To don the golden helm must ever fare
Upon the edge of peril, ever ride
Between dark-ambushed dangers, ever wake
Unto the thunderous crash of battle-tide.
Oh, pause before you take the fateful helm.
Will you, so young, forego, for evermore,
The sheltered haven-raptures of the shore,
To strive in ceaseless tempest, till, at last,
The fury-crested wave shall overwhelm
Your broken life on death's dark crag upcast?"