Shadows (Howe)/The Helmsman
HAT shall I ask for the voyage I must sail to the end alone?Summer and calms and rest from never a labor done?Nay, blow, ye life-winds all; curb not for me your blast,Strain ye my quivering ropes, bend ye my trembling mast.Then there can be no drifting, thank God! for boat or me,—Strenuous, swift, our course over a living sea.Mine is a man's right arm to steer through fog and foam;Beacons are shining still to guide each farer home.Give me your worst, O winds! others have met the stress;E'en if it be to sink, give me no less, no less.
THE HELMSMAN
HAT shall I ask for the voyage I must sail to the end alone?Summer and calms and rest from never a labor done?Nay, blow, ye life-winds all; curb not for me your blast,Strain ye my quivering ropes, bend ye my trembling mast.Then there can be no drifting, thank God! for boat or me,—Strenuous, swift, our course over a living sea.Mine is a man's right arm to steer through fog and foam;Beacons are shining still to guide each farer home.Give me your worst, O winds! others have met the stress;E'en if it be to sink, give me no less, no less.