The good old words filled the room and floated up through the skylight to the silent quarter-deck, where the officer of the watch paced up and down, and the anchored ships showed up as deeper blotches in the darkness. Overhead the wireless buzzed and crackled, and the lapping of the water between the boats alongside sounded like mermaids’ kisses. A quartermaster on his way forward paused by the open skylight listening to the tinkle of the piano. ‘Strewth,’ he muttered. ‘Orficers ’avin’ a good time,’ and relapsed into silence as a signalman pattered by to relieve his mate on the bridge. As the song came to an end a boy operator knocked at the ward-room door and handed a message to the Captain, who read it and put it in his pocket. Another song was beginning, and the singers were clustering round the piano. Duty called him, and as the song reached the noisy stage, he left with a quiet ‘good-night,’ and returned to his lonely quarters. He was no mean judge of character. NEPTUNE AND BRITANNIA I Neptune asked of Britannia, ‘Whence do your Seamen come? Are they born in the fields or forests, Or born in the city slum? Are they born in the lofty palace, Or born in the marsh or fen? In the name of the Golden Trident, Where do you get your men?’ II Britannia rose in her armour, Her brazen buckler rang, And the waves of the world were silent, As her seamen’s creed she sang. ‘In the name of the Golden Trident, Which both of us dare to wield, In the name of the Isles of Britain, In the name of the Brazen Shield; In the name of the wives and mothers-- Brave beyond mortal ken, You shall learn how in pride and honour, Britannia rears her men. III ‘Back in the mists of fable, A ship once put to sea, And she sailed to the dim horizon, For the wind was fair and free. She sailed to the Mighty Pillars Where the floods of the Great Sea ran; Born of the fame that girt her name, The seamen race began. IV ‘Born of that brave adventure, The latent spark took fire; And down to the sea there followed The sons of the seaman sire. It spread o’er the Isles of Britain, And grew with the birth of guns; Let them beware who challenge there Britannia’s sailor sons.’ V Neptune laughed as he listened, Laughed till the ocean rolled. ‘Woe to the men of the sea,’ he cried, ‘And woe to the over-bold. Though they may think to have conquered, Still will I have my share; Grant they be shrived.’ With that he dived Down to his ocean lair. * * * * * The waves of the deep rolled onward, Swelled in a mighty soar, Tottered and broke in a thunder stroke Upon Britannia’s shore. PERSONNEL