The H.L. Hunley--Silent Vessel

"The H.L. Hunley--Silent Vessel"

Eight men went toiling one cold lonely night
With compass and moon their beacon for sight
They set their course with blind delight
As their tomb encased them silently.

The harbor's cold waters thus took them so far
Greased palms, oil lamps, this implement of war
No engine, just sweat, across the bar
One league more to deliver death's spar.

Fear that one's labor may not come to pass
Would be known tonight be it at last
Eight souls in the depths, many years at their masts
The crew of the Hunley, their lots to be cast.

A half league left as soldiers sailed onward
Did their duty and passed to leeward
As the spar hit its mark and the crew headed homeward
As their tomb encased them silently.

The captain's cry as he felt the tomb shutter
Came about as he turned harder the rudder
The lamp went out as the flame started to flutter
As their tomb encased them silently.

A century and two score lay buried in the silt
The memories of those this tomb they had built
Death had been wrought, the pain and the guilt
As the Hunley and its crew lay sleeping.

(In memory of the crew of the Confederate submarine H.L. Hunley)