THE North-East Wind came armed and shod from the ice-locked Baltic shore,
The seas rose up in the track he made, and the rollers raced before;
He sprang on the Wilhelmshaven ships that reeled across the tide.
"Do you cross the sea to-night with me?" the cold North-Easter cried—
Along the lines of anchored craft the Admiral's answer flashed,
And loud the proud North-Easter laughed as the second anchors splashed.
"By God! you're right—you German men, with a three-day gale to blow,
It is better to wait by your harbour gate than follow where I go!"
Over the Bight to the open sea the great wind sang as he sheered:
"I rule—I rule the Northern waste—I speak, and the seas are cleared;