With warre’s loud trumpe from all parts of the land,
I call’d my Britaines downe vnto the strand.
72.
Where our blacke barkes all readie furnish’t lay,
In which departing from the barren shore,
Wing’d with full gale, the ships did force their way,
So swiftly with their bending bulkes before,
That 'bout their brests the giuing waues did rore,
Through which we kept our course without mischance,
And did at Harflew safe arriue in France.