Let them come, come never so proudly, O'er the green waves as giants ride; Silver clarions menacing loudly, 'All the Spains' on their banners wide; High on deck of the gilded galleys Our light sailers they scorn below:-- We will scatter them, plague, and shatter them, Till their flag hauls down to their foe! For our oath we swear By the name we bear, By England's Queen, and England free and fair,-- Her's ever and her's still, come life, come death:-- God save Elizabeth! Sidonia, Recalde, and Leyva Watch from their Castles in swarthy scorn, Lords and Princes by Philip's favour;-- We by birthright are noble born! Freemen born of the blood of freemen, Sons of Crecy and Flodden are we! We shall sunder them, fire, and plunder them,-- English boats on an English sea! And our oath we swear, By the name we bear, By England's Queen, and England free and fair,-- Her's ever and her's still, come life, come death! God save Elizabeth! Drake and Frobisher, Hawkins, and Howard, Raleigh, Cavendish, Cecil, and Brooke, Hang like wasps by the flagships tower'd, Sting their way through the thrice-piled oak:-- Let them range their seven-mile crescent, Giant galleons, canvas wide! Ours will harry them, board, and carry them, Plucking the plumes of the Spanish pride. For our oath we swear By the name we bear, By England's Queen, and England free and fair,-- Her's ever and her's still, come life, come death! God save Elizabeth! --Hath God risen in wrath and scatter'd? Have His tempests smote them in scorn? Past the Orcades, dumb and tatter'd, 'Mong sea-beasts do they drift forlorn? We were as lions hungry for battle; God has made our battle His own! God has scatter'd them, sunk, and shatter'd them: Give the glory to Him alone! While our oath we swear, By the name we bear, By England's Queen, and England free and fair,-- Her's ever and her's still, come life, come death! God save Elizabeth! AT BEMERTON 1630-1633 Sick with the strife of tongues, the blustering hate Of frantic Party raving o'er the realm, Sonorous insincerities of debate, And jealous factions snatching at the helm, And Out o'er-bidding In with graceless strife, Selling the State for votes:--O happy fields, I cried, where Herbert, by the world misprized, Found in his day the life That no unrest or disappointment yields, Vergilian vision here best realized!