God! how they sprang! And how they tore!
The Grenvilles, Hawkins, Drake!
Remember, boy, they were your sires!
They made the Spaniard quake.
They sprang, like lions, for their prey,
Straight for the throat, amain!
By twos, by scores, where'er they caught
They fought the ships of Spain.
When Spain, in dark Ulloa's bay,
Broke doubly-plighted faith,
Bold Hawkins fought his way through fire
For great Elizabeth.
A bitter malt Spain brewed that day—
She drained it to the lees;
Her faithless guns that morn awoke
The Dragon of the Seas.
From sea to sea he ravaged far,
A scourge with flaming breath—
Where'er the Spaniard sailed his ships
Sailed Francis Drake and Death.
No port was safe against his ire,
Secure no furthest shore;
The fairest day oft sank in fire
Before the Dragon's roar.
He made th' Atlantic surges red
Round every Spanish keel;
Piled Spanish decks with Spanish dead,
The noblest of Castile.
From Del Fuego's beetling coast
To sleety Hebrides,
He hounded down the Spanish host,
And swept the flaming seas.
He fought till on Spain's inmost lakes
'Mid orange bowers set,
La Mancha's daughters feared to sail
Lest they the Dragon met.
King Philip, of his raven reft,
As forfeit claimed his head.
The great Queen laughed his wrath to scorn,
And knighted Drake instead.