From "The Swimmers"

Then the swift plunge into the cool green dark,

the windy waters rushing past me, through me;

Filled with the sense of some heroic lark,

exulting in a vigor clean and roomy.

Swiftly I rose to meet the feline sea...

Pitting against a cold turbulent strife,

The feverish intensity of life...

Out of the foam I lurched and rode the wave

Swimming hand over hand, over hand, against the wind;

I felt the sea's vain pounding, and I grinned

knowing I was its master, not its slave.