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7
A BALLAD OF THE GREAT ARMADA.
Three hundred years ago! three hundred years ago!
The Spaniard sailed the seas to work us ill and woe;
Three hundred years ago we fought the fleet of fame
That sailed from Tagus mouth to do us hurt and shame
We fought them unfeared three hundred years ago—
And Thou, O Lord, didst loose Thy winds and bid them blow:
Shattered and torn was Spain; O Giver of Victory,
Because of Thy great Salvation we lift our hearts to Thee.
The Spaniard sailed the seas to work us ill and woe;
Three hundred years ago we fought the fleet of fame
That sailed from Tagus mouth to do us hurt and shame
We fought them unfeared three hundred years ago—
And Thou, O Lord, didst loose Thy winds and bid them blow:
Shattered and torn was Spain; O Giver of Victory,
Because of Thy great Salvation we lift our hearts to Thee.
There were thirty thousand men that sailed that year from Spain;
There were twenty thousand men that never went home again;
And of those who breathed once more beneath their native sky,
There was many and many a one who only came to die.
There were twenty thousand men that never went home again;
And of those who breathed once more beneath their native sky,
There was many and many a one who only came to die.
The flower of Spain was there, the strong, the young, the brave,
Her glory and boast—so soon to lie beneath the wave:
And some of our kin were among them, who broke in God's own name
Their faith to their land and Queen, and sought to do us shame.
Her glory and boast—so soon to lie beneath the wave:
And some of our kin were among them, who broke in God's own name
Their faith to their land and Queen, and sought to do us shame.
8
The peasants who cared no whit to fight or win, they took
By force from their wives and homes, and the plow and the pruning hook,
And kept them in guarded gangs lest any the host forsook.
And many a slave was among them—Jew, Algerine, and Turk,
To row the galleys along—ill doom and ill the work.
By force from their wives and homes, and the plow and the pruning hook,
And kept them in guarded gangs lest any the host forsook.
And many a slave was among them—Jew, Algerine, and Turk,
To row the galleys along—ill doom and ill the work.
But never a man with us, except whose heart beat high
To guard his fatherland and, if so were need, to die.
Quoth a Spaniard, “This English folk is free, and hath aye been free,
And the freedom-owning folk, it doeth courageously.”
To guard his fatherland and, if so were need, to die.
Quoth a Spaniard, “This English folk is free, and hath aye been free,
And the freedom-owning folk, it doeth courageously.”
Or ever they sighted our coast a taste of their bitter chance
Befell them when galleys four they lost on the coast of France;
But on and on they came, and gallantly rode the sea,
And at dawn on a morn of July the Lizard was under their lee.
Up flashed the beacons to tell the news throughout the land,
And village and town were alert, and ready in heart and hand:
'Twas the twentieth day of July in the early afternoon
We saw the enemy's fleet, in shape like a crescent moon.
Befell them when galleys four they lost on the coast of France;
But on and on they came, and gallantly rode the sea,
And at dawn on a morn of July the Lizard was under their lee.
Up flashed the beacons to tell the news throughout the land,
And village and town were alert, and ready in heart and hand:
'Twas the twentieth day of July in the early afternoon
We saw the enemy's fleet, in shape like a crescent moon.
It was well to see the foe we had skirmished with so long
It seemed there would be no end to the bitter wrath and wrong.
Now grapple, might and main, let petty conflicts cease,
Unfurl the standard of war, nor fight 'neath the flag of peace!
It seemed there would be no end to the bitter wrath and wrong.
Now grapple, might and main, let petty conflicts cease,
Unfurl the standard of war, nor fight 'neath the flag of peace!
9
Eight years was the land a-preparing before her trial-day,
And Hawkins had dressed her fleet that floated in Plymouth Bay,
“In royal and perfect estate;” the ships ne'er felt the sea,
For Hawkins had done the work, and done it perfectly.
