Sadly the sailor gazed at the ice,The endless ice, the unrelenting iceThat held his ship in its frigid grip.Swallowed the rum in his cold tin mug,Poured from the jug another slugAnd toasted the frozen scene.He searched in his soulFor some small burning coal,But found only ashes and frost.He turned, faced the windAnd bitterly grinned,For he knew, that this battle,was lost.