The Sinking of Circe

The leak below decks to the lee
Filled the cargo with the inrushing sea
And none was any the wiser.
Under a Capricorn moon, the tide
Filled in the hollow spaces on the aft side
And it was too late to save her.

One, two, three, heave!
One, two, three, ho!

A merry chase and a hearty shove
And all our effects falling like dead doves
Filling the air as shout rang from above;
Naught could be done on a sea so rough.

The captain’s dying men
And the Circe’s grisly end
Lent a soundtrack to a lonely night.
But all must be returned,
So as the sea bubbled and churned,
All sound at last was forced to cease.

The lifeboats on the glass
Filled with the very last
Survivors who might leave the Circe be.
The captain in his room,
Resigned to his coming doom,
Loaded his pistol and said this last to me:

Carry on, Mr. Lee, and get thee
On the sea, for to my native home I do return.
And on that distant shore, remember me
As something more than the failed captain
Of the doomed Circe.
For all must die, but never will I lie
Back and take the ignoble lie
That I gave in and in hell will I fry.
So tell my lonely lass
That I died on a sea of glass
And to Atlantic dust I did return.