We, who may but sit and fret
In impotence, while you would dare
Would brave the battle with you yet
If only chance had set us there.

We each have Vulcans of the mind
To harbour some dark manhood in,
But like the bat that flutters blind
We trust in dreams we cannot win.

And when each day's short course has run
And dreams lie scattered at our feet,
We think of all we might have done
And join, at heart, your battlefleet.

David Lewis Paget