The Hundredth Year

The stars were faint in heaven

That saw the Old Year die,

The dream-white mist of Devon

Shut in the seaward sky:

Before the dawn's unveiling

I heard three voices hailing,

I saw three ships come sailing

With lanterns gleaming high.

The first he cried defiance —

A full-mouthed voice and bold —

“On God be our reliance,

Our hope the Spaniard's gold!

With a still, stern ambuscado,

With a roaring escalado,

We'll sack their Eldorado

And storm their dungeon hold!”

Then slowly spake the second —

A great sad voice and deep —

“When all your gold is reckoned,

There is but this to keep:

To stay the foe from fooling,

To learn the heathen schooling,

To live and die sea-ruling,

And home at last to sleep.”

But the third matched in beauty

The dawn that flushed afar;

“O sons of England, Duty

Is England's morning star:

Then Fame's eternal splendour

Be theirs who well defend her,

And theirs who fain would bend her

The night of Trafalgar!”