Look when the clouds are blowing And all the winds are free: In fury of their going They fall upon the sea. But though the blast is frantic, And though the tempest raves, The deep immense Atlantic Is still beneath the waves.1
Wind, Moon and Tides.
Note 1. Shakespeare: Henry V, act iv. sc. i. There is some soul of goodness in things evil Would men observingly distil it out. [back]