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Poem by Rudyard Kipling Tin Fish 1914-18 Sea Warfare The ships destroy us above And ensnare us beneath. We arise, we lie down, and we In the belly of Death. The ships have a thousand eyes To mark where we come... But the mirth of a seaport dies When our blow gets home. Rudyard Kipling Rudyard Kipling's other poems: 5357 Views |
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