Tatters of shouts were flung, the rags of yells--
And clang, clang, clang, below beat the two bells.
"O God!" the Dauber moaned. A roaring rang,
Blasting the royals like a cannonade;
The backstays parted with a cracking clang,
The upper spars were snapped like twigs decayed--
Snapped at their heels, their jagged splinters splayed,
Like white and ghastly hair erect with fear.
The Mate yelled, "Gone, by God, and pitched them clear!"
"Up!" yelled the Bosun; "up and clear the wreck!"