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Sea Songs

By W. C. Bennett
 
 
 

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101

HERE'S TO VAN TROMP AND DE RUYTER

It's a land of ditch and dyke,
Of lake and dune;—what then?
Jeer at it as you like,
It breeds the first of men;
Its fields are low and flat,
Its waters dull and slow;
But, lads, what matters that?
What heroes it can grow!
Two fought us many a day
Whose fame still grows the brighter;
Glory to both, I say;
Here's Van Tromp and De Ruyter!

102

Their tongue was kin to ours;
Their blood almost the same;
We proved it in those hours
We both with pride can name;
What grand, stout souls they bore
Was better known to none
Than Blake and Monk who tore
Fame from them, gun to gun;
Of dread they shared our scorn;
Their fames can but grow brighter;
None braver e'er were born
Than Van Tromp and De Ruyter.
Freemen, they served the free;
Careless what might betide
Themselves, they rode the sea
With all our English pride;
Their flag unstained must fly;
Their land its sway must keep;
For that they swept to die
Or conquer on the deep;
They lost, but, losing, won
Renown that burns but brighter;
Second to-day to none
Are Van Tromp and De Ruyter.