The ships destroy us above
And ensnare us beneath.
We arise, we lie down, and we
In the belly of Death.
The ships have a thousand eyes
To mark where we come . . .
But the mirth of a seaport dies
When our blow gets home.
The ships destroy us above
And ensnare us beneath.
We arise, we lie down, and we
In the belly of Death.
The ships have a thousand eyes
To mark where we come . . .
But the mirth of a seaport dies
When our blow gets home.
© Rudyard Kipling