Admirals all, for England’s
sake,
Honour be yours
and fame!
And honour, as long as waves
shall break,
To Nelson’s
peerless name!
San Stefano
(A Ballad of the Bold Menelaus)
It was morning at St. Helen’s, in the great
and gallant days,
And the sea beneath the sun glittered
wide,
When the frigate set her courses, all a-shimmer in
the haze
And she hauled her cable home and took
the tide.
She’d a right fighting company, three hundred
men and more,
Nine and forty guns in tackle running
free;
And they cheered her from the shore for her colours
at the fore,
When the bold Menelaus put to sea.
She’d a right fighting
company, three hundred men and more,
Nine and forty
guns in tackle running free;
And they cheered her from
the shore for her colours at the fore,
When the bold
Menelaus put to sea.
She was clear of Monte Cristo, she was heading for
the land,
When she spied a pennant red and white
and blue;
They were foemen, and they knew it, and they’d
half a league in hand,
But she flung aloft her royals, and she
flew.
She was nearer, nearer, nearer, they were caught beyond
a doubt,
But they slipped her into Orbetello Bay,
And the lubbers gave a shout as they paid their cables
out,
With the guns grinning round them where
they lay.
Now, Sir Peter was a captain of a famous fighting
race,
Son and grandson of an admiral was he;
And he looked upon the batteries, he looked upon the
chase,
And he heard the shout that echoed out
to sea.
And he called across the decks, “Ay! the cheering
might be late
If they kept it till the Menelaus
runs;
Bid the master and his mate heave the lead and lay
her straight
For the prize lying yonder by the guns!”
When the summer moon was setting, into Orbetello Bay
Came the Menelaus gliding like
a ghost;
And her boats were manned in silence, and in silence
pulled away,
And in silence every gunner took his post.
With a volley from her broadside the citadel she woke,
And they hammered back like heroes all
the night;
But before the morning broke she had vanished through
the smoke
With her prize upon her quarter grappled
tight.
It was evening at St. Helen’s in the great and
gallant time,
And the sky behind the down was flushing
far;
And the flags were all a-flutter, and the bells were
all a-chime,
When the frigate cast her anchor off the
bar.
She’d a right fighting company, three hundred
men and more,
Nine and forty guns in tackle running
free;
And they cheered her from the shore for the colours
at the fore,
When the bold Menelaus came from
the sea.
She’d a right fighting
company, three hundred men and more,
Nine and forty
guns in tackle running free;
And they cheered her from
the shore for her colours at the fore,
When the bold
Menelaus came from the sea.