Page:Poems and ballads, third series (IA poemsballadsthir00swin).pdf/57

 And stinted of gear for battle The ships of the sea's folk lie, Unwarlike, herded as cattle, Six miles from the foeman's eye That fastens as flame on the sight of them tame and offenceless, and ranged as to die.

Surely the souls in them quail, They are stricken and withered at heart, When in on them, sail by sail, Fierce marvels of monstrous art, Tower darkening on tower till the sea-winds cower crowds down as to hurl them apart.

And the windless weather is kindly, And comforts the host in these; And their hearts are uplift in them blindly, And blindly they boast at ease That the next day's fight shall exalt them, and smite with destruction the lords of the seas.