Where the whale and the shark and the sword fish sleep—
Out-flying the blast and the driving rain,
The Petrel telleth her tale—in vain;
For the mariner curseth the warning bird
Which bringeth him news of the storm unheard!
Ah! thus does the prophet of good or ill
Meet hate from the creatures he serveth still;
Yet he ne'er falters—so, Petrel, spring
Once more o'er the waves on thy stormy wing!
—Bryan Waller Procter.