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I war with the wind, with the waves I wrestle;
I must battle with both when in the bottom I seek;
My strange habitation by surges o'er-roofed.
I am strong in the strife, while still I remain;
As soon as I stir, they are stronger than I.
They wrench and they wrest, till I run from
my foes;
What was put in my keeping they carry away.
If my back be not broken, I baffle them still;
The rocks are my helpers, when hard am
pressed;
Grimly I grip them. GUess what I'm called.
Anchor