Ruskin logs, 1914-1918 / Alfred Ruskin - Page 175
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[Page 175]
"The Man Below"
1. The furnace gleams, & fiery seams lick thro the open doors,
Where the Stoker, stripped, with sweat bedripped skid o'er the stokehold floors,
And the walls of steel, & a quiv'ring Keel, rip thru the swirling seas,
For the Stoker knows, as the coal he throws, his the pulse of the Power he frees.
When Battle-bells ring, his steel kettles sing the song of the scalding steam,
For the rising gauge he knows can wage the swing of his bridled team.
2. He scorns the shot that strikes his Pot as he feeds the floating hell,
He craves no rest, nor cools his breast, and he asks no breathing spell.
For it's up to him to stoke & trim tho' tides rip thru the plates.
For the Stoker brave has no thought to care but the lives of his deck mess-mates.
Oh! The Admirals' bold, and the crew all told,
But the man that heaves the coal,
Is the best of all, for he kicks the Ball
That scores the winning Goal.
[Transcribed by Jacqueline Lamprecht for the State Library of New South Wales]