Page:McClure's Magazine volume 10.djvu/507



Gone are the days of the heave and haul
 * (Think ye our blood has thinned?);

We're slaves of steam and science,
 * Not toilers of the wind!

Oh, the cable comes in to the cable tiers,
 * And no one lifts a hand;

The click of a bell sounds out, "That's well!"
 * And the engines understand!

We come in 'gainst the wind and the tide at night
 * And go out 'gainst the storm in the morn.

(But think ye our arms have lost their might?
 * Think ye our locks are shorn?)

Past are the days of Wind and Sail,
 * We've cast off the thrall of the sea,

We take no heed of the weather-gage—
 * No fear of the rocks on the lee.

We can come and go in the fiercest blow
 * (It is food for our roaring fires!),

For the great screw churns and the huge hull turns
 * As the Soul of the Ship desires!

But the spirit, the strength, and the Will are there,
 * The sea has not changed her men;

The ship must do and the men must dare,
 * And Now is the same as Then!

They raked and they fought at pistol-shot—
 * We fight at two miles and more.

(Think ye their dangers discount ours,
 * Ye men of books ashore?)

The turret turns and the guns are trained—
 * But not in the older way;

The conning-tower is the one-man power
 * And the Soul of the Ship holds sway.

But in sponson, turret, and great barbette,
 * Or below in the noxious air,

Are brave forms covered with blood and sweat—
 * The fighting men are there!

There are dangers our fathers wot not of
 * (In the days of wind and sail):

The unseen foes and the sighted Death,
 * With the foam along the rail.