In a blue dusk the ship astern Uplifts her slender spars, With golden lights that seem to burn Among the silver stars. Like fleets along a cloudy shore The constellations creep, Like planets on the ocean floor Our silent course we keep. _And over the endless plain, Out of the night forlorn Rises a faint refrain, A song of the day to be born-- Watch, oh watch till ye find again Life and the land of morn._ From a dim West to a dark East Our lines unwavering head, As if their motion long had ceased And Time itself were dead. {6} Vainly we watch the deep below, Vainly the void above, They died a thousand years ago-- Life and the land we love. _But over the endless plain, Out of the night forlorn Rises a faint refrain, A song of the day to be born-- Watch, oh watch till ye find again Life and the land of morn._ {7} IV _The Little Admiral_ Stand by to reckon up your battleships Ten, twenty, thirty, there they go. Brag about your cruisers like Leviathans-- A thousand men a-piece down below. But here's just one little Admiral We're all of us his brothers and his sons, And he's worth, O he's worth at the very least Double all your tons and all your guns. _Stand by, etc._ See them on the forebridge signalling-- A score of men a-hauling hand to hand, And the whole fleet flying like the wild geese Moved by some mysterious command. Where's the mighty will that shows the way to them, The mind that sees ahead so quick and clear? He's there, Sir, walking all alone there-- The little man whose voice you never hear. _Stand by, etc._ {8} There are queer things that only come to sailormen; They're true, but they're never understood; And I know one thing about the Admiral, That I can't tell rightly as I should. I've been with him when hope sank under us-- He hardly seemed a mortal like the rest, I could swear that he had stars upon his uniform, And one sleeve pinned across his breast. _Stand by, etc._ Some day we're bound to sight the enemy, He's coming, tho' he hasn't yet a name. Keel to keel and gun to gun he'll challenge us To meet him at the Great Armada game. None knows what may be the end of it, But we'll all give our bodies and our souls To see the little Admiral a-playing him A rubber of the old Long Bowls! _Stand by, etc._ {9} V _The Song of the Guns at Sea_ Oh hear! Oh hear! Across the sullen tide Across the echoing dome horizon-wide What pulse of fear Beats with tremendous boom! What call of instant doom, With thunderstroke of terror and of pride, With urgency that may not be denied, Reverberates upon the heart's own drum Come! . . . Come! . . . for thou must come!