THE RHYME OF THE THREE SEALERS
67
A Stralsund man shot blind and large, and a war-lock Finn was he,
And he hit Tom Hall with a bursting ball a hand's-breadth over the knee.
Tom Hall caught hold by the topping-lift, and sat him down with an oath,
'You'll wait a little, Rube,' he said, 'the Devil has called for both.
'The Devil is driving both this tide, and the killing-grounds are close,
'And we'll go up to the Wrath of God as the holluschickie goes.
'O men, put back your guns again and lay your rifles by,
'We've fought our fight, and the best are down. Let up and let us die!
'Quit firing, by the bow there—quit! Call off the Baltic's crew!
'You're sure of Hell as me or Rube—but wait till we get through.'
There went no word between the ships, but thick and quick and loud
