How must it be to swim among your kind,
Dull with the cold and dreary with the dark,
Enclosed above, beneath, before, behind
In green uncertainty, from which a shark
A t any time may dash
And doom you like some huge demonic fate
With lust insatiate?
He cuts the water with a seething gash;
What use to dart aside?
Those great jaws, grinning wide,
Will close your frolic as the long teeth clash.

-Charles Wharton Stork