II.
But all the first month of our cruise
We saw never a thing
From the shrouds, save hundreds and hundreds
Of gulls on the wing;
And in the next dolorous month, we’d a tempest to fight,
And had to be bailing out water by day and by night.
III.
By the third, we were driven to madness
At meeting no foe
For our thundering cannon to sweep
From the ocean. When lo!
“Hands aloft!” Captain cried. At the maintop one heard the command,
And the long Arab coast on the lee-bow intently he scanned.
IV.
Till, “God’s thunder!” he cried. “Three big vessels
Bear down on us strong;
Run the guns to the ports! Blaze away!”
Shouted Bailly Suffren.
“Sharp’s the word, gallant lads! Our figs of Antibes they shall test,
And see how they like those,” Captain said, “ere we offer the rest!”
V.
A crash fit to deafen! Before
The words left his lips
We had sent forty balls through the hulls
Of the Englishers’ ships!
One was done for already. And now the guns only heard we,
The cracking of wood and perpetual groan of the sea.