Page:The Muse in Arms, Osborn (ed), 1917.djvu/134

92 The Germans like grey shadows came stealing round the Horn,

Or as a wolf-pack prowls

With blood upon its jowls,

Their sides were pocked with gun-shots and their guns were battle-worn,

And their colliers down the wind

Like jackals trailed behind,

'Twas thus they met our cruisers on a bright December morn.

Like South Atlantic rollers half a mile from crest to crest,

Breaking on basalt rocks

In thunderous battle-shocks,

So our heavy British metal put their armour to the test.

And the Germans hurried north,

As our lightnings issued forth,

But our battle-line closed round them like a sickle east and west.

Each ship was as a pillar of grey smoke on the sea,

Or mists upon a fen,

Till they burst forth again

From their wraiths of battle-vapour by wind and speed made free;

Three hours the action sped,

Till, plunging by the head,

The Scharnhorst drowned the pennant of Admiral von Spec.