BARRY CORNWALL. THE STORMY PETREL. A THOUSAND miles from land are we The hull which all earthly strength disdains, Up and down! up and down! From the base of the wave to the billows' crown, A home,—if such a place can be For her who lives on the wide wide sea, To warn her young, and teach them to spring At once o'er the waves on their stormy wing! O'er the deep! o'er the deep! 181 Where the whale, and the shark, and the swordfish sleep! Outflying the blast and the driving rain, The petrel telleth her tale in vain : For the mariner curseth the warning bird, THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. THE SPANISH ARMADA. ATTEND all ye who list to hear our noble England's praise, I tell of the thrice-famous deeds she wrought in ancient days, When that great fleet invincible against her bore in vain The richest spoils of Mexico, the stoutest hearts of Spain. It was about the lovely close of a warm summer day, There came a gallant merchant-ship full sail to Plymouth Bay; Her crew hath seen Castile's black fleet, beyond Aurigny's isle, At earliest twilight, on the waves lie heaving many a mile: At sunrise she escap'd their van, by God's especial grace; And the tall Pinta, till the noon, had held her close in chase. Forthwith a guard at every gun was plac'd along the wall; The beacon blaz'd upon the roof of Edgecumbe's lofty hall; Many a light fishing-bark put out to pry along the coast; And with loose rein and bloody spur rode inland many a post. While, his white hair unbonneted, the stout old sheriff comes; Behind him march the halberdiers, before him sound the drums; His yeomen, round the market-cross, make clear an ample space, For there behoves him to set up the standard of her Grace; And haughtily the trumpets peal, and gaily dance the bells, As slow upon the labouring wind the royal blazon swells. Look how the lion of the sea lifts up his ancient crown, THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. 133 And underneath his deadly paw treads the gay lilies down. So stalk'd he when he turn'd to fight, on that fam'd Picard field, Bohemia's plume, Genoa's bow, and Cæsar's eagle shield: So glar'd he when at Agincourt in wrath he turn'd to bay, And crush'd and torn beneath his claws the princely hunter lay. Ho! strike the flag-staff deep, sir knight: ho! scatter flowers, fair maids: Ho! gunners, blades: fire a loud salute: ho! gallants, draw your Thou sun, shine on her joyously-ye breezes, waft her wide; Our glorious Semper Eadem-the banner of our pride. The freshening breeze of eve unfurl'd that banner's massy fold, The parting gleam of sunshine kiss'd that haughty scroll of gold; Night sank upon that dusky beach, and on the purple seaSuch night in England ne'er had been, nor e'er again shall be. From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Milford Bay, That time of slumber was as bright and busy as the day; For swift to east and swift to west the warning radiance spread : High on Saint Michael's Mount it shone-it shone on Beachy Head. Far on the deep the Spaniards saw, along each southern shire, Cape beyond cape, in endless range, those twinkling points of fire; 134 THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. The fisher left his skiff to rock on Tamar's glittering waves, The rugged miners pour'd to war from Mendip's sunless caves. O'er Longleat's towers, o'er Cranbourn's oaks, the fiery herald flew, He rous'd the shepherds of Stonehenge, the rangers of Beaulieu. Right sharp and quick the bells all night rang out from Bristol town, And ere the day three hundred horse had met on Clifton Down; The sentinel on Whitehall Gate look'd forth into the night, And saw o'erhanging Richmond Hill the streak of bloodshed light; Then bugle's note and cannon's roar the death-like silence broke, And with one start, and with one cry, the royal city woke: At once on all her stately gates arose the answering fires; At once the wild alarum clash'd from all her reeling spires; From all the batteries of the Tower peal'd loud the voice of fear; And all the thousand masts of Thames sent back a louder cheer: And from the farthest wards was heard the rush of hurrying feet, And the broad streams of flags and pikes dash'd down each roaring street: And broader still became the blaze, and louder still the din, As fast from every village round the horse came spurring in; And eastward straight, from wild Blackheath, the warlike errand went, THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. 135 And rous'd in many an ancient hall the gallant squires of Kent. Southward from Surrey's pleasant hills flew those bright couriers forth; High on bleak Hampstead's swarthy moor they started for the north; And on, and on, without a pause, untir'd they bounded still; All night from tower to tower they sprang; they sprang from hill to hill: Till the proud Peak unfurl'd the flag o'er Darwin's rocky dales Till like volcanoes flar'd to heaven the stormy hills of Wales Till twelve fair counties saw the blaze on Malvern's lovely height Till stream'd in crimson on the wind the Wrekin's crest of light Till broad and fierce the star came forth on Ely's stately fane, And tower and hamlet rose in arms o'er all the boundless plain Till Belvoir's lordly terraces the sign to Lincoln sent, Till Skiddaw saw the fire that burn'd on Gaunt's embattled pile, And the red glare of Skiddaw rous'd the burghers of Carlisle. |