The Torpedo.

    Valiant sons of the sea,
    All the vast deep, your home,
    Holds no terror so dread
As this novel and unseen foe,
    Lurking under the foam
    Of some dangerous channel -
As the torpedo, the scourge of ships.

    Through the rigging may roar
    Æolus' thousand gales,
    Yet the mariner's heart
Shrinketh not from the howling blast;
    Though with battle-rent sails,
    Flames and carnage around him,
Cowardice never shall pale his lips.

    But when powers concealed,
    Threatening with death the crew,
    Pave each eddy below,
E'en the bravest are chilled with fear,
    Lest yon wizard in blue,
    Who their progress is spying,
Touch but the key with his finger-tips.

    Lo! with thunderous boom
    Towers a column bright,
    And the vessel is gone!
In that ocean of blinding spray
    Sink her turrets from sight,
    By thy potency broken,
O irresistible scourge of ships!

- Harry Howard.

Hattie Howard

Hattie Howard is recognized for her significant contributions to 19th-century American poetry. Her work, characterized by its wit and lyrical quality, often explored themes of nature, love, and social issues. She had a unique voice that resonated with many of her contemporaries and continues to be appreciated for its depth and artistry.

Hattie Howard

If.

Hattie Howard, Simple Poetry

Thanksgiving.

Hattie Howard, Simple Poetry

Blossom-time.

Hattie Howard, Simple Poetry

A Friend Indeed.

Hattie Howard, Simple Poetry

English

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The Destroyers

The strength of twice three thousand horse
That seeks the single goal;
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The hate that swings the whole;
The stripped hulls, slinking through the gloom,
At gaze and gone again,
The Brides of Death that wait the groom,
The Choosers of the Slain!

Offshore where sea and skyline blend
In rain, the daylight dies;
The sullen, shouldering swells attend
Night and our sacrifice.
Adown the stricken capes no flare,
No mark on spit or bar,,
Girdled and desperate we dare
The blindfold game of war.

Nearer the up-flung beams that spell
The council of our foes;
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The Ballad Of The Calliope

By the far Samoan shore,
Where the league-long rollers pour
All the wash of the Pacific on the coral-guarded bay,
Riding lightly at their ease,
In the calm of tropic seas,
The three great nations' warships at their anchors proudly lay.

Riding lightly, head to wind,
With the coral reefs behind,
Three German and three Yankee ships were mirrored in the blue;
And on one ship unfurled
Was the flag that rules the world,
For on the old Calliope the flag of England flew.

When the gentle off-shore breeze,
That had scarcely stirred the trees,
Dropped down to utter stillness, and the glass began to fall,
Away across the main
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And far away to seaward hung the cloud-wrack like a pall.

If the word had passed around,

Andrew Barton Paterson

The Captain

A LEGEND OF THE NAVY


He that only rules by terror
Doeth grievous wrong.
Deep as hell I count his error.
Let him hear my song.
Brave the Captain was; the seamen
Made a gallant crew,
Gallant sons of English freemen,
Sailors bold and true.
But they hated his oppression;
Stern he was and rash,
So for every light transgression
Doomd them to the lash.
Day by day more harsh and cruel
Seemd the Captains mood.
Secret wrath like smotherd fuel
Burnt in each mans blood.
Yet he hoped to purchase glory,
Hoped to make the name
Of his vessel great in story,
Wheresoeer he came.
So they past by capes and islands,
Many a harbor-mouth,
Sailing under palmy highlands
Far within the South.
On a day when they were going

Alfred Lord Tennyson

A Desolate Shore

A desolate shore,
The sinister seduction of the Moon,
The menace of the irreclaimable Sea.

Flaunting, tawdry and grim,
From cloud to cloud along her beat,
Leering her battered and inveterate leer,
She signals where he prowls in the dark alone,
Her horrible old man,
Mumbling old oaths and warming
His villainous old bones with villainous talk -
The secrets of their grisly housekeeping
Since they went out upon the pad
In the first twilight of self-conscious Time:
Growling, hideous and hoarse,
Tales of unnumbered Ships,
Goodly and strong, Companions of the Advance,
In some vile alley of the night
Waylaid and bludgeoned -
Dead.

Deep cellared in primeval ooze,
Ruined, dishonoured, spoiled,
They lie where the lean water-worm
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William Ernest Henley

Tobermory Bay. 1588.

In the vapour and haze on the ocean,
Where the skies and the waters meet,
There's a form that drifts, phantom-like, onward
As it follows the grey clouds' feet.

O'er the sea come the winds and the billows,
And they howl to the rocks, and they cry,
They will bring them a wreck on the morrow,
Ere the joy of the tempest die.

The shade looming dark in the distance
Is naught but a galleon proud;
And the spray has long battered her turrets,
And loosened each yard and each shroud;

But not on the surf-beaten islands,
Nor yet upon Morven's land,
Does she drive, for her rudder, unshattered,
Is firm in the steersman's hand.

No mist wreath, no cloud, was the shadow
That moved on the height of the seas;
Like a castle how steep are her bulwa...

John Campbell

Cap'n Storm-Along

They are buffeting out in the bitter grey weather,
    Blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down!
Sea-lark singing to Golden Feather,
    And burly blue waters all swelling aroun'.
There's Thunderstone butting ahead as they wallow,
    With death in the mesh of their deep-sea trawl;
There's Night-Hawk swooping by wild Sea-swallow;
    And old Cap'n Storm-along leading 'em all.

    Bashing the seas to a welter of white,
    Look at the fleet that he leads to the fight.
    O, they're dancing like witches to open the ball;
    And old Cap'n Storm-along's lord of 'em all.

Now, where have you seen such a bully old sailor?
    His eyes are as blue as the scarf at his throat;
And he rolls on the bridge of his br...

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