"Now does Spain's fleet her spacious wings unfold, Leaves the new world, and hastens for the old; But though the wind was fair, they slowly swum, Freighted with acted guilt, and guilt to come; For this rich load, of which so proud they are, Was raised by tyranny, and raised for war. ... ... For now upon the main themselves they saw That boundless empire, where you give the law." The Canary Islands are rapturously described--their delightful climate and their excellent wine. Obviously they should be annexed:-- "The best of lands should have the best of Kings." The fight begins. "Bold Stayner leads" and "War turned the temperate to the torrid zone":-- "Fate these two fleets, between both worlds, had brought Who fight, as if for both those worlds they fought. ... ... The all-seeing sun ne'er gazed on such a sight, Two dreadful navies there at anchor fight, And neither have, or power, or will, to fly; There one must conquer, or there both must die." Blake sinks the Spanish ships:-- "Their galleons sunk, their wealth the sea does fill, The only place where it can cause no ill"; and the poet concludes:-- "Ah! would those treasures which both Indias have Were buried in as large, and deep a grave! War's chief support with them would buried be, And the land owe her peace unto the sea. Ages to come your conquering arms will bless. There they destroyed what had destroyed their peace; And in one war the present age may boast, The certain seeds of many wars are lost." Good politics, if but second-rate poetry. This was the last time the Spanish war-cry _Santiago, y cierra Espana_ rang in hostility in English ears. Turning for a moment from war to love, on the 19th of November 1657 Cromwell's third daughter, the Lady Mary Cromwell, was married to Viscount, afterwards Earl, Fauconberg. The Fauconbergs took revolutions calmly and, despite the disinterment of their great relative, accepted the Restoration gladly and lived to chuckle over the Revolution. The forgetfulness, no less than the vindictiveness, of men is often surprising. Marvell, who played the part of Laureate during the Protectorate, produced two songs for the conventionally joyful occasion. The second of the two is decidedly pretty for a November wedding:-- "_Hobbinol._ PHILLIS, TOMALIN, away! Never such a merry day, For the northern shepherd's son Has MENALCAS' daughter won. _Phillis._ Stay till I some flowers have tied In a garland for the bride. _Tomalin._ If thou would'st a garland bring, PHILLIS, you may wait the spring: They have chosen such an hour When she is the only flower. _Phillis._ Let's not then, at least, be seen Without each a sprig of green.