And the gunner said, "Ay, ay," but the seamen made reply: "We have children, we have wives, And the Lord hath spared our lives. We will make the Spaniard promise, if we yield, to let us go; We shall live to fight again, and to strike another blow." And the lion there lay dying, and they yielded to the foe.
And the stately Spanish men to their flagship bore him then, Where they laid him by the mast, old Sir Richard caught at last, And they praised him to his face with their courtly foreign grace; But he rose upon their decks, and he cried: "I have fought for Queen and Faith like a valiant man and true; I have only done my duty as a man is bound to do: With a joyful spirit I, Sir Richard Grenville, die!" And he fell upon their decks, and he died.
What's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod Its maker meant not should be trod By man, the image of his God, Erect and free, Unscourged by Superstition's rod To bow the knee?
That's hallowed ground--where, mourned and missed, The lips repose our love has kissed:-- But where's their memory's mansion? Is't Yon churchyard's bowers? No! in ourselves their souls exist, A part of ours.
What hallows ground where heroes sleep? 'Tis not the sculptured piles you heap! In dews that heavens far distant weep Their turf may bloom; Or Genii twine beneath the deep Their coral tomb:
But strew his ashes to the wind Whose sword or voice has served mankind-- And is he dead, whose glorious mind Lifts thine on high?-- To live in hearts we leave behind, Is not to die.
Is't death to fall for Freedom's right? He's dead alone that lacks her light! And murder sullies in Heaven's sight The sword he draws:-- What can alone ennoble fight? A noble cause!
What's hallowed ground? 'Tis what gives birth To sacred thoughts in souls of worth!-- Peace! Independence! Truth! go forth Earth's compass round; And your high priesthood shall make earth _All hallowed ground_.
You know we French stormed Ratisbon: A mile or so away On a little mound, Napoleon Stood on our storming-day; With neck out thrust, you fancy how, Legs wide, arms locked behind, As if to balance the prone brow Oppressive with its mind.
Just as perhaps he mused, "My plans That soar, to earth may fall, Let once my army leader Lannes Waver at yonder wall,--" Out 'twixt the battery smokes there flew A rider, bound on bound Full galloping; nor bridle drew Until he reached the mound.