« ZurückWeiter »
SIR RICHARD GRENVILLE'S LAST
Great is the joy in Plymouth Sound,
To sail the Spanish Main;
The treasure fleet of Spain.
With twelve tall ships equipped for fight,
Of English heart and hand,
On water and on land.
Brave Devon lads from Tamar's side,
Beside old Roman graves ;
Upon the dancing waves.
And Cornish seamen rude and bold,
Breaks the Atlantic swell;
Where it is said in caverns hoar,
As ancient legends tell.
.In vain we searched the ocean round,
But sore with sickness wasted ;
We lay in wait and rested.
Vigilant both by night and day,
We longed and watched and waited,
With gold and silver freighted.
But in the crimson dawning
We heard the look-out's hail ;
every ship was hailed
Eleven ships sailed sullenly.
We weighed anchor and sailed forth
With the great fleet of the foe
To intercept and capture the lone one of the North.
For through the offing, one by one,
We saw the flash of steel;
Of Leon and Castile.
“Cut the mainsail, Sir Richard,
And give the Dons the slip,
The sailing of thy ship."
Sir Richard laughed with courage stout,
When they can turn me back;
Right in our homeward track."
And so ran on our bit of right sound English stuff, And the foremost of the squadron when they met us sprang their luff
And fell beneath our lee, Till the huge high-carged San Philip, Of full fifteen hundred tons, Took the wind out of our sails and o'erhung us with his guns, And we swung round for battle to win our right of way.
From the giant oaken hulk,
Came a joyous Spanish cry.
And our broadsides made reply; Through the hull the great shot tore, And above the cannon-roar
Rose our English battle-cry,
“Fight this day, ye men of Devon, For England, Queen and Heaven ! ”
Afar its echoes pealed, And ere it died our bolts again Crashed through the wooden walls of Spain, And with the shock upon the main
The vessels rocked and reeled.
Then they closed on every side
And fierce their war-cry rung,
And o'er the bulwarks hung.
The smoke rose slowly on the blast,
We strove the ship to clear;
Lay scattered everywhere.
We toiled and strove with desperate strength A short but dreadful time, at length
We eased the ship again,
Then to the fight with fiercer ire,
Into the fleet of Spain.
shot. And the roar and rage of battle waxed grim, and fierce, and hot;
No time for war-cries now;
We hurled into the sea whole regiments of our foes.
Then we gave a mighty cheer in our honest English pride,
And the welkin rang again
With the wail and curse of Spain,
All through the summer afternoon
Yet still we held our own;
Into the sea went down.
The stars came out on such As they had ne'er beheld, I ween, în all the battles that have been
On ocean or on shore,