"Boats in a Fog" - Robinson Jeffers - foggy morning in Fort Worth brought this to mind

Sports and gallantries, the stage, the arts, the antics of dancers, 
The exuberant voices of music, 
Have charm for children but lack nobility; it is bitter earnestness 
That makes beauty; the mind 
Knows, grown adult. 
A sudden fog-drift muffled the ocean, 
A throbbing of engines moved in it, 
At length, a stone's throw out, between the rocks and the vapor, 
One by one moved shadows 
Out of the mystery, shadows, fishing-boats, trailing each other 
Following the cliff for guidance, 
Holding a difficult path between the peril of the sea-fog 
And the foam on the shore granite. 
One by one, trailing their leader, six crept by me, 
Out of the vapor and into it, 
The throb of their engines subdued by the fog, patient and 
cautious, 
Coasting all round the peninsula 
Back to the buoys in Monterey harbor. A flight of pelicans 
Is nothing lovelier to look at; 
The flight of the planets is nothing nobler; all the arts lose virtue 
Against the essential reality 
Of creatures going about their business among the equally 
Earnest elements of nature.