Sonnets on the War :: :: University of Virginia Library

When England calls, he is her worthiest son
Who leaves his home buried in rooky trees,
And lands that touch the sunset; on his knees
Begs that he may her perilous errands run.
In trembling days the worth of such an one!
And England wears a quiver full of these;
Men who can sternly die when hope is done,
Captives of winter in the Polar seas:
Who, undegraded by a thought of shame,
Stand at their posts while ruined hull and shroud
Scare the waste ocean with a mass of flame;
Where cheering ranks in silent swathes are mowed,
Who fall, and fall with spirits high and proud,
For o'er their bodies England steps to fame.