Page:Poems and ballads, third series (IA poemsballadsthir00swin).pdf/60

 They fly through the night from shoreward, Heart-stricken till morning break, And ever to scourge them forward Drives down on them England's Drake, And hurls them in as they hurtle and spin and stagger, with storm to wake.

And now is their time come on them. For eastward they drift and reel, With the shallows of Flanders ahead, with destruction and havoc at heel, With God for their comfort only, the God whom they serve; and here Their Lord, of his great loving-kindness, may revel and make good cheer;