Oh, never a parted rope, and never a spar with a sprain,
Good brain and hand were his, and ours were that hand and brain.
And Hawkins had dressed her fleet that floated in Plymouth Bay,
“In royal and perfect estate;” the ships ne'er felt the sea,
For Hawkins had done the work, and done it perfectly.
Oh, never a parted rope, and never a spar with a sprain,
Good brain and hand were his, and ours were that hand and brain.
All praise to the daring heart, to the gallant arm of might,
To the quenchless fire of zeal that burns through the desperate fight;
And praise to the wisdom fair, the patience long and true,
That waiteth unchanged and strong till the time be ripe to do—
Charles Howard of Effingham, hail! We greet them both in you.
To the quenchless fire of zeal that burns through the desperate fight;
And praise to the wisdom fair, the patience long and true,
That waiteth unchanged and strong till the time be ripe to do—
Charles Howard of Effingham, hail! We greet them both in you.
We name not name by name in the bead-roll long to tell
Of the gallant ones and great whom England loveth well,
Of those who nobly fought, and those who nobly fell.
O men who fought that fight, and fought it gallantly,
It was good to be English then, and best to be West Country!
Of the gallant ones and great whom England loveth well,
Of those who nobly fought, and those who nobly fell.
O men who fought that fight, and fought it gallantly,
It was good to be English then, and best to be West Country!
All through a long forenoon the little English ships
Came hovering round the Spaniard—each one, as a bird that dips
A moment, then flies away and leaves no trace behind—
Dashed close to the galleons huge, and shot off in the eye of the wind.
Came hovering round the Spaniard—each one, as a bird that dips
A moment, then flies away and leaves no trace behind—
Dashed close to the galleons huge, and shot off in the eye of the wind.
10
All through that long forenoon the foe essayed to close,
Full fain “in the fashion of such as will sell their lives with blows.”
Down came the even-dusk, up rushed the rolling brine,
And Valdez' Captain fouled the good Saint Catherine:
And at morn, when Drake came up, she struck her flag, indeed,
And her powder loaded our guns, and her reals helped our need.
Full fain “in the fashion of such as will sell their lives with blows.”
Down came the even-dusk, up rushed the rolling brine,
And Valdez' Captain fouled the good Saint Catherine:
And at morn, when Drake came up, she struck her flag, indeed,
And her powder loaded our guns, and her reals helped our need.
Oh, the Spaniard fought and fought, but how could the day be won
In the teeth of our mad little ships, and the wind going round with the sun?
Then the one-week summer went, and all the wild winds' host
Leapt loose from the hand of the Lord to guard the English coast.
In the teeth of our mad little ships, and the wind going round with the sun?
Then the one-week summer went, and all the wild winds' host
Leapt loose from the hand of the Lord to guard the English coast.
O God of freedom, we bless Thee, for Thou didst make us free;
O God of battles, Thou gavest our hands the victory;
O God of might, we kneel at Thy feet, and, kneeling, say,
To Thee be the glory and praise, Non nobis, Domine!
O God of battles, Thou gavest our hands the victory;
O God of might, we kneel at Thy feet, and, kneeling, say,
To Thee be the glory and praise, Non nobis, Domine!
It is better to fight than to win; it is better to strive than to gain;
It is better to do the right than to save from death or chain;
But we fought and we won that day, and we conquered bonds and Spain.
We harassed them flank and van with those swift little ships of ours,
Darting like birds in and out, among their moving towers;
And at last we drove them out of the Channel in the night,
For we sent our fire ships down, a scare of flame and light;
And they set their faces to flee right up through the Narrow Seas—
Quoth Drake, “By the help of God, we will wrestle a pull with these.”
And northward they fled and fled, before the southerly wind,
With English Howard and Drake, and their ninety sail behind.
It is better to do the right than to save from death or chain;
But we fought and we won that day, and we conquered bonds and Spain.
