Songs of the Fleet - The Song of the Guns at Sea

Oh hear!    Oh hear!         Across the sullen tide         Across the echoing dome horizon-wide         What pulse of fear         Beats with tremendous boom!         What call of instant doom,         With thunderstroke of terror and of pride,         With urgency that may not be denied,         Reverberates upon the heart's own drum         Come! . . .    Come! . . . for thou must come!         Come forth, O Soul!         This is thy day of power.         This is the day and this the glorious hour         That was the goal         Of thy self-conquering strife.         The love of child and wife,         The fields of Earth and the wide ways of Thought--         Did not thy purpose count them all as nought         That in this moment thou thyself mayst give         And in thy country's life for ever live?         Therefore rejoice         That in thy passionate prime         Youth's nobler hope disdained the spoils of Time         And thine own choice         Fore-earned for thee this day.         Rejoice! rejoice to obey         In the great hour of life that men call Death         The beat that bids thee draw heroic breath,         Deep-throbbing till thy mortal heart be dumb         Come! . . .    Come! . . . the time is come!