Poems by Jean Ingelow, In Two Volumes, Volume II. | Page 5

and read it wrong,?While after the running fight we rode at ease,?For many (as is the way of Englishmen)?Having made light of our stout deeds, and light?O' the effects proceeding, saw these spread?To view. The Spanish Admiral's mighty host,?Albeit not broken, harass'd.
Some did tow?Others that we had plagued, disabled, rent;?Many full heavily damaged made their berths.
Then did the English anchor out of range.?To close was not their wisdom with such foe,?Rather to chase him, following in the rear.?Ay, truly they were giants in our eyes?And in our own. They took scant heed of us,?And we looked on, and knew not what to think,?Only that we were lost men, a lost Isle,?In every Spaniard's mind, both great and small.
But no such thought had place in Howard's soul,?And when 't was dark, and all their sails were furled,?When the wind veered a few points to the west,?And the tide turned ruffling along the roads,?He sent eight fireships forging down to them.
Terrible! Terrible!
Blood-red pillars of reek?They looked on that vast host and troubled it,?As on th' Egyptian host One looked of old.
Then all the heavens were rent with a great cry,?The red avengers went right on, right on,?For none could let them; then was ruin, reek, flame;?Against th' unwieldy huge leviathans?They drave, they fell upon them as wild beasts,?And all together they did plunge and grind,?Their reefed sails set a-blazing, these flew loose?And forth like banners of destruction sped.?It was to look on as the body of hell?Seething; and some, their cables cut, ran foul?Of one the other, while the ruddy fire?Sped on aloft. One ship was stranded. One?Foundered, and went down burning; all the sea?Red as an angry sunset was made fell?With smoke and blazing spars that rode upright,?For as the fireships burst they scattered forth?Full dangerous wreckage. All the sky they scored?With flying sails and rocking masts, and yards?Licked of long flames. And flitting tinder sank?In eddies on the plagued mixed mob of ships?That cared no more for harbour, and were fain?At any hazard to be forth, and leave?Their berths in the blood-red haze.
It was at twelve?O' the clock when this fell out, for as the eight?Were towed, and left upon the friendly tide?To stalk like evil angels over the deep?And stare upon the Spaniards, we did hear?Their midnight bells. It was at morning dawn?After our mariners thus had harried them?I looked my last upon their fleet,--and all,?That night had cut their cables, put to sea,?And scattering wide towards the Flemish coast?Did seem to make for Greveline.
As for us,?The captains told us off to wait on them,?Bearers of wounded enemies and friends,?Bearers of messages, bearers of store.
We saw not ought, but heard enough: we heard?(And God be thanked) of that long scattering chase?And driving of Sidonia from his hope,?Parma, who could not ought without his ships?And looked for them to break the Dutch blockade,?He meanwhile chafing lion-like in his lair.?We heard--and he--for all one summer day,?Fenning and Drake and Raynor, Fenton, Cross,?And more, by Greveline, where they once again?Did get the wind o' the Spaniards, noise of guns.?For coming with the wind, wielding themselves?Which way they listed (while in close array?The Spaniards stood but on defence), our own?Went at them, charged them high and charged them sore,?And gave them broadside after broadside. Ay,?Till all the shot was spent both great and small.?It failed; and in regard of that same want?They thought it not convenient to pursue?Their vessels farther.
They were huge withal,?And might not be encountered one to one,?But close conjoined they fought, and poured great store?Of ordnance at our ships, though many of theirs,?Shot thorow and thorow, scarce might keep afloat.
Many were captured fighting, many sank.?This news they brought returned perforce, and left?The Spaniards forging north. Themselves did watch?The river mouth, till Howard, his new store?Gathered, encounter coveting, once more?Made after them with Drake.
And lo! the wind?Got up to help us. He yet flying north?(Their doughty Admiral) made all his wake?To smoke, and would not end to fight, but strewed?The ocean with his wreckage. And the wind?Drave him before it, and the storm was fell,?And he went up to th' uncouth northern sea.?There did our mariners leave him. Then did joy?Run like a sunbeam over the land, and joy?Rule in the stout heart of a regnant Queen.
But now the counsel came, 'Every man home,?For after Scotland rounded, when he curves?Southward, and all the batter'd armament,?What hinders on our undefended coast?To land where'er he listeth? Every man?Home.'
And we mounted and did open forth?Like a great fan, to east, to north, to west,?And rumour met us flying, filtering?Down through the border. News of wicked joy,?The wreckers rich in the Faroes, and the Isles?Orkney, and all the clansmen full of gear?Gathered from helpless mariners tempted in?To their undoing; while a treacherous crew?Let the storm work upon their lives its will,?Spoiled them and gathered all