The morning is all sunshine, the wind is blowing free,
The billows are all sparkling and bounding in the light,
Like creatures in whose sunny veins the blood is running bright.
All nature knows our triumph, strange birds about us sweep,
Strange things come up to look at us—the masters of the deep!
In our wake, like any servant, follows even the bold shark—
Oh, proud must be our admiral of such a bonny bark!
Oh, proud must be our admiral (though he is pale to-day)
Of twice five hundred iron men who all his nod obey!
Who’ve fought for him and conquered, who’ve won with sweat and gore