Well they slept, for well they knew What the morrow taught us all-- He was wise (as well as true) Thus upon the foe to fall. Long shall Spain the day deplore Dewey ran Corregidor. May is dancing into light As the Spanish Admiral From a dream of phantom fight Wakens at his sentry’s call. Shall he leave Cavité’s lee, Hunt the Yankee fleet at sea? O Montojo, to thy deck, That to-day shall float its last! Quick! To quarters! Yonder speck Grows a hull of portent vast. Hither, toward Cavité’s lee Comes the Yankee hunting thee! Not for fear of hidden mine Halts our doughty Commodore. He, of old heroic line, Follows Farragut once more, Hazards all on victory, Here within Cavité’s lee. If he loses, all is gone; He will win because he must. And the shafts of yonder dawn Are not quicker than his thrust. Soon, Montojo, he shall be With thee in Cavité’s lee. Now, Manila, to the fray! Show the hated Yankee host This is not a holiday-- Spanish blood is more than boast. Fleet and mine and battery, Crush him in Cavité’s lee! Lo, hell’s geysers at our fore Pierce the plotted path--in vain, Nerving every man the more With the memory of the _Maine_! Now at last our guns are free Here within Cavité’s lee. “Gridley,” says the Commodore, “You may fire when ready.” Then Long and loud, like lions’ roar When a rival dares the den, Breaks the awful cannonry Full across Cavité’s lee. Who shall tell the daring tale Of Our Thunderbolt’s attack, Finding, when the chart should fail, By the lead his dubious track, Five ships following faithfully Five times o’er Cavité’s lee; Of our gunners’ deadly aim; Of the gallant foe and brave Who, unconquered, faced with flame, Seek the mercy of the wave-- Choosing honor in the sea Underneath Cavité’s lee! Let the meed the victors gain Be the measure of their task. Less of flinching, stouter strain, Fiercer combat--who could ask? And “surrender”--’twas a word That Cavité ne’er had heard. Noon--the woful work is done! Not a Spanish ship remains; But, of their eleven, none Ever was so truly Spain’s! Which is prouder, they or we, Thinking of Cavité’s lee? ENVOY But remember, when we’ve ceased Giving praise and reckoning odds, Man shares courage with the beast, Wisdom cometh from the gods. Who would win, on land or wave, Must be wise as well as brave. ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON. (By special permission of the author.) 51 THE MEN OF THE “MERRIMAC”