The revenge a ballad of the fleet. The revenge : a ballad of the fleet : opus 24, set to music for mixed chorus and orchestra (Musical score, 1998) [www.rgops.com] 2019-01-06

The revenge a ballad of the fleet Rating: 4,8/10 1823 reviews

The Revenge

the revenge a ballad of the fleet

He was devil for aught they knew, But they sank his body with honour down into the deep, And they manned the Revenge with a swarthier alien crew, And away she sailed with her loss and longed for her own; When a wind from the lands they had ruined awoke from sleep, And the water began to heave and the weather to moan, And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew, And a wave like the wave that is raised by an earthquake grew, Till it smote on their hulls and their sails and their masts and their flags, And the whole sea plunged and fell on the shot-shattered navy of Spain, And the little Revenge herself went down by the island crags To be lost evermore in the main. And we had not fought them in vain, But in perilous plight were we, Seeing forty of our poor hundred were slain, And half of the rest of us maimed for life In the crash of the cannonades and the desperate strife; And the sick men down in the hold were most of them stark and cold, And the pikes were all broken or bent, and the powder was all of it spent; And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side; But Sir Richard cried in his English pride, 'We have fought such a fight for a day and a night As may never be fought again! Sink me the ship, Master Gunner—sink her, split her in twain! I A T Flores, in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay, And a pinnace, like a flutter’d bird, came flying from far away; “Spanish ships of war at sea! We have won great glory, my men! Let us bang these dogs of Seville, the children of the devil, For I never turned my back upon Don or devil yet. Good Sir Richard, tell us now, For to fight is but to die! Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain! Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain! But I've ninety men and more that are lying sick ashore. And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer seas, But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty three. And a day less or more At sea or ashore, We die--does it matter when? Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built galleons came, Ship after ship, the whole night long, with her battle-thunder and flame; Ship after ship, the whole night long, drew back with her dead and her shame. And while now the great San Philip hung above us like a cloud Whence the thunderbolt will fall Long and loud, Four galleons drew away From the Spanish fleet that day, And two upon the larboard and two upon the starboard lay, And the battle-thunder broke from them all. Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built galleons came, Ship after ship, the whole night long, with her battle-thunder and flame; Ship after ship, the whole night long, drew back with her dead and her shame.

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The Revenge: A Ballad of the Fleet

the revenge a ballad of the fleet

And a day less or more At sea or ashore, We die -does it matter when? After a hand to hand battle lasting 15 hours, involving 15 ships and 5000 men, the Revenge was captured. And they stared at the dead that had been so valiant and true, And had holden the power and glory of Spain so cheap That he dared her with one little ship and his English few; Was he devil or man? He was devil for aught they knew, But they sank his body with honour down into the deep, And they manned the Revenge with a swarthier alien crew, And away she sailed with her loss and longed for her own; When a wind from the lands they had ruined awoke from sleep, And the water began to heave and the weather to moan, And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew, And a wave like the wave that is raised by an earthquake grew, Till it smote on their hulls and their sails and their masts and their flags, And the whole sea plunged and fell on the shot-shattered navy of Spain, And the little Revenge herself went down by the island crags To be lost evermore in the main. Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built galleons came, Ship after ship, the whole night long, with her battle-thunder and flame; Ship after ship, the whole night long, drew back with her dead and her shame. Vì sao bạn nên chọn chúng tôi? There'll be little of us left by the time this sun be set. Go and tell Lord Grenville that our dreams have run aground There's nothing here to keep us in this shanty town None of us are caring where we're bound Like voices on the wind And come the day you'll hear them saying They're throwing it all away Nothing more to say Just throwing it all away Go and fetch the captain's log and tear the pages out We're on our way to nowhere now, can't bring the helm about None of us are left in any doubt We won't be back again Send a message to the fleet, they'll search for us in vain We won't be there among the reaches of the Spanish Main Tell the ones we left home not to wait We won't be back again. Other ships in the fleet weighed anchor and headed out to sea. But I've ninety men and more that are lying sick ashore.

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The Wondering Minstrels: The Revenge : A Ballad of the Fleet

the revenge a ballad of the fleet

He was sent with a fleet of 13 ships to intercept a Spanish treasure ship in the Azores. Hi, I trust I have the right Email address re 'The Revenge' I was pleased to read this poem. With a joyful spirit I Sir Richard Grenville die! He had only a hundred seamen to work the ship and to fight, And he sailed away from Flores till the Spaniard came in sight, With his huge sea-castles heaving upon the weather bow. But anon the great San Philip, she bethought herself and went Having that within her womb that had left her ill content; And the rest they came aboard us, and they fought us hand to hand, For a dozen times they came with their pikes and musqueteers, And a dozen times we shook 'em off as a dog that shakes his ears When he leaps from the water to the land. I should count myself the coward if I left them, my Lord Howard, To these Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain. But anon the great San Philip, she bethought herself and went Having that within her womb that had left her ill content; And the rest they came aboard us, and they fought us hand to hand, For a dozen times they came with their pikes and their musketeers, And a dozen time we shook 'em off as a dog that shakes his ears When he leaps from the water to the land.

