  Valiant sons of the sea, All the vast deep, your home, Holds no terror so dread As this novel and unseen foe, Lurking under the foam Of some dangerous channel— As the torpedo, the scourge of ships. Through the rigging may roar Æolus' thousand gales, Yet the mariner's heart Shrinketh not from the howling blast; Though with battle-rent sails, Flames and carnage around him, Cowardice never shall pale his lips. But when powers concealed, Threatening with death the crew, Pave each eddy below, E'en the bravest are chilled with fear, Lest yon wizard in blue, Who their progress is spying, Touch but the key with his finger-tips. Towers a column bright, And the vessel is gone! In that ocean of blinding spray Sink her turrets from sight, By thy potency broken, O irresistible scourge of ships! —Harry Howard. |
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