Have you seen your own sweep, as you swing, seem to creep

Past the boat that’s not ten yards away,

While you tighten your grip, as the oars flash and rip

With a swirl through the water and spray –

And your eyes sting with sweat, and you fight hard to get

Your next breath, and your tongue’s like a bone;

Have you given her ten then done it again,

When you’re rowing on pure nerve alone?