| |
| WHEN the Great Ark, in Vigo Bay, | |
| Rode stately through the half-manned fleet, | |
| From every ship about her way | |
| She heard the mariners entreat— | |
| “Before we take the seas again | 5 |
| Let down your boats and send us men! | |
| |
| “We have no lack of victual here | |
| With work—God knows!—enough for all, | |
| To hand and reef and watch and steer, | |
| Because our present strength is small. | 10 |
| While your three decks are crowded so | |
| Your crews can scarcely stand or go. | |
| |
| “In war, your numbers do but raise | |
| Confusion and divided will; | |
| In storm, the mindless deep obeys | 15 |
| Not multitudes but single skill. | |
| In calm, your numbers, closely pressed, | |
| Must breed a mutiny or pest. | |
| |
| “We, even on unchallenged seas, | |
| Dare not adventure where we would, | 20 |
| But forfeit brave advantages | |
| For lack of men to make ’em good; | |
| Whereby, to England’s double cost, | |
| Honour and profit both are lost!” | |
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