The rest flew north before the gale, to round the Scottish coast.
Ah! better had they yielded then, or waited for their time,
Till change of wind might speed their course back to their southern clime;
For, up beyond the Orkney Isles, a furious tempest roared,
And many a gallant ship was lost with every soul on board.
And, on the iron northern coast, vast hosts of valiant men
Were wrecked, or drowned, or butchered there, and never saw again
The southern sun, the orange groves, the smiling Spanish shore,
Which, full of pride and hope, they left but three short months before;
And only sixty ships came back, into Santander bay,