Song for the Sailor-men. NOW it's hail to the commander, And it's hail the valiant fleet! And it's hail the guns that thundered Through the battle's lurid heat! But we'll not forget the sailors, So it's sailor-men, hurrah! It's your country's hand we give you, For to shake your grimy paw. The sailor-men, the sailor-men, And the navvies we don't know Oh, cheer the mighty commodore,- A SONG FOR THE SAILOR-MEN. Where the devil lit his furnace, The sailor-men, the sailor-men, For to crown the seaman's valor, Now it's hail unto the commodore, For they fought the fight with valor The sailor-men, the sailor-men, Though that duty be to die, For the land from hill to valley With your splendid triumph thrills! Yea, hail the grimy sailor-man, — Oh, the sailor-man, the sailor-man! Valor's bloody race is run, For, behold, the commodore Without the grimy sailor-man Can't make the cannon roar! IN DAYS LIKE THESE. In Days Like These. GOD of hosts, whose mighty hand 'Mid clashing arms and bugles' blare, While war-drums fret the fevered air, In days like these, be near, O Lord. The winds have swept our colors out, With measured step and loyal shout, The men trooped by who now are missed. The hilltops signal far away, And sea calls sea with beacon lips, To strike the foe at break of day. Forgive, O Lord, that we forgot To humble self and thee to please; Our vows unkept, sins thought, unthought, Forgive, O Lord, in days like these. Our gift upon the altar lies, Accept it ere thou call us hence, Although thou saidst obedience Is better than a sacrifice. 'Tis not for gain or vengeful spite Our treasure and our life is poured, Since whom thou usest thou must trust; - Thomas H. Stacy. |