The Captain at the helm, and four
Stout men of Avon at the oar.
They neared the drifting craft; and when
They bumped against her gunwale, then
Hally upraised his tumbled head!
“My God! My boy!” the Captain said.
And now with bellying sails “The Foam”
Up the tossed flood went straining home;
The wind blew fair; she lay that night