THE OLD SUPERB

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LXXIII, 22 February 1941, Page 8

THE OLD SUPERB

jj The wind was rising easterly, the morning sky was blue, = The Straits before us opened wide and free; I 3 We looked towards the Admiral, where high the Peter flew, jj And all our hearts were dancing like the sea. i s "The French are gone to Martinique with four and twenty sail! The Old Superb is old and foul and slow, 3 But the French are gone to Martinique, and Nelson's on the trail, jf 1 | And where he goes the Old Superb must go!" ' 5 The Old Superb was barnacled and green as grass below, jj Her sticks were only fit for stirring grog; x ; S The pride of all her midshipmen was silent long ago, ( ? And long ago they ceased to heave the log. * | Four years out of home she was, and ne'er a week in port, = * And nothing save the guns aboard her bright, jj = But Captain Keats he knew the game, and swore to share the sport, j U For he never yet came in too late to fight. 2 l J z "Now up, my lads!" the Captain cried, "for sure the case were hard j . § If longest out were first to fall behind. f & jj Aloft, aloft with studding sails, and lash them on the yard, l For night and day the Trades are driving blind!" v i So all night long and all day long behind the fleet we crept, £ | And how we fretted none but Nelson guessed; £ | J But every night the Old Superb she sailed when others slept, jj j Till we ran the French to earth with all the rest! jj i j CHORUS (between each verse) ! i Oh, 'twas Westward ho! for Trinidad and Eastward ho! for Spam, | ! And "Ship ahoy!" a hundred times a day; ji • | Round the world if need be, and round the world again, jj i With a lame duck lagging all the way! § —Sir Henry Newbolt. |