Come steel leviathans scorning disaster
We scrapped them as fast—if anything faster.
So pick up your pilot and take a cross-bearing,
Sound us and chart us from Lion to Tearing,
And ring us with lighthouses, day-marks and buoys,
The gales are our hunters, the fogs our decoys.
We shall not go hungry; we grin and we wait,
Black-fanged and foam-drabbled, the wolves at the Gate."
Patlander.