This is one of my favourite poems by MacNeice.
Put out to sea, my broken comrades Let the old seaweek crack, the surge Burgeon, oblivious of the last Embarkation of feckless men Let every adverse force converge Here we must needs embark again. Run up the sail, my heartsick comrades, Let each horizon tilt and lurch. You know the worst, your wills are fickle Your values blurred, your hearts impure And your past lives a ruined church But let your poison be your cure. Put out to sea, ignoble comrades, Whose records shall be noble yet Butting through scarps of moving marble The narwhal dares us to be free By a high star our course is set Our end is life. Put out to sea.
— Louis Macneice