Fleet, fleet and few, ay, fleet the moments fly

Fleet, fleet and few, ay, fleet the moments fly—
(Lash to light live foam, ye oars, the dreaming seas)
And shall we lie in swine-sloth here at ease—
(Dip, dip, ye oars, and dash the dark seas by),
In swine-sloth here while death is stealing nigh—
(Sweep, oars, sweep, here ripples and sparkles the breeze),
And work is ours to drain to the last lees?
(Drive oars and winds, we will dare and do ere we die).

And if no sound of voice nor any call
Break the death-silence bidding us all hail,
And, even among the living, Fame should fail
To shrill our deeds, yet whatsoe'er befall,
As men who fought for good not guerdon at all,
Peal the glad Pæan! (Steady oars and sail.)