[MD] Rough seas

[John Carl]

Interesting Craig, We have contrasting style:  you think missiles, I think
Poetry.  :)

THE world is too much with us; late and soon,
          Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
          Little we see in Nature that is ours;
          We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
          The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
          The winds that will be howling at all hours,
          And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
          For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
          It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
          A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;                         10
          So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
          Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
          Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
          Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.




>
> [Craig, previously]
> > Reminds me of Poseidon rising from the sea.
>
> [John]
> > Which reminds ME of Triton, blowing his wreathed horn.
>
> As it happens, the Poseidon (missle) I was reminded of, was rising from the
> sea, out of a Triton (submarine).
> Craig
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