On the broad Manila Bay
The Spanish cruisers lay,
In the shelter of their forts upon the shore;
And they dared their foes to sail
Through the crashing iron hail
Which the guns from decks and battlements would pour.
All the harbor ways were missed,
And along the channel blind
Slept the wild torpedoes, dreaming dreams of wrath.
Yea! the fiery hates of hell