Year upon year the day draws near
Of the unsheathed sword and the shaken spear,
That shall make amends for all.
When the Armageddon sunrise breaks
On the iron-clads' smoking line,
When the last dawn lights on that last of fights
Where the strength of man shall shine,
One great grim day of the world at play,
With bugle and tuck of drum,
While the red drops beat on the shattered fleet,