Of the poor Theresa there, on the beach,
And the Almirante Oquendo, each
Wrecked and ablaze,” he said,
“We saw on the seaward side,
All alone in the waters wide,
Rising and falling, the round black head
Of a Spanish sailor as good as dead,
Fighting death in the sea.
“Strange it seemed when the strife
Shrank to a single man,