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A Song In Storm

 Be well assured that on our side
 The abiding oceans fight,
 Though headlong wind and heaping tide
 Make us their sport to-night.
By force of weather, not of war, In jeopardy we steer.
Then welcome Fate's discourtesy Whereby it shall appear How in all time of our distress, And our deliverance too, The game is more than the player of the game, And the ship is more than the crew! Out of the mist into the mirk The glimmering combers roll.
Almost these mindless waters work As though they had a soul -- Almost as though they leagued to whelm Our flag beneath their green: Then welcome Fate's discourtesy Whereby it shall be seen, etc.
Be well assured, though wave and wind Have mightier blows in store, That we who keep the watch assigned Must stand to it the more; And as our streaming bows rebuke Each billow's baulked career, Sing, welcome Fate's discourtesy Whereby it is made clear, etc.
No matter though our decks be swept And mast and timber crack -- We can make good all loss except The loss of turning back.
So, 'twixt these Devils and our deep Let courteous trumpets sound, To welcome Fate's discourtesy Whereby it will be found, etc.
Be well assured, though in our power Is nothing left to give But chance and place to meet the hour, And leave to strive to live.
Till these dissolve our Order holds, Our Service binds us here.
Then welcome Fate's discourtesy Whereby it is made clear How in all time of our distress, As in our triumph too, The game is more than the player of the game And the ship is more than the crew!

Poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Book: Shattered Sighs