Chapter 1

Chapter 13,268 wordsPublic domain

Produced by Al Haines

[Transcriber's note: Page numbers in this book are indicated by numbers enclosed in curly braces, e.g. {99}. They have been located where page breaks occurred in the original book, in accordance with Project Gutenberg's FAQ-V-99.]

POEMS: NEW AND OLD

BY HENRY NEWBOLT

LONDON

JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.

1912

ADMIRAL SIR REGINALD CUSTANCE

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

This volume forms a complete collection of all my published work in verse from 1897 to 1912. It includes the contents of four previous volumes: _Admirals All_ (1897), _The Island Race_ (1898), _The Sailing of the Long-Ships_ (1902), and _Songs of Memory and Hope_ (1909), together with a number of pieces added to the later editions of the first two of these, and ten poems which have not hitherto appeared in book form--namely, _Sailing at Dawn, The Song of the Sou' Wester, The Middle Watch, The Little Admiral, The Song of the Guns at Sea, Farewell, Mors Janua, Gold, The Faun_, and _Rilloby-Rill_.

The volumes above mentioned were dedicated respectively to ANDREW LANG, to ROBERT BRIDGES, to SIR EDWARD GREY, and to LAURENCE BINYON; and I delight to repeat these names once more, in a volume which commemorates also the inspiration of a later friendship.

H. N.

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CONTENTS

PAGE

SONGS OF THE FLEET: I. SAILING AT DAWN . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 II. THE SONG OF THE SOU' WESTER . . . . . . . 3 III. THE MIDDLE WATCH . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 IV. THE LITTLE ADMIRAL . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 V. THE SONG OF THE GUNS AT SEA . . . . . . . 9 VI. FAREWELL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 ODE FOR TRAFALGAR DAY, 1905 . . . . . . . . . . 12 THE HUNDREDTH YEAR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 DRAKE'S DRUM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 THE FIGHTING TÉMÉRAIRE . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18 ADMIRALS ALL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20 SAN STEFANO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 HAWKE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26 THE BRIGHT "MEDUSA" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28 THE OLD "SUPERB" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 THE QUARTER-GUNNER'S YARN . . . . . . . . . . . 32 NORTHUMBERLAND . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35 FOR A TRAFALGAR CENOTAPH . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 CRAVEN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38 MESSMATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40 THE DEATH OF ADMIRAL BLAKE . . . . . . . . . . . 42

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VAE VICTIS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45 MINORA SIDERA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48 LAUDABUNT ALII . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 ADMIRAL DEATH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 HOMEWARD BOUND . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54 GILLESPIE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55 SERINGAPATAM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58 A BALLAD OF JOHN NICHOLSON . . . . . . . . . . . 61 THE GUIDES AT CABUL, 1879 . . . . . . . . . . . 65 THE GAY GORDONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67 HE FELL AMONG THIEVES . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69 IONICUS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72 THE NON-COMBATANT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74 SACRAMENTUM SUPREMUM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75 CLIFTON CHAPEL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76 VITAÏ LAMPADA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78 THE VIGIL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80 THE SAILING OF THE LONG-SHIPS . . . . . . . . . 82 WAGGON HILL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84 THE VOLUNTEER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86 THE ONLY SON . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87 THE GRENADIER'S GOOD-BYE . . . . . . . . . . . . 88 THE SCHOOLFELLOW . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89 ON SPION KOP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90 THE SCHOOL AT WAR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91 BY THE HEARTH-STONE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93 PEACE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94 APRIL ON WAGGON HILL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95 COMMEMORATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97

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THE ECHO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99 THE BEST SCHOOL OF ALL . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101 ENGLAND . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103 VICTORIA REGINA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104 THE KING OF ENGLAND . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105 THE NILE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107 SRÁHMANDÁZI . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110 OUTWARD BOUND . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113 HOPE THE HORNBLOWER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114 O PULCHRITUDO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116 THE FINAL MYSTERY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117 IL SANTO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121 IN JULY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122 FROM GENERATION TO GENERATION . . . . . . . . . 123 WHEN I REMEMBER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124 MORS JANUA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125 RONDEL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126 RONDEL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 127 BALADE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 128 THE LAST WORD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131 THE VIKING'S SONG . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132 THE SUFI IN THE CITY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 134 TO EDWARD FITZGERALD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135 YATTENDON . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136 DEVON . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137 AMONG THE TOMBS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138 GOLD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139 A SOWER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140 THE MOSSROSE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141

