A FAREWELL POEM FOR THE QE2

The Great Ship

"In Clydebank the crane jibs are lifting and swinging

In the yard, builders' hammers on steel plates are ringing

All over the hull, welders' torches are glowing

Out on the slipway the great ship is growing

The hull is complete and the launch day is nearing,

Her name is revealed now, as thousands are cheering,
The ritual bottle breaks on her bow plating,

There on the slipway the great ship lies waiting

At first, on the 'ways, she seems doomed to remain there

Then, anxious to leave, as the drag chains restrain her

She enters the water, her proud stern lifting

On Scotland's great river, the great ship is drifting

Silver the moonlight upon the sea flashing

Hard 'gainst her bows the great ocean is crashing

Like great Queens before her, her power is unfailing

'Cross the Atlantic the great ship is sailing

Far to the southwards the war hounds are baying

Already the ships of the task force are sailing

Her country has called, flames of war are igniting,

The great ship responds, and sets sail for the fighting

Decks crowded with troops she comes back to her home port

The soldiers' homecoming, their families to comfort

Wives, sons and daughters, their hearts filled with yearning,

laughing and crying. The great ship's returning

To the fjords of Norway, the warm Caribbean,

To far distant islands, around the Aegean,

Her passengers savour what soon they'll be losing,

On the seas of the world, the great ship is cruising

Regally, stately she moves from the quayside,

Away down the Solent she slips on the ebb tide,

Heart-rending and poignant her siren's last crying,

Her faithful are weeping - the great ship is dying.

Her faithful are weeping - the great ship is dying."

(By Cruachan via the Cruise Critic's QE2 Memory Book)