We gulp our haste for the booty’s sake
And reef the tops’ls now;
For haste is dear, but the goal is near
And she hath not seen nor heard;
Our lights are lost, but our steel is here,
Our ears are sick for the word.
Our eyes are bright for the chance of night,
We strain across the gap
That yawns ’twixt us and the tossing light
That rocks in the rollers’ lap.