11
Darting like birds in and out, among their moving towers;
And at last we drove them out of the Channel in the night,
For we sent our fire ships down, a scare of flame and light;
And they set their faces to flee right up through the Narrow Seas—
Quoth Drake, “By the help of God, we will wrestle a pull with these.”
And northward they fled and fled, before the southerly wind,
With English Howard and Drake, and their ninety sail behind.
They dared not face the terrible English ships again,
And they sailed away and away, by the north and the west for Spain;
And the wild wind shrieked in triumph to work the Spaniard woe,
And the dreadful North Sea waters wrought ravage upon the foe.
And they sailed away and away, by the north and the west for Spain;
And the wild wind shrieked in triumph to work the Spaniard woe,
And the dreadful North Sea waters wrought ravage upon the foe.
They struck on the Irish coast, where the rock-wall rises sheer;
And Burke, “the Devil's hook,” he robbed and slew them there;
And some were caught and bound, and led through the strange country,
To die the death of shame upon the gallows-tree.
The Rata—that goodly ship, with the bud and promise of Spain—
“Where is the Rata?” ye ask. Look over the seething main.
“Where is Alonzo da Leyva?” Alas! thine eyes, Castille,
Must weep their bitterest tears; thy sons, the young and leal,
The flower of thy proudest blood, the best of thy faith and boast,
Lie low with Alonzo de Leyva upon the Irish coast,
Where twice they were wrecked and saved, and thrice they were wrecked and lost.
And Burke, “the Devil's hook,” he robbed and slew them there;
And some were caught and bound, and led through the strange country,
To die the death of shame upon the gallows-tree.
The Rata—that goodly ship, with the bud and promise of Spain—
“Where is the Rata?” ye ask. Look over the seething main.
“Where is Alonzo da Leyva?” Alas! thine eyes, Castille,
Must weep their bitterest tears; thy sons, the young and leal,
The flower of thy proudest blood, the best of thy faith and boast,
Lie low with Alonzo de Leyva upon the Irish coast,
Where twice they were wrecked and saved, and thrice they were wrecked and lost.
12
And the trouble was o'er, and the land was out of her fear at last,
And she drew her mighty breath as one whose peril is past;
And she knelt to her God and she blest Him and praised Him, her Buckler and Shield;
And she smiled on the sons of her love; and, far over woodland and field,
The shout of her gladness went up, and the hymns of her triumph were pealed.
Oh, blithe were the hearts of her sons, and free was the hearth and her sward;
They had fought for their land and had saved her, and that was their meed and reward:
Full strong in the strength of her life-blood which beat in their every vein,
They had girt her around with their manhood, and kept her from slavedom and Spain:
They had fought for their God-given birthright, their country to have and to hold,
And not for the lust of conquest, and not for the hunger of gold.
And she drew her mighty breath as one whose peril is past;
And she knelt to her God and she blest Him and praised Him, her Buckler and Shield;
And she smiled on the sons of her love; and, far over woodland and field,
The shout of her gladness went up, and the hymns of her triumph were pealed.
Oh, blithe were the hearts of her sons, and free was the hearth and her sward;
They had fought for their land and had saved her, and that was their meed and reward:
Full strong in the strength of her life-blood which beat in their every vein,
They had girt her around with their manhood, and kept her from slavedom and Spain:
They had fought for their God-given birthright, their country to have and to hold,
And not for the lust of conquest, and not for the hunger of gold.
O England, mother of might, O queen of the kingly sea,
The strong and good are thy sons, freeborn and ever free.
Lord Christ, if the hour of need come ever, as then, to her
And tumult be all around of tempest and fear and stir,
We ask no better boon than hearts to beat and glow
Like the hearts of Englishmen three hundred years ago.
The strong and good are thy sons, freeborn and ever free.
Lord Christ, if the hour of need come ever, as then, to her
And tumult be all around of tempest and fear and stir,
We ask no better boon than hearts to beat and glow
Like the hearts of Englishmen three hundred years ago.
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