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 wo n'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.