The Bright Medusa

By Sir Henry Newbolt

She's the daughter of the breeze,

She's the darling of the seas,

  And we call her, if you please, the bright _Medu--sa_;

From beneath her bosom bare

To the snakes among her hair

  She's a flash o' golden light, the bright _Medu--sa_.

When the ensign dips above

And the guns are all for love,

  She's as gentle as a dove, the bright _Medu--sa_;

But when the shot's in rack

And her forestay flies the Jack,

  He's a merry man would slight the bright _Medu--sa_.

When she got the word to go

Up to Monte Video,

  There she found the river low, the bright _Medu--sa_;

So she tumbled out her guns

And a hundred of her sons,

  And she taught the Dons to fight the bright _Medu--sa_.

When the foeman can be found

With the pluck to cross her ground,

  First she walks him round and round, the bright _Medu--sa_;

Then she rakes him fore and aft

Till he's just a jolly raft,

  And she grabs him like a kite, the bright _Medu--sa_.

She's the daughter of the breeze,

She's the darling of the seas,

  And you'll call her, if you please, the bright _Medu--sa_;

For till England's sun be set--

And it's not for setting yet--

  She shall bear her name by right, the bright _Medu--sa_.