The Captain
Here
all
the
day
she
swings
from
tide
to
tide,
Here
all
night
long
she
tugs
a
rusted
chain,
A
masterless
hulk
that
was
a
ship
of
pride,
Yet
unashamed:
her
memories
remain.
It
was
Nelson
in
the
Captain,
Cape
St.
Vincent
far
alee,
With
the
Vanguard
leading
s'uth'ard
in
the
haze
—
Little
Jervis
and
the
Spaniards
and
the
fight
that
was
to
be,
Twenty-seven
Spanish
battleships,
great
bullies
of
the
sea,
And
the
Captain
there
to
find
her
day
of
days.
Right
into
them
the
Vanguard
leads,
but
with
a
sudden
tack
The
Spaniards
double
swiftly
on
their
trail;
Now
Jervis
overshoots
his
mark,
like
some
too
eager
pack,
He
will
not
overtake
them,
haste
he
e'er
so
greatly
back,
But
Nelson
and
the
Captain
will
not
fail.
Like
a
tigress
on
her
quarry
leaps
the
Captain
from
her
place,
To
lie
across
the
fleeing
squadron's
way:
Heavy
odds
and
heavy
onslaught,
gun
to
gun
and
face
to
face,
Win
the
ship
a
name
of
glory,
win
the
men
a
death
of
grace,
For
a
little
hold
the
Spanish
fleet
in
play.
Ended
now
the
Captain's
battle,
stricken
sore
she
falls
aside
Holding
still
her
foemen,
beaten
to
the
knee:
As
the
Vanguard
drifted
past
her,
"Well
done,
Captain,"
Jervis
cried,
Rang
the
cheers
of
men
that
conquered,
ran
the
blood
of
men
that
died,
And
the
ship
had
won
her
immortality.
Lo!
here
her
progeny
of
steel
and
steam,
A
funnelled
monster
at
her
mooring
swings:
Still,
in
our
hearts,
we
see
her
pennant
stream,
And
"Well
done,
Captain,"
like
a
trumpet
rings.
