Archibald Thomas Strong Poems

ALL the first night she might not weep
But watched till morning came,
And when she slept at dawn, she heard
The dead man call her name.
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By all the deeds to Thy dear glory done,
By all the life blood spilt to serve Thy need,
By all the fettered lives Thy touch hath freed,
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Forth sped thy gallant sailors, blithe and free,
Fearing nor foeman’s hate, nor iron clime,
Nor Lima’s flame, nor Plata’s fever-slime,
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The Sunlight laughs along the serried stone
About whose feet the wastrel tide runs free;
Light lie the shipmasts, fairy-like to see,
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By all the deeds to Thy dear glory done,
By all the life blood spilt to serve Thy need,
By all the fettered lives Thy touch hath freed,
By all Thy dream in us anew begun;
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LADY of Sorrow! What though laughing blue,
Thy sister, mock men’s anguish, and the sun
Glare like a wrathful judge on many a one
That longs for night his bitter shame to rue,
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Great sea dog, fighter in the great old way!
What though thy ships were tinder, and the pest
Rotted thy ruffian crews that need had prest,
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The Night is thick with storm and driving cloud,
Lurid at instants through the blackness break
Quick gleams of war across the perilous lake
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Gallant is Spring along thy laughing hills,
With wattle’s loveliest scent and gleam of gold,
When the good rain hath quickened all thy mould,
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White soul of England’s glory, sovereign star!
Ne’er shall disaster beat her down, nor shame,
While still she sees thee by the leaping flame
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