And in the night, off Dunkirk coast, a fearful fight began;
At close of day uprose the tide, uprose a gale of wind,
And, on its wings, eight fire-ships flew the Spanish fleet behind;
With sulphur and with rosin filled, their hulls were all aflame.
And right upon the foemen’s ships, the fiery terror came;
The Spaniards then their anchors weighed, and some their cables threw,
In aimless course before the wind the ponderous galleons flew.
The morrow morn the English took full many a splendid prize,
While some, hard hit, by shot and shell, went down before eyes.
Some foul of one another fell, in Flemish shallows lost;