So I, a tried servant, sometimes contend:
Now under the earth; now from over the waves
I drive to the depths; now dropping from heaven,
70 I stir up the streams, or strive to the skies,
Where I war with the welkin. Wide do I travel,
Swift and noisily. Say now my name,
Or who raises me up when rest is denied me,
Or who stays my course when stillness comes to me?
V. A Shield
A lonely warrior, I am wounded with iron,