Here you will find the Poem The Rower's Chant of poet Thomas Sturge Moore
ROW till the land dip 'neath The sea from view. Row till a land peep up, A home for you. Row till the mast sing songs Welcome and sweet, Row till the waves, outstripped, Give up, dead beat. Row till the sea-nymphs rise To ask you why Rowing you tarry not To hear them sigh. Row till the stars grow bright Like certain eyes. Row till the noon be high As hopes you prize. Row till you harbour in All longing's port. Row till you find all things For which you sought.
