Poems: New and Old (Newbolt)/The Service
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The Service
The British Navy—all our years have been
Strong in the pride of it, secure, serene.
But who, remembering wars of long ago,
Knew what to our Sea-walls we yet should owe?
Who thought to see the hand of shameless shame
With scraps of paper set the world aflame,
Barbarian hordes upon a neighbouring coast
Rape, massacre, enslave, blaspheme and boast,
And savage monsters, lurking under sea,
Murder the wives and children of the free?
If in this battle with a power accurst
We have risked all and yet escaped the worst,
Thanks be to those who gave us ships and guns
When generous folly still would trust in Huns;
Thanks be to those who trained upon the deep
The valour and the skill that never sleep;
Thanks above all to those who fight our fight
For Britain's honour and for all men's right.
Strong in the pride of it, secure, serene.
But who, remembering wars of long ago,
Knew what to our Sea-walls we yet should owe?
Who thought to see the hand of shameless shame
With scraps of paper set the world aflame,
Barbarian hordes upon a neighbouring coast
Rape, massacre, enslave, blaspheme and boast,
And savage monsters, lurking under sea,
Murder the wives and children of the free?
If in this battle with a power accurst
We have risked all and yet escaped the worst,
Thanks be to those who gave us ships and guns
When generous folly still would trust in Huns;
Thanks be to those who trained upon the deep
The valour and the skill that never sleep;
Thanks above all to those who fight our fight
For Britain's honour and for all men's right.
And now away! away! put off with me
From this dear island to the open sea:
Enter those floating ramparts on the foam
Where exiled seamen guard their long-lost home:
Enter and ask—except of child or wife—
Ask the whole secret of their ordered life.
Their wisdom has three words, unwrit, untold,
But handed down from heart to heart of old:
The first is this: while ships are ships the aim
Of every man aboard is still the same.
On land there's something men self-interest call,
Here each must save himself by saving all.
Your danger's mine: who thinks to stand aside
When the ship's buffeted by wind and tide?
If she goes down, we know that we go too—
Not just the watch on deck, but all the crew.
Mark now what follows—no half-willing work
From minds divided or from hands that shirk,
But that one perfect freedom, that content
Which comes of force for something greater spent,
And welds us all, from conning tower to keel,
In one great fellowship of tempered steel.
From this dear island to the open sea:
Enter those floating ramparts on the foam
Where exiled seamen guard their long-lost home:
Enter and ask—except of child or wife—
Ask the whole secret of their ordered life.
Their wisdom has three words, unwrit, untold,
But handed down from heart to heart of old:
The first is this: while ships are ships the aim
Of every man aboard is still the same.
On land there's something men self-interest call,
Here each must save himself by saving all.
Your danger's mine: who thinks to stand aside
When the ship's buffeted by wind and tide?
If she goes down, we know that we go too—
Not just the watch on deck, but all the crew.
Mark now what follows—no half-willing work
From minds divided or from hands that shirk,
But that one perfect freedom, that content
Which comes of force for something greater spent,
And welds us all, from conning tower to keel,
In one great fellowship of tempered steel.
The third is like to these:—there is no peace
In the sea-life, our warfare does not cease.
The great emergency in which we strain
With all our force, our passion and our pain,
Is no mere transient fight with hostile kings,
But mortal war against immortal things—
Danger and Death themselves, whose end shall be
When there is no more wind and no more sea.
In the sea-life, our warfare does not cease.
The great emergency in which we strain
With all our force, our passion and our pain,
Is no mere transient fight with hostile kings,
But mortal war against immortal things—
Danger and Death themselves, whose end shall be
When there is no more wind and no more sea.
What of this sea-born wisdom? Is it not
Truth that on land we have too long forgot
While this great ship the Commonwealth's afloat
Are we not seamen all, and in one boat?
Have we not all one freedom, lost and found
When to one service body and soul are bound?
And is not life itself, if seen aright,
A great emergency, an endless fight
For all men's native land, and worth the price
Of all men's service and their sacrifice?
Truth that on land we have too long forgot
While this great ship the Commonwealth's afloat
Are we not seamen all, and in one boat?
Have we not all one freedom, lost and found
When to one service body and soul are bound?
And is not life itself, if seen aright,
A great emergency, an endless fight
For all men's native land, and worth the price
Of all men's service and their sacrifice?
Ah! had we that sea-wisdom, could we steer
By those same stars for even half the year,
How plain would seem, as viewed from armoured decks,
The problems that our longshore hearts perplex!
Less than his uttermost then none would give,
More than his just reward would none receive,
No! nor desire it, for to feast or hoard
While the next table shows a hungry board,
Whatever modern landmade laws may say
Is not the custom of Trafalgar's Bay.
The Brotherhood, the Service, Life at War,
These are the bonds that hold where heroes are,
These only make the men who weary not,
The men who fall rejoicing, self-forgot.
By those same stars for even half the year,
How plain would seem, as viewed from armoured decks,
The problems that our longshore hearts perplex!
Less than his uttermost then none would give,
More than his just reward would none receive,
No! nor desire it, for to feast or hoard
While the next table shows a hungry board,
Whatever modern landmade laws may say
Is not the custom of Trafalgar's Bay.
The Brotherhood, the Service, Life at War,
These are the bonds that hold where heroes are,
These only make the men who weary not,
The men who fall rejoicing, self-forgot.
Come back to that unfading afternoon.
Where Jutland echoes to the First of June
And Beatty raging with a lion's might
Roars out his heart to keep the foe from flight.
The Grand Fleet comes at last; the day is ours;
Mile beyond mile the line majestic towers:
The battle bends: Hood takes the foremost place
With the grand manner of his famous race,
Beats off the giant Hindenburg, and then
Goes down, pursuing still, with all his men.
Not all!—out yonder where the sun shall set
Four last Invincibles are floating yet,
Abandoned, doomed, but cheering to the last
As dreadnought after dreadnought thunders past:
Cheering for joy to see, though they must die,
The van of Life-victorious sweeping by.
Where Jutland echoes to the First of June
And Beatty raging with a lion's might
Roars out his heart to keep the foe from flight.
The Grand Fleet comes at last; the day is ours;
Mile beyond mile the line majestic towers:
The battle bends: Hood takes the foremost place
With the grand manner of his famous race,
Beats off the giant Hindenburg, and then
Goes down, pursuing still, with all his men.
Not all!—out yonder where the sun shall set
Four last Invincibles are floating yet,
Abandoned, doomed, but cheering to the last
As dreadnought after dreadnought thunders past:
Cheering for joy to see, though they must die,
The van of Life-victorious sweeping by.
My friends, I do not ask for men like these
A little dole, a little time of ease.
For them and all who love them, all who mourn,
And all that to their faith shall yet be born,
I ask you this—take them for what they are,
Your Comrades in the Service, Life at War.
A little dole, a little time of ease.
For them and all who love them, all who mourn,
And all that to their faith shall yet be born,
I ask you this—take them for what they are,
Your Comrades in the Service, Life at War.