|(Part 3 of the Tonga Adventure: Part 1 and 2 linked below.)
Before I'm through I give to you
Red, Silver John, and Bligh;
Before the dawn we carry on--
Arr! Potter, that be aye.
So we maraud this slate of God
to seize what we have found;
yet in this place a molten face
that smokes the base of sound.
We put up sail to no avail,
on Devil's ledge we veer;
from stern to bow the ship is now
in swells of earthquake shear.
Hold tight ye lad, our sea is bad,
the keel of earth spans wide;
volcanic might waves high this night
like Krakatoa's pride.
Tsunamis lash as thick black ash
engulfs this granite tor;
ring shipboard bells as magma wells
beneath the ocean floor.
Cataclysmic, bomb-blast rhythmic,
our plunder melts in throes!
Bounty scattered island shattered--
deep in the sea she goes.
Now shake my hand ye bucko man,
I raise my cup to thee;
in torn gray sleeve I take my leave
and hail this deep blue sea.
But also mate with time now late,
from Cook to Zanzibar,
I give an aye to Thee on high
and hold both sea and star.
We bore the slip of each good ship
and as the stars prevail,
forevermore we sail their shore
as time now fills our sail.
The ocean calm is like a palm
that glistens silver light;
the sky remains, and beauty reigns,
within the Tonga night.
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