Classic Poem

A pia bay wears a smooth, bright face
When the tropic winds are low,
But the harbor curve is a fearsome place
When the great winds rise and blow.

'Tis perilous for barks to ride
At anchor, when the surge
Comes thundering in from the sea outside
And foams on the rocky verge.

From the western states three ships were there,
And one from the English Isle;
They came when the skies were bland and fair,
And the ocean ways a-smile.

But the fierce storms smote them, till they tossed
Like chips from sea to sky;
And two of the ships of the states were lost
And the other drifted nigh.

The coral reefs, to death; but saw
The sturdy English ship
Out from the harbor's seething maw
Toward open water slip.

And sore they yearned to follow her
Beyond the barrier foam,
To change their coral sepulchre
For the sea-leagues leading home;

Yet, as the English, inch by inch,
Away from the shallows drew,
The boys of the States, they did not flinch,
For they cheered the other crew.

Yea, never a soul showed craven then,
Though their fate was plain to see;
The doomed men waved to the luckier men
And gave them three times three.

Three times three, and the cheer rang high
Above the wind and wave,
As the English ship strained safely by,
And the other on to her grave.