Rudyard Kipling
Description
The banked oars fell an hundred strong, And backed and threshed and ground, But bitter was the rowers' songAs they brought the war-boat round.They had
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no heart for the rally and roarThat makes the whale-bath smoke-When the great blades cleave and hold and leaveAs one on the racing stroke.They sang: -'What reckoning do you keep, And steer her by what star, If we come unscathed from the Southern deepTo be wrecked on a Baltic bar?'Last night you swore our voyage was done, But seaward still we go, And you tell us now of a secret vowYou have made with an open foe!'That we must lie off a lightless coastAnd haul and back and veer, At the will of the breed that have wronged us mostFor a year and a year and a year!'There was never a shame in ChristendieThey laid not to our door-And you say we must take the winter seaAnd sail with them once more?'Look South! The gale is scarce o'erpastThat stripped and laid us down, When we stood forth but they stood fastAnd prayed to see us drown6'Our dead they mocked are scarcely cold, Our wounds are bleeding yet-And you tell us now that our strength is soldTo help them press for a debt'''Neath all the flags of all mankindThat use upon the seas, Was there no other fleet to findThat you strike hands with these?'Of evil times that men can chooseOn evil fate to fall, What brooding Judgment let you looseTo pick the worst of all?'In sight of peace-from the Narrow SeasO'er half the world to run-With a cheated crew, to league anewWith the Goth and the sha
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