They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate:
"This mad sea shows his teeth to-night.
He curls his lips, he lies in wait,
With lifted teeth as if to bite!
Brave Adm'r'l, say but one good word:
What shall we do when hope is gone?"
The word leapt like a leaping sword:
"Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!"
Then, pale and worn he kept his deck
And peered through darkness. Ah, that night