The moon's serene and silvery face

Make of this vessel an enchanted place

Full of white mirth and golden sorcery.

Now, for a time, shall careless laughter be

Blended with song, to lend song sweeter grace,

And the old stars, in their unending race,

will heed and envy young humanity.

And yet to-night, a thousand leagues away,

The waters blush a strange and awful red.

Before the moon, a cloud obscenely grey

Rises from decks that crash with flying lead.

And these stars smile their immemorial way

On waves that shroud a thousand newly dead!

newly dead!