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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519226" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Craven</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Over the turret, shut in his iron-clad tower, <br>Craven was conning his ship through smoke and flame; <br>Gun to gun he had battered the fort for an hour, <br>Now was the time for a charge to end the game. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There lay the narrowing channel, smooth and grim, <br>A hundred deaths beneath it, and never a sign; <br>There lay the enemy's ships, and sink or swim <br>The flag was flying, and he was head of the line. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The fleet behind was jamming; the monitor hung <br>Beating the stream; the roar for a moment hushed, <br>Craven spoke to the pilot; slow she swung; <br>Again he spoke, and right for the foe she rushed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Into the narrowing channel, between the shore <br>And the sunk torpedoes lying in treacherous rank; <br>She turned but a yard too short; a muffled roar, <br>A mountainous wave, and she rolled, righted, and sank. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Over the manhole, up in the iron-clad tower, <br>Pilot and Captain met as they turned to fly: <br>The hundredth part of a moment seemed an hour, <br>For one could pass to be saved, and one must die. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">They stood like men in a dream: Craven spoke, <br>Spoke as he lived and fought, with a Captain's pride, <br>'After you, Pilot.' The pilot woke, <br>Down the ladder he went, and Craven died. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">All men praise the deed and the manner, but we— <br>We set it apart from the pride that stoops to the proud, <br>The strength that is supple to serve the strong and free, <br>The grace of the empty hands and promises loud: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sidney thirsting, a humbler need to slake, <br>Nelson waiting his turn for the surgeon's hand, <br>Lucas crushed with chains for a comrade's sake, <br>Outram coveting right before command: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">These were paladins, these were Craven's peers, <br>These with him shall be crowned in story and song, <br>Crowned with the glitter of steel and the glimmer of tears, <br>Princes of courtesy, merciful, proud, and strong.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sir+Henry+Newbolt">Sir Henry Newbolt</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519226" data-title="Craven de Sir Henry Newbolt" data-description="Over the turret, shut in his iron-clad tower, 
Craven was conning his ship through smoke and flame; 
Gun to gun he had battered the fort for an hour, 
Now was the time for a charge to end the game. 

There lay the narrowing channel, smooth and gri..."></div>
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