Classic Poem

A goodly number shipped as crew;
some helped to set the sail and trim it,
while others, straining to the limit,
dug deep the oars. In silence, too,
our trusty helmsman checked our motion
and, wordless, steered our weighty craft;
while I, still carefree, sang and laughed
to cheer the oars . . . Then fore and aft
a roaring tempest ripped the ocean,
engulfing helmsman, mast, and yard!--
But I, the enigmatic bard,
was saved and cast up on the shoreline,
and tune my lyre with skillful stroke,
while drying off my sodden cloak
beneath the rocks here in the sunshine.