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 'Twas the squadron that escaped, with the victor

in full chase; First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship,

Damfreville;

Close on him fled, great and small, Twenty-two good ships in all; And they signalled to the place ' Help the winners of a race !

Get us guidance, give us harbour, take us quick

or, quicker still, Here's the English can and will! '

Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt

on board; 'Why, what hope or chance have ships like these

to pass ? ' laughed they : 'Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage

scarred and scored, Shall the Formidable here with her twelve and

eighty guns Think to make the river-mouth by the single

narrow way, Trust to enter where 'tis ticklish for a craft of twenty

tons,

And with flow at full beside? Now, 'tis slackest ebb of tide. Reach the mooring? Rather say, While rock stands or water runs, Not a ship will leave the bay ! '

Then was called a council straight. Brief and bitter the debate :

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