Come Young Pirates, Creation's Pride, X I X Poem by Captain Cur

So when the winds did silently arrange
To move us west along the empty plain
No herald blasts nor trumpets did take form
This sea calm, unafflicted by rogue storms.
In the noon the great whales came to play
And dry their backs, then wet again with spray,
In pairs they rose with deep vaporous breath
Condensing air with each sporadic jet;
With somber joy they swam in holy calm
As each man looked he raised a reverent arm,
Back to the depths they scattered far and wide,
Us men or whales, who are creation's pride?