Читать книгу On Patrol - Bower John Graham - Страница 2

HE went to sea on the long patrol,

Away to the East from the Corton Shoal,

But now he's overdue.

He signalled me as he bore away

(A flickering lamp through leaping spray,

And darkness then till judgment day),

"So long! Good luck to you!"

He's waiting out on the long patrol,

Till the names are called at the muster-roll

Of seamen overdue.

Far above him, in wind and rain,

Another is on patrol again —

The gap is closed in the Naval Chain

Where all the links are new.

Over his head the seas are white,

And the wind is blowing a gale to-night,

As if the Storm-King knew,

And roared a ballad of sleet and snow

To the man that lies on the sand below,

A trumpet-song for the winds to blow

To seamen overdue.

Was it sudden or slow – the death that came?

Roaring water or sheets of flame?

The end with none to view?

No man can tell us the way he died,

But over the clouds Valkyries ride

To open the gates and hold them wide

For seamen overdue.

But whether the end was swift or slow,

By the Hand of God, or a German blow,

My messmate overdue —

You went to Death – and the whisper ran

As over the Gates the horns began,

Splendour of God! We have found a man—

Good-bye! Good luck to you!