The Bright Medusa
She's the daughter of the breeze,
She's the darling of the seas, And we call her, if you please, the bright
Medu--sa_;
From beneath her bosom
To the snakes among her hair She's a flash o' golden light, the bright
Medu--sa_.
When the ensign dips
And the guns are all for love, She's as gentle as a dove, the bright
Medu--sa_;
But when the shot's in
And her forestay flies the Jack, He's a merry man would slight the bright
Medu--sa_.
When she got the word to
Up to Monte Video, There she found the river low, the bright
Medu--sa_;
So she tumbled out her
And a hundred of her sons, And she taught the Dons to fight the bright
Medu--sa_.
When the foeman can be
With the pluck to cross her ground, First she walks him round and round, the bright
Medu--sa_;
Then she rakes him fore and
Till he's just a jolly raft, And she grabs him like a kite, the bright
Medu--sa_.
She's the daughter of the breeze,
She's the darling of the seas, And you'll call her, if you please, the bright
Medu--sa_;
For till England's sun be set--And it's not for setting yet-- She shall bear her name by right, the bright
Medu--sa_.
Sir Henry Newbolt
Other author posts
The Only Son
O bitter wind toward the sunset blowing, What of the dales tonight In yonder gray old hall what fires are glowing, What ring of festal lights
Hymn
In The Time Of War And TumultsO Lord Almighty, Thou whose hands Despair and victory give; In whom, though tyrants tread their lands, The souls of nations live; Thou wilt not turn Thy face away From those who work Thy will,
Balade
(from the French of Wenceslas, Duke of Brabant and Luxembourg, who died in 1384 )I cannot tell, of twain beneath this bond, Which one in grief the other goes beyond,---Narcissus, who to end the pain he
Gavotte
(Old French)Memories long in music sleeping, No more sleeping, No more dumb; Delicate phantoms softly creeping Softly back from the old-world come Faintest odours around them straying, Suddenly straying In chambers dim; Whispering s...