Pirate Song


“To the mast nail our flag! it is dark as the grave,Or the death which it bears while it sweeps o’er the wave;Let our decks clear for action, our guns be prepared;Be the boarding-axe sharpened, the scimetar bared:Set the canisters ready, and then bring to me,For the last of my duties, the powder-room key.It shall never be lowered, the black flag we bear,If the sea be denied us, we sweep through the air.Unshared have we left our last victory’s prey;It is mine to divide it, and yours to obey:There are shawls that might suit a Sultana’s white neck,And pearls that are fair as the arms they will deck;There are flasks which, unseal them, the air will discloseDiametta’s fair summers, the home of the rose.I claim not a portion: I ask but as mine—But to drink to our victory—one cup of red wine.Some fight, ’tis for riches—some fight, ’tis for fame:The first I despise, and the last is a name.I fight ’tis for vengeance! I love to see flow,At the stroke of my sabre, the life of my foe.I strike for the memory of long-vanished years;I only shed blood where another sheds tears,I come, as the lightning comes red from above,O’er the race that I loathe, to the battle I love.”

Posted by Under The Black Flag on 3:33 π.μ.. Filed under . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0

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