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The Wondering Minstrels: The Revenge : A Ballad of the Fleet

the revenge a ballad of the fleet

For some were sunk and many were shattered, and so could fight us no more - God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before? Tennyson was not the only poet who wrote about the last battle of ‘The Revenge’. He was devil for aught they knew, But they sank his body with honour down into the deep, And they manned the Revenge with a swarthier alien crew, And away she sailed with her loss and longed for her own; When a wind from the lands they had ruined awoke from sleep, And the water began to heave and the weather to moan, And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew, And a wave like a wave that is raised by an earthquake grew, Till it smote on their hulls and their sails and their masts and their flags, And the whole sea plunged and fell on the shot-shattered navy of Spain, And the little Revenge herself went down by the island crags To be lost evermore in the main. Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain! Good Sir Richard, tell us now, For to fight is but to die! But anon the great Philip, she bethought herself and went Having that within her womb that had left her ill content; And the rest they came aboard us, and they fought us hand to hand, For a dozen times they came with their pikes and musqueteers, And a dozen times we shook 'em off as a dog that shakes his ears When he leaps from the water to the land. Here he takes an extraordinarily heroic and largely true story, starring one of those insanely brave and dashing sea-dogs who helped ensure that Britannia would rule the waves “I never turned my back upon Don or devil yet” , and tells it with absolute mastery of language. I have compiled a book entitled 'Memories' included is a copy of part of a progamme my late father did for Radio Stoke 'In Living Memory' My father was born in 1893 he says in the programme; after a good meal there was a convivial atmosphere, singing, jokes etc. Fore God I am no coward; But I cannot meet them here, for my ships are out of gear, And the half my men are sick. We have sighted fifty three! I am happy to accept this small oscillation in pronunciation which also seems evident in the eleventh stanza as just another sea-change-style variation woven into the poem.


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The revenge : a ballad of the fleet : opus 24, set to music for mixed chorus and orchestra (Musical score, 1998) [www.rgops.com]

the revenge a ballad of the fleet

And the sick men down in the hold were most of them stark and cold, And the pikes were all broken or bent, and the powder was all of it spent; And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side. And they stared at the dead that had been so valiant and true, And had holden the power and the glory of Spain so cheap That he dared her with one little ship and his English few; Was he devil or man? There'll be little of us left by the time this sun be set. With a joyful spirit I, Sir Richard Grenville, die! And a day less or more At sea or ashore, We die -does it matter when? I must fly, but follow quick. I must fly, but follow quick. Grenville was carried aboard the Spanish flagship, where he died a few days later.

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The Wondering Minstrels: The Revenge : A Ballad of the Fleet

the revenge a ballad of the fleet

And we had not fought them in vain, But in perilous plight were we, Seeing forty of our poor hundred were slain, And half of the rest of us maim’d for life In the crash of the cannonades and the desperate strife; And the sick men down in the hold were most of them stark and cold, And the pikes were all broken or bent, and the powder was all of it spent; And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side; But Sir Richard cried in his English pride: “We have fought such a fight for a day and a night As may never be fought again! And they stared at the dead that had been so valiant and true, And had holden the power and glory of Spain so That he dared her with one little ship and his English few; Was he devil or man? I should count myself the coward if I left them, my Lord Howard, To these Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain. For some were sunk and many were shattered, and so could fight us no more - God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before? The Revenge: A Ballad of the Fleet by Lord Alfred Tennyson Send some poems to a friend - the love thought that counts! And they stared at the dead that had been so valiant and true, And had holden the power and glory of Spain so cheap That he dared her with one little ship and his English few; Was he devil or man? For some were sunk and many were shatter'd, and so could fight us no more-- God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before? I was a bit surprised that the minstrels have not run this one before. I should count myself the coward if I left them, my Lord Howard, To those Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain. He had only a hundred seamen to work the ship and to fight, And he sailed away from Flores till the Spaniard came in sight, With his huge sea-castles heaving upon the weather bow. Let us bang these dogs of Seville, the children of the devil, For I never turn’d my back upon Don or devil yet. Good Sir Richard, tell us now, For to fight is but to die! And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer sea, But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three. And a day less or more At sea or ashore, We die - does it matter when? Grenville's ship, the Revenge, was delayed and cut off.

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The Revenge; A Ballad of the Fleet poem

the revenge a ballad of the fleet

For those interested in comparing the song to the poem, I've added the song lyrics below. Good Sir Richard, tell us now, For to fight is but to die! Let us bang these dogs of Seville, the children of the devil, For I never turned my back upon Don or devil yet. We are six ships of the line; can we fight with fifty-three? And a day less or more At sea or ashore, We die -does it matter when? He was devil for aught they knew, But they sank his body with honour down into the deep, And they manned the Revenge with a swarthier alien crew, And away she sailed with her loss and longed for her own; When a wind from the lands they had ruined awoke from sleep, And the water began to heave and the weather to moan, And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew, And a wave like the wave that is raised by an earthquake grew, Till it smote on their hulls and their sails and their masts and their flags, And the whole sea plunged and fell on the shot-shattered navy of Spain, And the little Revenge herself went down by the island crags To be lost evermore in the main. There'll be little of us left by the time this sun be set. He was devil for aught they knew, But they sank his body with honor down into the deep.

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The Revenge: A Ballad of the Fleet

the revenge a ballad of the fleet

He had only a hundred seamen to work the ship and to fight, And he sail'd away from Flores till the Spaniard came in sight, With his huge sea-castles heaving upon the weather bow. I must fly, but follow quick. Sincerely Mrs Eveline Shore said. And while now the great San Philip hung above us like a cloud Whence the thunderbolt will fall Long and loud, Four galleons drew away From the Spanish fleet that day, And two upon the larboard and two upon the starboard lay, And the battle-thunder broke from them all. And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer seas, But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three. We are six ships of the line; can we fight with fifty-three? Good Sir Richard, tell us now, For to fight is but to die! L Rowse died 1997 aged 93 in a historical monograph entitled ‘Sir Richard Grenville of the ‘Revenge’’, published by Jonathan Cape in 1937, and still occasionally available in second-hand bookshops. Thousands of their soldiers looked down from their decks and laughed, Thousands of their seamen made mock at the mad little craft Running on and on, till delayed By their mountain-like San Philip that, of fifteen hundred tons, And up-shadowing high above us with her yawning tiers of guns, Took the breath from our sails, and we stayed.

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