Classic Poem

The great sea-roads to England
Have many little gates—
You saw some once—those bustling ports,
And winding ribbon straits;

And little foreign harbours
Tucked safely in from blasts;
And lighted dockyards, swaying ships,
And forests of straight masts.

And somewhere ever waiting
A slim grey Man of War,
To keep the peace for England,
Is never very far.