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AVE, SOROR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143 TO A RIVER IN THE SOUTH . . . . . . . . . . . . 144 ON THE DEATH OF A NOBLE LADY . . . . . . . . . . 145 MIDWAY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146 AD MATREM DOLOROSAM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147 VRAIS AMANTS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148 THE SANGREAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149 SIR HUGH THE PALMER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150 THE PRESENTATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153 THE INHERITANCE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 154 AMORE ALTIERO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156 THE PEDLAR'S SONG . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158 BENEDICK'S SONG . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159 LOVE AND GRIEF . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 160 EGERIA'S SILENCE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161 AGAINST OBLIVION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 162 FOND COUNSEL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163 YOUTH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164 THE WANDERER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 165 THE ADVENTURERS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 166 TO CLARE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 168 THE RETURN OF SUMMER: AN ECLOGUE . . . . . . . . 169 DREAM-MARKET . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 173 THE CICALAS: AN IDYLL . . . . . . . . . . . . . 180 THE FAUN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186 FIDELE'S GRASSY TOMB . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 189 MOONSET . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 192 A SONG OF EXMOOR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 194 MASTER AND MAN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 196

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GAVOTTE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 198 IMOGEN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199 NEL MEZZO DEL CAMMÌN . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201 THE INVASION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202 RILLOBY-RILL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 204 PEREUNT ET IMPUTANTUR . . . . . . . . . . . . 206 FELIX ANTONIUS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208 IRELAND, IRELAND . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 209 HYMN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 210 THE BUILDING OF THE TEMPLE . . . . . . . . . . 212 EPISTLE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 216 AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM . . . . . . . . . . . . 220 LE BYRON DE NOS JOURS . . . . . . . . . . . . 225 NOTES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231

O strength divine of Roman days, O spirit of the age of faith, Go with our sons on all their ways, When we long since are dust and wraith.

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POEMS: NEW AND OLD

_Songs of the Fleet_

_Sailing at Dawn_

One by one the pale stars die before the day now, One by one the great ships are stirring from their sleep, Cables all are rumbling, anchors all a-weigh now, Now the fleet's a fleet again, gliding towards the deep.

_Now the fleet's a fleet again, bound upon the old ways, Splendour of the past comes shining in the spray; Admirals of old time, bring us on the bold ways! Souls of all the sea-dogs, lead the line to-day!_

Far away behind us town and tower are dwindling, Home becomes a fair dream faded long ago; Infinitely glorious the height of heaven is kindling, Infinitely desolate the shoreless sea below.

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Once again with proud hearts we make the old surrender, Once again with high hearts serve the age to be, Not for us the warm life of Earth, secure and tender, Ours the eternal wandering and warfare of the sea.

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_The Song of the Sou' Wester_

The sun was lost in a leaden sky, And the shore lay under our lee; When a great Sou' Wester hurricane high Came rollicking up the sea. He played with the fleet as a boy with boats Till out for the Downs we ran, And he laugh'd with the roar of a thousand throats At the militant ways of man:

_Oh! I am the enemy most of might, The other be who you please! Gunner and guns may all be right, Flags a-flying and armour tight, But I am the fellow you've first to fight-- The giant that swings the seas._

A dozen of middies were down below Chasing the X they love, While the table curtseyed long and slow And the lamps were giddy above.

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The lesson was all of a ship and a shot, And some of it may have been true, But the word they heard and never forgot Was the word of the wind that blew:

The Middy with luck is a Captain soon, With luck he may hear one day His own big guns a-humming the tune "'Twas in Trafalgar's Bay." But wherever he goes, with friends or foes, And whatever may there befall, He'll hear for ever a voice he knows For ever defying them all:

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III

_The Middle Watch_

In a blue dusk the ship astern Uplifts her slender spars, With golden lights that seem to burn Among the silver stars. Like fleets along a cloudy shore The constellations creep, Like planets on the ocean floor Our silent course we keep.

_And over the endless plain, Out of the night forlorn Rises a faint refrain, A song of the day to be born-- Watch, oh watch till ye find again Life and the land of morn._

From a dim West to a dark East Our lines unwavering head, As if their motion long had ceased And Time itself were dead.

