Would you hear of the River-Fight?
It was two of a soft spring night;—
God’s stars looked down on all,
And all was clear and bright
But the low fog’s chilling breath—
Up the River of Death
Sailed the Great Admiral.
On our high poop-deck he stood,
And round him ranged the men
Who have made their birthright good...
“now for a brisk and cheerful fight!”
Said Harman, big and droll,
As he coaxed his flint and steel for a light,
And puffed at his cold clay bowl;
“For we are a skulking lot,” says he,
“Of land-thieves hereabout,
And these bold señores, two to one,
Have come to smoke us out.”
Santa Anna and Castillon,
Almonte...
That night I think that no one slept;
No bells were struck, no whistle blew,
And when the watch was changed I crept
From man to man of all the crew
With whispered orders. Though we swept
Through roaring seas, we hushed the clock,
And muffled every clanking block.
So when one fool, unheeding, cried
Some petty order,...
[The author of this poem, one of the victims of the persecuting Henry VIII., was burnt to death at Smithfield in 1546. It was made and sung by her while a prisoner in Newgate.]
LIKE as the armèd Knighte,
Appointed to the fielde,
With this world wil I fight,
And faith shal be my shilde.
Faith is that weapon stronge,
Which wil not faile at...
TELL the story to your sons
Of the gallant days of yore,
When the brig of seven guns
Fought the fleet of seven score,
From the set of sun till morn, through the long September night—
Ninety men against two thousand, and the ninety won the fight
In the harbor of Fayal the Azore.
Three...
To fight aloud is very brave,
But gallanter, I know,
Who charge within the bosom,
The cavalry of woe.
Who win, and nations do not see,
Who fall, and none observe,
Whose dying eyes no country
Regards with...
