Looking Aft

LOOKING AFT.

I'm the donkey-man of a dingy tramp They launched in 'Eighty-one, Rickety, old, and leaky too--but some o' the rivets are shining new Beneath our after-gun.

An' she an' meself are off to sea From out o' the breaker's hands, An' we laugh to find such an altered game, for devil a thing we found the same When we came off the land.

We used to carry a freight of trash That younger ships would scorn, But now we're running a decent trade--howitzer-shell and hand-grenade, Or best Alberta corn.

We used to sneak an' smouch along Wi' rusty side an' rails, Hoot an' bellow of liners proud--"Give us the room that we're allowed; Get out o' the track--the Mails!"

We sometimes met--an' took their wash-- The 'aughty ships o' war, An' we dips to them--an' they to us--an' on they went in a tearin' fuss, But now they count us more.

For now we're "England's Hope and Pride"-- The Mercantile Marine,-- "Bring us the goods and food we lack, because we're hungry, Merchant Jack" (As often I have been).

"You're the man to save us now, We look to you to win; Wot'd yer like? A rise o' pay? We'll give whatever you like to say, But bring the cargoes in."

An' here we are in the danger zone, Wi' escorts all around, Destroyers a-racing to and fro--"We will show you the way to go, An' guide you safe an' sound."

"An' did you cross in a comfy way, Or did you have to run? An' is the patch on your hull we see the mark of a bump in 'Ninety-three, Or the work of a German gun?"

"We'll lead you now, and keep beside, An' call to all the Fleet, Clear the road and sweep us in--he carries a freight we need to win, A golden load of wheat."

Yes, we're the hope of England now, And rank wi' the Navy too; An' all the papers speak us fair--"Nothing he will not lightly dare, Nothing he fears to do."

"Be polite to Merchant Jack, Who brings you in the meat, For if he went on a striking lay, you'd have to go on your knees and pray, With never a bone to eat."

But you can lay your papers down An' set your fears aside, For we will keep the ocean free--we o' the clean an' open sea-- To break the German pride.

We won't go canny or strike for pay, Or say we need a rest; But you get on wi' the blinkin' War--an' not so much o' your strikes ashore, Or givin' the German best.