That every night, ere the dawn flamed red,
      For each man there should be twain
    Upon the ships that make their bed
      Where England rules the Main. 
    They pledged—­and the ghost of Nelson led—­
      When the last ship’s gunner fell,
    They would man the guns—­these men long dead—­
      And ram the charges well.

    So we’ll choose the night for the Great Sea Fight
      Nor ever give chase by day,
    Our compeers rise in the white moonlight,
      In the wash of the flying spray;
    And if we fall in the battle-blight,
      The shade of a man long dead
    Fights on till dawn on the sea burns bright
      And Victory, overhead!