The Collected Poems of T. W. H. Crosland | ||
147
Gaudeamus
“Our whole High Seas Fleet, without any aid from coast
batteries, has delivered a victorious blow against the most
powerful navy in the world. . . . The great sea fight so
eagerly expected on both sides in the North Sea for twenty-two
months has been fought out.”
—Tageblatt.
This is your “victory”!
We who brook no defeat,
On any sea,
Being of the old sea-mind,
Smile the sea-smile, and find
Our very losses sweet.
We who brook no defeat,
On any sea,
Being of the old sea-mind,
Smile the sea-smile, and find
Our very losses sweet.
Of your “victorious blow”
We give you the full joy:
Be glad! We know
Our strengths majestical—
Our every admiral,
Our every sailor boy.
We give you the full joy:
Be glad! We know
Our strengths majestical—
Our every admiral,
Our every sailor boy.
148
Yet is it not “fought out”:
Lick you your wounds, good friends,
And shout and shout—
You will not shake
Nelson, or Hood, or Drake,
Or the appointed ends.
Lick you your wounds, good friends,
And shout and shout—
You will not shake
Nelson, or Hood, or Drake,
Or the appointed ends.
The Collected Poems of T. W. H. Crosland | ||