all but everlasting
Cliffs and downs.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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The Tempest
It started out a bright sunny day
as on his boat he sailed.
The wind in his hair, the sun on his face
the salty sea air was inhaled.
He'd learned how to master the giant waves.
He'd sailed with his dad in a squall.
He'd been taught to bravely face a storm.
He lived for it since he was small.
He saw the gulls aloft in the air.
He watched their flight and thought
'I feel as free as those white-winged birds, '
happy with what he'd been taught.
The time went fast. He glanced at his watch
and then he searched the sky.
Off in the distance he saw dark clouds
and turned towards shore with a sigh.
All around darkness closed in
and the winds and rains did blow.
He struggled to keep his boat aright
and his fear started to grow.
This can't be. He loved the sea
but the violence in the sea had spread.
He tried to think calmly and heard his dad.
'Don't fight it son or you're dead.'
He could not see to steer with care.
The waves broke over his head.
He tied his body to the boat he loved
and thought about being dead.
Bruised and battered but breathing still
he prayed with all his might.
And with the darkness came God's answer.
'Sail away with me into the night, '
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Storm Clouds
I sat at the window
near the edge of sunset
watched the storm clouds roll by.
I wondered what would happen
during the evening tide
with those storm clouds.
Will they bring forth wind and rain?
Will the raindrops dance
and tap at my windowpane.
However, those storms clouds
just kept on rolling by.
With a sigh of relief,
I could see there
will be no storm tonight.
poem by David Harris
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A Night of Storm
Oh city, whom grey stormy hands have sown,
With restless drift, scarce broken now of any,
Out of the dark thy windows dim and many
Gleam red across the storm. Sound is there none,
Save evermore the fierce wind's sweep and moan,
From whose grey hands the keen white snow is shaken
In desperate gusts, that fitfully lull and waken,
Dense as night's darkness round they towers of stone.
Darkling and strange art thou thus vexed and chidden;
More dark and strange thy veiled agony,
City of storm, in whose grey heart are hidden
What stormier woes, what lives that groan and beat,
Stern and thin-cheeked, against time's heavier sleet,
Rude fates, hard hearts, and prisoning poverty.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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