And above the ships are palaces of brown, blackbearded chiefs,

And below the ships are prisons, where with multitudinous griefs,

Christian captives sick and sunless, all a labouring race

repines

Like a race in sunken cities, like a nation in the mines. They are lost like slaves that sweat, and in the skies of morning hung

The stair-ways of the tallest gods when tyranny was

young.

They are countless, voiceless, hopeless as those fallen or fleeing on

Before the high Kings' horses in the granite of Babylon. And many a one grows witless in his quiet room in hell

Where a yellow face looks inward through the lattice of his cell,

And he finds his God forgotten, and he seeks no more a sign

(But Don John of Austria has burst the battle-line!) Don John pounding from the slaughter-painted poop, Purpling all the ocean like a bloody pirate's sloop, Scarlet running over on the silvers and the golds, Breaking of the hatches up and bursting of the holds, Thronging of the thousands up that labour under sea White for bliss and blind for sun and stunned for lib

erty.

Vivat Hispania!
Domino Gloria!

Don John of Austria

Has set his people free!

Cervantes on his galley sets the sword back in the sheath

(Don John of Austria rides homeward with a wreath.) And he sees across a weary land a straggling road in Spain,

Up which a lean and foolish knight for ever rides in

vain,

And he smiles, but not as Sultans smile, and settles back the blade.

(But Don John of Austria rides home from the Crusade.)

COMRADES

BY RICHARD HOVEY

Comrades, pour the wine to-night
For the parting is with dawn!
Oh, the clink of cups together,
With the daylight coming on!
Greet the morn

With a double horn

When strong men drink together!

Comrades, gird your swords to-night,
For the battle is with dawn!

Oh, the clash of shields together,
With the triumph coming on!

Greet the foe,

And lay him low,

When strong men fight together!

Comrades, watch the tides to-night,
For the sailing is with dawn!
Oh, to face the spray together,
With the tempest coming on!
Greet the sea

With a shout of glee,

When strong men roam together!

Comrades, give a cheer to-night,
For the dying is with dawn!
Oh, to meet the stars together,
With the silence coming on!
Greet the end

As a friend a friend,

When strong men die together!

GIVE A ROUSE

(Cavalier Tune)

BY ROBERT BROWNING

King Charles, and who'll do him right now?

King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now? Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now, King Charles!

Who gave me the goods that went since?
Who rais'd me the house that sank once?
Who help'd me to gold I spent since?
Who found me in wine you drank once?
(Chorus)

King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now,
King Charles!

To whom us'd my boy George quaff else,
By the old fool's side that begot him?
For whom did he cheer and laugh else,
While Noll's damn'd troopers shot him?

(Chorus)

King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now,
King Charles!

THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE

BY ALFRED TENNYSON

Half a league, half a league,

Half a league onward,

All in the valley of death

Rode the six hundred.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!

Take the guns!" Nolan said;
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismayed?
Not though the soldiers knew
Some one had blundered;
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die;-
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,

Cannon in front of them

Volleyed and thundered. Stormed at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well; Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell

Rode the six hundred.

Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed as they turned in air,
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while