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Vainly we watch the deep below, Vainly the void above, They died a thousand years ago-- Life and the land we love.

_But over the endless plain, Out of the night forlorn Rises a faint refrain, A song of the day to be born-- Watch, oh watch till ye find again Life and the land of morn._

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_The Little Admiral_

Stand by to reckon up your battleships Ten, twenty, thirty, there they go. Brag about your cruisers like Leviathans-- A thousand men a-piece down below. But here's just one little Admiral We're all of us his brothers and his sons, And he's worth, O he's worth at the very least Double all your tons and all your guns.

_Stand by, etc._

See them on the forebridge signalling-- A score of men a-hauling hand to hand, And the whole fleet flying like the wild geese Moved by some mysterious command. Where's the mighty will that shows the way to them, The mind that sees ahead so quick and clear? He's there, Sir, walking all alone there-- The little man whose voice you never hear.

_Stand by, etc._

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There are queer things that only come to sailormen; They're true, but they're never understood; And I know one thing about the Admiral, That I can't tell rightly as I should. I've been with him when hope sank under us-- He hardly seemed a mortal like the rest, I could swear that he had stars upon his uniform, And one sleeve pinned across his breast.

_Stand by, etc._

Some day we're bound to sight the enemy, He's coming, tho' he hasn't yet a name. Keel to keel and gun to gun he'll challenge us To meet him at the Great Armada game. None knows what may be the end of it, But we'll all give our bodies and our souls To see the little Admiral a-playing him A rubber of the old Long Bowls!

_Stand by, etc._

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_The Song of the Guns at Sea_

Oh hear! Oh hear! Across the sullen tide Across the echoing dome horizon-wide What pulse of fear Beats with tremendous boom! What call of instant doom, With thunderstroke of terror and of pride, With urgency that may not be denied, Reverberates upon the heart's own drum Come! . . . Come! . . . for thou must come!

Come forth, O Soul! This is thy day of power. This is the day and this the glorious hour That was the goal Of thy self-conquering strife. The love of child and wife, The fields of Earth and the wide ways of Thought-- Did not thy purpose count them all as nought That in this moment thou thyself mayst give And in thy country's life for ever live?

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Therefore rejoice That in thy passionate prime Youth's nobler hope disdained the spoils of Time And thine own choice Fore-earned for thee this day. Rejoice! rejoice to obey In the great hour of life that men call Death The beat that bids thee draw heroic breath, Deep-throbbing till thy mortal heart be dumb Come! . . . Come! . . . the time is come!

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_Farewell_

Mother, with unbowed head Hear thou across the sea The farewell of the dead, The dead who died for thee. Greet them again with tender words and grave, For, saving thee, themselves they could not save.

To keep the house unharmed Their fathers built so fair, Deeming endurance armed Better than brute despair, They found the secret of the word that saith, "Service is sweet, for all true life is death."

So greet thou well thy dead Across the homeless sea, And be thou comforted Because they died for thee. Far off they served, but now their deed is done For evermore their life and thine are one.

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_Ode for Trafalgar Day, 1905_

"Partial firing continued until 4.30, when a victory having been reported to the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Nelson, K.B., and Commander-in-Chief, he then died of his wound."--Log of the _Victory_, October 21, 1805.

England! to-day let fire be in thine eyes And in thy heart the throb of leaping guns; Crown in thy streets the deed that never dies, And tell their fathers' fame to all thy sons! Behold! behold! on that unchanging sea Where day behind Trafalgar rises pale, How dread the storm to be Drifts up with ominous breath Cloud after towering cloud of billowy sail Full charged with thunder and the bolts of death.

Yet when the noon is past, and thy delight, More delicate for these good hundred years, Has drunk the splendour and the sound of fight And the sweet sting of long-since vanished fears, Then, England, come thou down with sterner lips From the bright world of thy substantial power, Forget thy seas, thy ships, And that wide echoing dome To watch the soul of man in his dark hour Redeeming yet his dear lost land of home.

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What place is this? What under-world of pain All shadow-barred with glare of swinging fires? What writhing phantoms of the newly slain? What cries? What thirst consuming all desires? This is the field of battle: not for life, Not for the deeper life that dwells in love, Not for the savour of strife Or the far call of fame, Not for all these the fight: all these above The soul of this man cherished Duty's name.

