Classic Poem

The rivers all flow down unto the sea;
And yet the yearning Ocean moans for more,
To quench its deep, insatiable thirst.
It sends its cry to God along the shore:
“Drive thou some mighty river through the land,
That, drinking, I lie quiet on my strand.

“Quench thou, O God, thy Ocean's bitter thirst!
Oh, let me drink my fill of some fresh tide!
I would not with complaints make sad the land
If this fierce craving once were satisfied.
I would stretch out in sleep from shore to shore,
And praise thee with my silence evermore.”