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That
rocket
by
where
,
light
and
high
,
the
wild
grape
swings
.
By
the
rubbish
in
our
wake
,
and
the
noble
noise
we
make
,
Be
sure
,
be
sure
,
we
're
going
to
do
some
splendid
things
!
What
of
the
hunting
,
hunter
bold
?
Brother
,
the
watch
was
long
and
cold
.
What
of
the
quarry
ye
went
to
kill
?
Brother
,
he
crops
in
the
jungle
still
.
Where
is
the
power
that
made
your
pride
?
Brother
,
it
ebbs
from
my
flank
and
side
.
Where
is
the
haste
that
ye
hurry
by
?
