The Last Fight
by
Lewis Frank Tooker (1855-1925) |
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THAT night I think that no one slept;
No bells were
struck, no whistle blew,
And when the watch was changed I
crept
From man to man of all the crew
With whispered
orders. Though we swept
Through roaring seas, we hushed
the clock,
And muffled every clanking block.
So
when one fool, unheeding, cried
Some petty order,
straight I ran,
And threw him sprawling o'er the side.
All life is but a narrow span:
It little matters that
one bide
A moment longer here, for all
Fare the same
road, whate'er befall.
But vain my care; for when the
day
Broke gray and wet, we saw the foe
But half a
stormy league away.
By noon we saw his black bows throw
Five fathoms high a wall of spray;
A little more, we
heard the drum,
And knew that our last hour had come.
All day our crew had lined the side
With grim, set
faces, muttering;
And once a boy (the first that died)
One of our wild songs tried to sing:
But when their
first shot missed us wide,
A dozen sprang above our rail,
Shook fists, and roared a cursing hail.
Thereon, all
hot for war, they bound
Their heads with cool, wet bands,
and drew
Their belts close, and their keen blades
ground;
Then, at the next gun's puff of blue,
We set
the grog-cup on its round,
And pledged for life or
pledged for death
Our last sigh of expiring breath.
Laughing, our brown young singer fell
As their next
shot crashed through our rail;
Then 'twixt us flashed the
fire of hell,
That shattered spar and riddled sail.
What ill we wrought we could not tell;
But blood-red all
their scuppers dripped
When their black hull to starboard
dipped.
Nine times I saw our helmsman fall,
And
nine times sent new men, who took
The whirling wheel as
at death's call;
But when I saw the last one look
From sky to deck, then, reeling, crawl
Under the
shattered rail to die,
I knew where I should surely lie.
I could not send more men to stand
And turn in
idleness the wheel
Until they took death's beckoning
hand,
While others, meeting steel with steel,
Flamed
out their lives-an eager band,
Cheers on their lips, and
in their eyes
The goal-rapt look of high emprise.
So to the wheel I went. Like bees
I heard the shot go
darting by;
There came a trembling in my knees,
And
black spots whirled about the sky.
I thought of things
beyond the seas-
The little town where I was born,
And
swallows twittering in the morn.
A wounded creature
drew him where
I grasped the wheel, and begged to steer.
It mattered not how he might fare
The little time he
had for fear;
So if I left this to his care
He too
might serve us yet, he said.
He died there while I shook
my head.
I would not fall so like a dog,
My
helpless back turned to the foe;
So when his great hulk,
like a log,
Came surging past our quarter, lo!
With
helm hard down, straight through the fog
Of battle
smoke, and luffing wide,
I sent our sharp bow through his
side.
The willing waves came rushing in
The ragged
entrance that we gave;
Like snakes I heard their green
coils spin
Up, up, around our floating grave;
But
dauntless still, amid a din
Of clashing steel and
battle-shout,
We rushed to drive their boarders out.
Around me in a closing ring
My grim-faced foemen
darkly drew;
Then, sweeter than the lark in spring,
Loud rang our blades; the red sparks flew.
Twice, thrice,
I felt the sudden sting
Of some keen stroke; then,
swinging fair,
My own clave more than empty air.
The fight went raging past me when
My good blade cleared
a silent place;
Then in a ring of fallen men
I paused
to breathe a little space.
Elsewhere the deck roared
like a glen
When mountain torrents meet; the fray
A
moment then seemed far away.
The barren sea swept to
the sky;
The empty sky dipped to the sea;
Such utter
waste could scarcely lie
Beyond death's starved
periphery.
Only one living thing went by:
Far overhead
an ominous bird
Rode down the gale with wings unstirred.
Windward I saw the billows swing
Dark crests to
beckon others on
To see our end; then, hurrying
To
reach us ere we should be gone,
They came, like tigers
mad to fling
Their jostling bodies on our ships,
And
snarl at us with foaming lips.
There was no time to
spare: a wave
E'en then broke growling at my feet;
One
last look to the sky I gave,
Then sprang my eager foes
to meet.
Loud rang the fray above our grave-
I felt
the vessel downward reel
As my last thrust met thrusting
steel.
I heard a roaring in my ears;
A green wall
pressed against my eyes;
Down, down I passed; the
vanished years
I saw in mimicry arise.
Yet even then I
felt no fears,
And with my last expiring breath
My
past rose up and mocked at death. |
By Lewis Frank Tooker (1855-1925)
Listed October 26, 2013 |
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