"Ye captains courageous, of valour so bold, Whom think you before you now you do behold?” "A knight, sir, of England, and captain so free, Who shortly with us a prisoner must be."

"No captain of England; behold in your sight Two breasts in my bosom, and therefore no knight: No knight, sirs, of England, nor captain you see, But a poor simple maiden called Mary Ambree."

"But art thou a woman, as thou dost declare, Whose valour hath proved so undaunted in war? If England doth yield such brave maidens as thee, Full well may they conquer, fair Mary Ambree."

The Prince of Great Parma heard of her renown, Who long had advanced for England's fair crown; He wooed her and sued her his mistress to be, And offered rich presents to Mary Ambree.

But this virtuous maiden despisèd them all:
"I'll ne'er sell my honour for purple nor pall;
A maiden of England, sir, never will be
The wench of a monarch," quoth Mary Ambree.

Then to her own country she back did return,
Still holding the foes of fair England in scorn;
Therefore English captains of every degree
Sing forth the brave valours of Mary Ambree.
Anonymous.

THE ARMADA

1588 A.D.

Attend, all ye who list to hear our noble England's praise;

I tell of the thrice famous deeds she wrought in ancient days,

When the great fleet invincible against her bore in

vain,

The richest spoils of Mexico, the stoutest hearts of Spain.

It was about the lovely close of a warm summer day,

There came a gallant merchant-ship full sail to Plymouth Bay;

Her crew hath seen Castile's black fleet, beyond Aurigny's isle,

At earliest twilight, on the waves lie heaving many a mile.

At sunrise she escaped their van, by God's especial

grace;

And the tall Pinta, till the noon, had held her close in

chase.

Forthwith a guard at every gun was placed along the wall;

The beacon blazed upon the roof of Edgecumbe's lofty hall;

Many a light fishing-bark put out to pry along the

coast,

And with loose rein and bloody spur rode inland

many a post.

With his white hair unbonneted, the stout old sheriff

comes;

Behind him march the halberdiers; before him sound the drums;

His yeomen round the market cross make clear an ample space;

For there behoves him to set up the standard of Her

Grace.

And haughtily the trumpets peal, and gaily dance the

bells,

As slow upon the labouring wind the royal blazon

swells.

Look how the lion of the sea lifts up his ancient

crown,

[down.

And underneath his deadly paw treads the gay lilies So stalked he when he turned to flight, on that famed

Picard field,

Bohemia's plume, and Genoa's bow, and Cæsar's eagle shield.

So glared he when at Agincourt in wrath he turned

to bay,

And crushed and torn beneath his claws the princely

hunters lay.

THE ARMADA

Ho! strike the flagstaff deep, Sir Knight: ho! scatter flowers, fair maids:

Ho! gunners, fire a loud salute: ho! gallants, draw your blades:

Thou sun, shine on her joyously; ye breezes, waft her wide;

Our glorious SEMPER EADEM the banner of our pride.

The freshening breeze of eve unfurled that banner's massy fold;

The parting gleam of sunshine kissed that haughty scroll of gold;

Night sank upon the dusky beach, and on the purple

sea,

Such night in England ne'er had been, nor e'er again shall be.

From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Milford Bay,

That time of slumber was as bright and busy as the

day:

For swift to east and west the ghastly war-flame

spread,

High on St. Michael's Mount it shone; it shone on Beachy Head.

Far on the deep the Spaniard saw, along each southern shire,

Cape beyond cape, in endless range, those twinkling points of fire.

The fisher left his skiff to rock on Tamar's glittering

waves;

99

The rugged miners poured to war from Mendip's sunless caves!

O'er Longleat's towers, o'er Cranborne's oaks, the fiery herald flew :

He roused the shepherds of Stonehenge, the rangers of Beaulieu.

Right sharp and quick the bells all night rang out from Bristol town,

And ere the day three hundred horse had met on Clifton down;

The sentinel on Whitehall gate looked forth into the

night,

And saw o'erhanging Richmond Hill the streak of blood-red light.

Then bugle's note and cannon's roar the deathlike silence broke,

And with one start, and with one cry, the royal city

woke.

At once on all her stately gates arose the answering

fires;

At once the wild alarum clashed from all her reeling

spires;

From all the batteries of the Tower pealed loud the voice of fear;

And all the thousand masts of Thames sent back a louder cheer;

And from the furthest wards was heard the rush of hurrying feet,

And the broad stream of pikes and flags rushed down each roaring street;