Songs of the Fleet - The Middle Watch

    In a blue dusk the ship astern
        Uplifts her slender spars,
    With golden lights that seem to burn
        Among the silver stars.
    Like fleets along a cloudy shore
        The constellations creep,
    Like planets on the ocean floor
        Our silent course we keep.

            And over the endless plain,
                Out of the night forlorn
            Rises a faint refrain,
                A song of the day to be born--
            Watch, oh watch till ye find again
                Life and the land of morn.

    From a dim West to a dark East
        Our lines unwavering head,
    As if their motion long had ceased
        And Time itself were dead.

    Vainly we watch the deep below,
        Vainly the void above,
    They died a thousand years ago--
        Life and the land we love.

            But over the endless plain,
                Out of the night forlorn
            Rises a faint refrain,
                A song of the day to be born--
            Watch, oh watch till ye find again
                Life and the land of morn.

Henry John Newbolt

Sir Henry John Newbolt was an English poet and author, famous for his ballads such as 'Vitaï Lampada'. He graduated from Oxford and was called to the bar, but he is better remembered for his literary contributions than his legal career. Newbolt served as a government advisor on military and naval literature during World War I. He was knighted in 1915 for his services to literature. Newbolt's work often reflected themes of patriotism and duty.

Henry John Newbolt

A Sower

Henry John Newbolt, Simple Poetry

The Only Son

Henry John Newbolt, Simple Poetry

The Return of Summer: An Eclogue

Henry John Newbolt, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Songs of the Fleet - Sailing at Dawn

    One by one the pale stars die before the day now,
        One by one the great ships are stirring from their sleep,
    Cables all are rumbling, anchors all a-weigh now,
        Now the fleet's a fleet again, gliding towards the deep.

            Now the fleet's a fleet again, bound upon the old ways,
                Splendour of the past comes shining in the spray;
            Admirals of old time, bring us on the bold ways!
                Souls of all the sea-dogs, lead the line to-day!

    Far away behind us town and tower are dwindling,
        Home becomes a fair dream faded long ago;
    Infinitely glorious the height of heaven is kindling,
        Infinitely desolate the shoreless sea below.

            Now the fleet's a fleet again, bound ...

Henry John Newbolt

Messmates
He gave us all a good-bye cheerily
At the first dawn of day;
We dropped him down the side full drearily
When the light died away.
It's a dead dark watch that he's a-keeping there,
And a long, long night that lags a-creeping there,
Where the Trades and the tides roll over him
And the great ships go by.

He's there alone with green seas rocking him
For a thousand miles round;
He's there alone with dumb things mocking him,
And we're homeward bound.
It's a long, lone watch that he's a-keeping there,
And a dead cold night that lags a-creeping there,
While the months and the years roll over him
And the great ships go by.

I wonder if the tramps come near enough
As they thrash to and fro,
And the battle-ships' bells rin...
Henry John Newbolt

Songs of the Fleet - Farewell
Mother, with unbowed head
Hear thou across the sea
The farewell of the dead,
The dead who died for thee.
Greet them again with tender words and grave,
For, saving thee, themselves they could not save.

To keep the house unharmed
Their fathers built so fair,
Deeming endurance armed
Better than brute despair,
They found the secret of the word that saith,
"Service is sweet, for all true life is death."

So greet thou well thy dead
Across the homeless sea,
And be thou comforted
Because they died for thee.
Far off they served, but now their deed is done
For evermore their life and thine are one.
Henry John Newbolt

Songs of the Fleet - The Song of the Guns at Sea
Oh hear! Oh hear!
Across the sullen tide
Across the echoing dome horizon-wide
What pulse of fear
Beats with tremendous boom!
What call of instant doom,
With thunderstroke of terror and of pride,
With urgency that may not be denied,
Reverberates upon the heart's own drum
Come! . . . Come! . . . for thou must come!

Come forth, O Soul!
This is thy day of power.
This is the day and this the glorious hour
That was the goal
Of thy self-conquering strife.
The love of child and wife,
The fields of Earth and the wide ways of Thought--
Did not thy purpose count them all as nought
That in this moment thou thyself mayst give
And in thy country's life for ever live?
Henry John Newbolt

Songs of the Fleet - The Little Admiral
Stand by to reckon up your battleships
Ten, twenty, thirty, there they go.
Brag about your cruisers like Leviathans--
A thousand men a-piece down below.
But here's just one little Admiral
We're all of us his brothers and his sons,
And he's worth, O he's worth at the very least
Double all your tons and all your guns.

Stand by, etc.

See them on the forebridge signalling--
A score of men a-hauling hand to hand,
And the whole fleet flying like the wild geese
Moved by some mysterious command.
Where's the mighty will that shows the way to them,
The mind that sees ahead so quick and clear?
He's there, Sir, walking all alone there--
...
Henry John Newbolt

Songs of the Fleet - The Song of the Sou' Wester
The sun was lost in a leaden sky,
And the shore lay under our lee;
When a great Sou' Wester hurricane high
Came rollicking up the sea.
He played with the fleet as a boy with boats
Till out for the Downs we ran,
And he laugh'd with the roar of a thousand throats
At the militant ways of man:

Oh! I am the enemy most of might,
The other be who you please!
Gunner and guns may all be right,
Flags a-flying and armour tight,
But I am the fellow you've first to fight--
The giant that swings the seas.

A dozen of middies were down below
Chasing the X they love,
While the table curtseyed long and slow
An...
Henry John Newbolt