Classic Poem

IT WAS our war-ship Clampherdown
Would sweep the Channel clean,
Wherefore she kept her hatches close
When the merry Channel chops arose,
To save the bleached Marine.

She had one bow-gun of a hundred ton
And a great stern-gun beside.
They dipped their noses deep in the sea,
They racked their stays and stanchions free
In the wash of the wind-whipped tide.

It was our war-ship Clampherdown
Fell in with a cruiser light
That carried the dainty Hotchkiss gun
And a pair of heels wherewith to run
From the grip of a close-fought fight.

She opened fire at seven miles —
As ye shoot at a bobbing cork —
And once she fired and twice she fired,
Till the bow-gun dropped like a lily tired
That lolls upon the stalk.

" Captain, the bow-gun melts apace,
" The deck-beams break below,
" 'Twere well to rest for an hour or twain,
" And botch the shattered plates again. "
And he answered, " Make it so. "

She opened fire within the mile —
As ye shoot at the flying duck —
And the great stern-gun shot fair and true,
With the heave of the ship, to the stainless blue,
And the great stern-turret stuck.

" Captain, the turret fills with steam,
" The feed-pipes burst below —
" You can hear the hiss of the helpless ram,
" You can hear the twisted runners jam. "
And he answered, " Turn and go! "

It was our war-ship Clampherdown ,
And grimly did she roll;
Swung round to take the cruiser's fire
As the White Whale faces the Thresher's ire
When they war by the frozen Pole.

" Captain, the shells are falling fast,
" And faster still fall we;
" And it is not meet for English stock
" To bide in the heart of an eight-day clock
" The death they cannot see. "

" Lie down, lie down, my bold A. B.,
" We drift upon her beam;
" We dare not ram, for she can run:
" And dare ye fire another gun,
" And die in the peeling steam? "

It was our war-ship Clampherdown
That carried an armour-belt;
But fifty feet at stern and bow
Lay bare as the paunch of the purser's sow,
To the hail of the Nordenfeldt.

" Captain, they hack us through and through;
" The chilled steel bolts are swift!
" We have emptied our bunkers in open sea,
" Their shrapnel bursts where our coal should be. "
And he answered, " Let her drift. "

It was our war-ship Clampherdown
Swung round upon the tide,
Her two dumb guns glared south and north,
And the blood and the bubbling steam ran forth,
And she ground the cruiser's side.

" Captain, they cry, the fight is done,
" They bid you send your sword. "
And he answered, " Grapple her stern and bow.
" They have asked for the steel. They shall have it now;
" Out cutlasses and board! "

It was our war-ship Clampherdown
Spewed up four hundred men;
And the scalded stokers yelped delight,
As they rolled in the waist and heard the fight,
Stamp o'er their steel-walled pen.

They cleared the cruiser end to end
From conning-tower to hold.
They fought as they fought in Nelson's fleet;
They were stripped to the waist, they were bare to the feet,
As it was in the days of old.

It was the sinking Clampherdown
Heaved up her battered side —
And carried a million pounds in steel
To the cod and the corpse-fed conger-eel,
And the scour of the Channel tide.

It was the crew of the Clampherdown
Stood out to sweep the sea,
On a cruiser won from an ancient foe,
As it was in the days of long ago,
And as it still shall be!