Page:The Five Nations.djvu/53

Rh There walks no wind 'neath Heaven

Nor wave that shall restore

The old careening riot

And the clamorous, crowded shore—

The fountain in the desert,

The cistern in the waste,

The bread we ate in secret,

The cup we spilled in haste!

Now call I to my Captains—

For council fly the sign,

Now leap their zealous galleys

Twelve-oared across the brine.

To me the straiter prison,

To me the heavier chain—

To me Diego Valdez,

High Admiral of Spain!