. Salt-water poems and ballads. a sparkSuddenly light a barkWith long flames leaping. Then, as they stood amazed. Others and others blazed ; Then terror set them crazed. They ran down screaming: Fire-ships are coming ! Wake ! Cast loose, for Jesus sake ! Eight fire-ships come from Drake — Look at their gleaming! 71 72 SEA PICTURES Roused in the dark from saw the fire show red,And instant panic spreadThrough troops and sailors;They swarmed on deck did what terror bade,King, they were like the madEscaped from jailers. Some prayed for mercy, some Rang bells or beat the drum. As
. Salt-water poems and ballads. a sparkSuddenly light a barkWith long flames leaping. Then, as they stood amazed. Others and others blazed ; Then terror set them crazed. They ran down screaming: Fire-ships are coming ! Wake ! Cast loose, for Jesus sake ! Eight fire-ships come from Drake — Look at their gleaming! 71 72 SEA PICTURES Roused in the dark from saw the fire show red,And instant panic spreadThrough troops and sailors;They swarmed on deck did what terror bade,King, they were like the madEscaped from jailers. Some prayed for mercy, some Rang bells or beat the drum. As though despair had come At hells contriving; Captains with terror pale Screamed through the dark their hailj Cut cable, loose the sail, And set all driving! Heading all ways at once,Grinding each others guns,Our blundering galleonsAthwart-hawse and plankings cleft,And half our tackling grand Armada leftThe roads of Calais. Weary and overwroughtWe strove to make all taut;But when the morning brought. <u J3 *-i ni 0 m ?B a -M & OS o ?XJ 1—1 ?)-) tn ta 3 ?T3 c 1—1 <! SEA PICTURES 73 The dawn to light us,Drake, with the weather gage,Made signal to engage,And, like a pard in rage,Bore down to fight us. Nobly the English lineTrampled the bubbled brine;We heard the gun-trucks whineTo the taut we saw them forge,White billowing at the , on! they cried, St. George!Down with the Spaniard ! From their van squadron brokeA withering battle-stroke,Tearing our planked oakBy straiks the wood like rotWith such a hail of shot,So constant and so hotIt beat us under. The English would not close;They fought us as they chose,Dealing us deadly blowsFor seven hours. 74 SEA PICTURES Lords of our chiefest rankThe bitter billow drank,For there the English sankThree ships of ours. Then the wind forced us northward from the fight; We could not ship the army nor return; We held the sea in trouble through the night, Watching the E
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Keywords: ., bookauthormasefiel, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookyear1916
