Oh, have you ever seen a foundered horse—
His great heart broken by a task too great
For his endurance, but unbroken yet
His spirit—striving to complete his course?
Falling at last, eyes glazed and nostrils wide,
And have not ached with pity? Pity now
A brave ship shattered by a coward blow
That once had spurned the waters in her pride.
And can you picture—you who dwell secure
In sheltered houses, warm and filled with light,—
The loneliness and terror of that fight
In shrieking darkness? Feel with them (the sure
Foundation of their very world destroyed),
The sluggish lifting of the lifeless hull,
Wallowing ever deeper till, with a dull
Half-sob she plunges and the seas are void.
Yet—Oh be sure, they did not pass alone
Into the darkness all uncomforted;
For round them hovered England's mighty Dead
To greet them: and a pale poop lanthorn shone
Lighting them homeward, and a voice rang clear—
As when he cheered his own devoted band—
"Heaven's as near by sea as by the land,"
Sir Humphrey Gilbert hailed them: "Be of cheer!"
OH, down by Millwall Basin as I went the other day,
I met a skipper that I knew, and to him I did say:
"Now what's the cargo, Captain, that brings you up this way?"
"Oh, I've been up and down (said he) and round about also . . .
From Sydney to the Skagerack, and Kiel to Callao . . .
With a leaking steam-pipe all the way to Californ-i-o . . .