ding the coast Lisle's hopes ran
high. "If we chance to meet with them," he wrote, "divided as they
should seem to be, we shall have some sport with them." But the French
kept together and at last retired in good order. That was the queer
end of the last war between those two mighty monarchs, Francis I and
Henry VIII. But both kings were then nearing death; both were very
short of money; and both they and their people were anxious for peace.
Thus ended the Navy's part of 1545.

But three other events of this same year, all connected with English
sea-power, remain to be noted down. First, Drake, the hero of the
coming Spanish War, was born at Crowndale, by Tavistock, in Devon.
Secondly, the mines of Potosi in South America suddenly roused the Old
World to the riches of the New. And, thirdly, the words of the
National Anthem were, so to say, born on board the Portsmouth fleet,
where the "Sailing Orders" ended thus:--"The Watchword in the Night
shall be, 'God save King Henrye!' The other shall answer, 'Long to
raign over Us!'" The National Anthems of all the other Empires,
Kingdoms, and Republics in the world have come from their armies and
the land. Our own springs from the Royal Navy and the sea.

This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise;
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war;
This happy breed of men, this little world;
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands;
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

_Shakespeare_.
_King Richard II, Act II, Scene I_.

TO SEA

To sea, to sea! the calm is o'er;
The wanton water leaps in sport,
And rattles down the pebbly shore;
The dolphin wheels, the sea-cows snort,
And unseen Mermaids' pearly song
Comes bubbling up, the weeds among.
Fling broad the sail, dip deep the oar;
To sea, to sea! the calm is o'er.

To sea, to sea! our wide-winged bark
Shall billowy cleave its sunny way,
And with its shadow, fleet and dark,
Break the caved Tritons' azure day,
Like mighty eagle soaring light
O'er antelopes on Alpine height.
The anchor heaves, the ship swings free,
The sails swell full: To sea, to sea!
--_Thomas Lovell Beddoes_.

A HYM