English Roses by F. Harald Williams [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] |
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| I. |
| II. |
THE BLUE RIBAND OF THE SEA. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
 | English Roses |  |
THE BLUE RIBAND OF THE SEA.
Let England will to do it,
And every mother's son
Would give his life unto it
And wager it be done.
There's many a good life spoiling
For just a gallant spin,
A-fire for tasks of toiling
And ready to romp in.
So launch the merry ship, my boys,
And gaily voyage forth;
Let women stay at home with toys,
We'll go a-sailing North.
And every mother's son
Would give his life unto it
And wager it be done.
There's many a good life spoiling
175
A-fire for tasks of toiling
And ready to romp in.
So launch the merry ship, my boys,
And gaily voyage forth;
Let women stay at home with toys,
We'll go a-sailing North.
Let England find the money,
And all will furnish men
(Not nursed on milk and honey),
To venture there and then.
Stout hands will turn from tilling,
And hearts (that never fear'd
A foe) be more than willing,
To pluck the Ice-king's beard.
So send the merry ship, my lads,
By frozen cape and Forth;
Leave politicians' fuss and fads,
And go a-sailing North.
And all will furnish men
(Not nursed on milk and honey),
To venture there and then.
Stout hands will turn from tilling,
And hearts (that never fear'd
A foe) be more than willing,
To pluck the Ice-king's beard.
So send the merry ship, my lads,
By frozen cape and Forth;
Leave politicians' fuss and fads,
And go a-sailing North.
Let England raise a finger,
Towards that dim Arctic Zone;
And would a seaman linger,
To dare the Ice-king's throne?
With passion would be blended
The myriads' rival plea,
To win and wear that splendid
Blue riband of the sea.
So man the merry ship, my boys,
And prove your iron worth;
Leave clerks and girls their quiet joys,
And go a-sailing North.
Towards that dim Arctic Zone;
And would a seaman linger,
To dare the Ice-king's throne?
With passion would be blended
The myriads' rival plea,
To win and wear that splendid
Blue riband of the sea.
So man the merry ship, my boys,
And prove your iron worth;
Leave clerks and girls their quiet joys,
And go a-sailing North.
Let England only ask it,
And poverty would spare
Or empty store and basket,
To have a little share.
While others feast and fiddle
Or lounge in silken rest,
Our knights will read the riddle
Locked in the Ice-king's breast.
So speed the merry ship, my lads,
And bravely journey forth;
Thank God, we yet have Galahads
To go a-sailing North.
And poverty would spare
Or empty store and basket,
To have a little share.
While others feast and fiddle
Or lounge in silken rest,
Our knights will read the riddle
176
So speed the merry ship, my lads,
And bravely journey forth;
Thank God, we yet have Galahads
To go a-sailing North.
| English Roses | |