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Title: The Fighting Temeraire
Author: Henry Newbolt [
More Titles by Newbolt]
It was eight bells ringing,
For the morning watch was done,
And the gunner's lads were singing
As they polished every gun.
It was eight bells ringing,
And the gunner's lads were singing,
For the ship she rode a-swinging
As they polished every gun.
_Oh! til see the linstock lighting,
Temeraire! Temeraire!
Oh! to hear the round shot biting,
Temeraire! Temeraire!
Oh! to see the linstock lighting,
And to hear the round shot biting,
For we're all in love with fighting
On the Fighting Temeraire._
It was noontide ringing,
And the battle just begun,
When the ship her way was winging
As they loaded every gun.
It was noontide ringing,
When the ship her way was winging,
And the gunner's lads were singing
As they loaded every gun.
There'll be many grim and gory,
Temeraire! Temeraire!
There'll be few to tell the story,
Temeraire! Temeraire!
There'll be many grim and gory,
There'll be few to tell the story,
But we'll all be one in glory
With the fighting Temeraire.
There's a far bell ringing
At the setting of the sun,
And a phantom voice is singing
Of the great days done.
There's a far bell ringing,
And a phantom voice is singing
Of renown for ever clinging
To the great days done.
Now the sunset breezes shiver,
Temeraire! Temeraire!
And she's fading down the river,
Temeraire! Temeraire!
Now the sunset breezes shiver,
And she's fading down the river,
But in England's song for ever
She's the Fighting Temeraire.
NOTE:
_The fighting Temeraire_.--The last two stanzas have been misunderstood. It seems, therefore, necessary to state that they are intended to refer to Turner's picture in the National Gallery of "The Fighting _Temeraire_ tugged to her Last Berth."
[The end]
Henry Newbolt's poem: Fighting Temeraire
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