Drake he's in his hammock till the great Armadas come.(Capten, art tha sleepin' there below)Slung atween the round shot, listenin' for the drum, An dreamin' arl the time o' Plymouth Hoe.
Drake he's in his hammock till the great Armadas come.(Capten, art tha sleepin' there below)Slung atween the round shot, listenin' for the drum, An dreamin' arl the time o' Plymouth Hoe.
Now the sunset breezes shiver, And she's fading down the river, But in England's song for ever She's the Fighting Temeraire.
Take my drum to England, hang et by the shore, Strike et when your powder's runnin' low; If the Dons sight Devon, I'll quit the port o' Heaven, An' drum them up the Channel as we drummed them long ago.
There's a breathless hush in the Close tonight -Ten to make and the match to win -A bumping pitch and a blinding light, An hour to play and the last man in.
He clapped the glass to his sightless eye, And 'I'm damned if I see it', he said.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories