Page:The Seaside and the Fireside.djvu/61

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Sir Humphrey Gilbert.
39
In the first watch of the night, Without a signal's sound,Out of the sea, mysteriously, The fleet of Death rose all around.
The moon and the evening star Were hanging in the shrouds;Every mast, as it passed, Seemed to rake the passing clouds.
They grappled with their prize, At midnight black and cold!As of a rock was the shock; Heavily the ground-swell rolled.
Southward through day and dark, They drift in close embrace,With mist and rain, to the Spanish Main; Yet there seems no change of place.
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