Collected Poems 1897 - 1907 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 50 pages of information about Collected Poems 1897.

Title:  Collected Poems 1897 — 1907

Author:  Henry Newbolt

Release Date:  October 31, 2004 [EBook #13900]

Language:  English

Character set encoding:  ASCII

*** Start of this project gutenberg EBOOK collected poems 1897 — 1907 ***

Processed by Tom Harris.  In memory of my mother, Elizabeth Harris, who loved poetry, and scanned from her own copy of the book.

Collected Poems 1897 — 1907 by Henry Newbolt

To Thomas Hardy

Drake’s Drum

Drake he’s in his hammock an’ a thousand miles away,
  (Capten, art tha sleepin’ there below?)
Slung atween the round shot in Nombre Dios Bay,
  An’ dreamin’ arl the time O’ Plymouth Hoe. 
Yarnder lumes the Island, yarnder lie the ships,
  Wi’ sailor lads a-dancing’ heel-an’-toe,
An’ the shore-lights flashin’, an’ the night-tide dashin’,
  He sees et arl so plainly as he saw et long ago.

Drake he was a Devon man, an’ ruled the Devon seas,
  (Capten, art tha’ sleepin’ there below?)
Roving’ tho’ his death fell, he went wi’ heart at ease,
  An’ dreamin’ arl the time o’ Plymouth Hoe. 
“Take my drum to England, hang et by the shore,
  Strike et when your powder’s runnin’ low;
If the Dons sight Devon, I’ll quit the port o’ Heaven,
  An’ drum them up the Channel as we drummed them long ago.”

Drake he’s in his hammock till the great Armadas come,
  (Capten, art tha sleepin’ there below?)
Slung atween the round shot, listenin’ for the drum,
  An’ dreamin arl the time o’ Plymouth Hoe. 
Call him on the deep sea, call him up the Sound,
  Call him when ye sail to meet the foe;
Where the old trade’s plyin’ an’ the old flag flyin’
  They shall find him ware an’ wakin’, as they found him long ago!

The Fighting Temeraire

It was eight bells ringing,
  For the morning watch was done,
And the gunner’s lads were singing
  As they polished every gun. 
It was eight bells ringing,
And the gunner’s lads were singing,
For the ship she rode a-swinging,
  As they polished every gun.

    Oh! to see the linstock lighting,
      Temeraire!  Temeraire! 
    Oh! to hear the round shot biting,
      Temeraire!  Temeraire!

    Oh! to see the linstock lighting,
      And to hear the round shot biting,
    For we’re all in love with fighting
      On the fighting Temeraire.

It was noontide ringing,
  And the battle just begun,
When the ship her way was winging,
  As they loaded every gun. 
It was noontide ringing,
When the ship her way was winging,
And the gunner’s lads were singing
  As they loaded every gun.

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Project Gutenberg
Collected Poems 1897 - 1907 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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