Heard of in other lives—imagined, dreamed—
There where the basest beggar was a prince.
To him in torment where the tempest screamed,
Comfort and warmth and ease no longer seemed
Things that a man could know; soul, body, brain,
Knew nothing but the wind, the cold, the pain.
Insouciance in Storm
(From “The Cry of Youth”)
By Harry Kemp
(A young American poet who has wandered over the world as sailor, harvest hand and tramp; born 1883)