His steadfast hope from self has turned away, For the Cause only must he still contend: "How goes the day with us? How goes the day?" He craves not victory, but to make an end. Therefore not yet thine hour, O Death: but when The weapons forged against his country's peace Lie broken round him--then Give him the kiss supreme; Then let the tumult of his warfare cease And the last dawn dispel his anguished dream.

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_The Hundredth Year_

"Drake, and Blake, and Nelson's mighty name."

The stars were faint in heaven That saw the Old Year die, The dream-white mist of Devon Shut in the seaward sky: Before the dawn's unveiling I heard three voices hailing, I saw three ships come sailing With lanterns gleaming high.

The first he cried defiance-- A full-mouthed voice and bold-- "On God be our reliance, Our hope the Spaniard's gold! With a still, stern ambuscado, With a roaring escalado, We'll sack their Eldorado And storm their dungeon hold!"

Then slowly spake the second-- A great sad voice and deep-- "When all your gold is reckoned, There is but this to keep:

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To stay the foe from fooling, To learn the heathen schooling, To live and die sea-ruling, And home at last to sleep."

But the third matched in beauty The dawn that flushed afar; "O sons of England, Duty Is England's morning star: Then Fame's eternal splendour Be theirs who well defend her, And theirs who fain would bend her The night of Trafalgar!"

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_Drake's Drum_

Drake he's in his hammock an' a thousand mile 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 dancin' 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?), Rovin' 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.

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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!

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The Fighting Téméraire

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! til see the linstock lighting, Téméraire! Téméraire! Oh! to hear the round shot biting, Téméraire! Téméraire! Oh! to see the linstock lighting, And to hear the round shot biting, For we're all in love with fighting On the Fighting Téméraire._

It was noontide ringing, And the battle just begun, When the ship her way was winging As they loaded every gun.

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

There'll be many grim and gory, Téméraire! Téméraire! There'll be few to tell the story, Téméraire! Téméraire! There'll be many grim and gory, There'll be few to tell the story, But we'll all be one in glory With the fighting Téméraire.

There's a far bell ringing At the setting of the sun, And a phantom voice is singing Of the great days done. There's a far bell ringing, And a phantom voice is singing Of renown for ever clinging To the great days done.

Now the sunset breezes shiver, Téméraire! Téméraire! And she's fading down the river, Téméraire! Téméraire! Now the sunset breezes shiver, And she's fading down the river, But in England's song for ever She's the Fighting Téméraire.

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_Admirals All_

Effingham, Grenville, Raleigh, Drake, Here's to the bold and free! Benbow, Collingwood, Byron, Blake, Hail to the Kings of the Sea! Admirals all, for England's sake, Honour be yours and fame! And honour, as long as waves shall break, To Nelson's peerless name!

_Admirals all, for England's sake, Honour be yours and fame! And honour, as long as waves shall break, To Nelson's peerless name!_

Essex was fretting in Cadiz Bay With the galleons fair in sight; Howard at last must give him his way, And the word was passed to fight. Never was schoolboy gayer than he, Since holidays first began: He tossed his bonnet to wind and sea, And under the guns he ran.

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Drake nor devil nor Spaniard feared, Their cities he put to the sack; He singed his Catholic Majesty's beard, And harried his ships to wrack. He was playing at Plymouth a rubber of bowls When the great Armada came; But he said, "They must wait their turn, good souls," And he stooped, and finished the game.

Fifteen sail were the Dutchmen bold, Duncan he had but two; But he anchored them fast where the Texel shoaled And his colours aloft he flew. "I've taken the depth to a fathom," he cried, "And I'll sink with a right good will, For I know when we're all of us under the tide, My flag will be fluttering still."

Splinters were flying above, below, When Nelson sailed the Sound: "Mark you, I wouldn't be elsewhere now," Said he, "for a thousand pound!" The Admiral's signal bade him fly, But he wickedly wagged his head, He clapped the glass to his sightless eye And "I'm damned if I see it," he said.

Admirals all, they said their say (The echoes are ringing still), Admirals all, they went their way To the haven under the hill.

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But they left us a kingdom none can take, The realm of the circling sea, To be ruled by the rightful sons of Blake And the Rodneys yet to be.