They are buffeting out in the bitter grey weather,
-Blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down!-
And burly blue waters all swelling aroun’.
butting ahead as they wallow,
With death in the mesh of their deep-sea trawl;
swooping by wild
And old Cap’n Storm-along leading ’em all.
Bashing the seas to a welter of white,
Look at the fleet that he leads to the fight.
O, they’re dancing like witches to open the ball;
And old Cap’n Storm-along’s lord of ’em all.
Now, where have you seen such a bully old sailor?
His eyes are as blue as the scarf at his throat;
And he rolls on the bridge of his broad-beamed whaler,
In yellow sou’-wester and oilskin coat.
In trawler and drifter, in dinghy and dory,
Wherever he signals, they leap to his call;
They batter the seas to a lather of glory,
With old Cap’n Storm-along leading ’em all.
You’ll find he’s from Devon, the sailor I mean;
Look at his whaler now, shipping it green.
O, Fritz and his ‘U’-boat must crab it and crawl
When old Cap’n Storm-along sails to the ball.
Ay, there is the skipper that knows how to scare ’em
-Blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down!&mdash:
Look at the sea-wives he keeps in his harem,
Wicked young merry-maids, buxom and brown :
the sea-witch, and
All dancing like ducks in the teeth of the squall,
With a bright eye for Huns, and a Hotchkiss to kiss ’em;
For old Cap’n Storm-along’s lord of ’em all.
Look at him, battering darkness to light!
Look at the fleet that he leads to the fight!
O, hearts that are mighty, in ships that are small,
Your old Cap’n Storm-along’s king of us all.