Where the thunders boom and the lightnings play
In the wrack of the battle-glow.
They swore by Drake and Plymouth Bay,
The men of the Good Hope's crew,
By the bones that lay in fierce Biscay,
And they swore by Cradock, too—
That every night, ere the dawn flamed red,
For each man there should be twain
Upon the ships that make their bed
Where England rules the Main.