Sir Christopher Cradock.
By JOHN E. DOLSON.
Through the fog of the fight we could dimly see,
As ever the flame from the big guns flashed,
That Cradock was doomed, yet his men and he,
With their plates shot to junk, and their turrets smashed,
Their ship heeled over, her funnels gone,
Were fearlessly, doggedly fighting on.
Out-speeded, out-metaled, out-ranged, out-shot
By heavier guns, they were not out-fought.