ough,
The watch dogs bark,
Bough wough,
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer,
Cry, cock-a-doodle-doo.

_W. Shakespeare_

XL

_HOW'S MY BOY?_

Ho, sailor of the sea!
How's my boy--my boy?
'What's your boy's name, good wife,
And in what good ship sail'd he?'

My boy John--
He that went to sea--
What care I for the ship, sailor?
My boy's my boy to me.

You come back from sea
And not know my John?
I might as well have asked some landsman
Yonder down in the town.
There's not an ass in all the parish
But he knows my John.

How's my boy--my boy?
And unless you let me know
I'll swear you are no sailor,
Blue jacket or no,
Brass button or no, sailor,
Anchor and crown or no!
Sure his ship was the _Jolly Briton_--
'Speak low, woman, speak low!'

And why should I speak low, sailor,
About my own boy John?
If I was loud as I am proud
I'd sing him over the town!
Why should I speak low, sailor?
'That good ship went down.'

How's my boy--my boy?
What care I for the ship, sailor,
I never was aboard her.
Be she afloat, or be she aground,
Sinking or swimming, I'll be bound.
Her owners can afford her!
I say, how's my John?
'Every man on board went down,
Every man aboard her.'

How's my boy--my boy?
What care I for the men, sailor?
I'm not their mother--
How's my boy--my boy?
Tell me of him and no other!
How's my boy--my boy?

_S. Dobell_

XLI

_THE SPANISH ARMADA_

Attend all ye who list to hear our noble England's praise,
I tell of the thrice famous deeds she wrought in ancient days,
When that great fleet invincible against her bore in vain
The richest spoils of Mexico, the stoutest hearts of Spain.

It was about the lovely close of a warm summer day,
There came a gallant merchant-ship full sail to Plymouth Bay;
Her crew hath seen Castile's black fleet beyond Aurigny's isle,
At earliest twilight, on the waves lie heaving many a mile;
At sunrise she escaped their van, by God's especial grace;
And the tall Pinta, till the noon, had held her close in chase.
Forthwith a guard at every gun was placed along the wall;
The beacon blazed upon the roof of Edgcumbe's lofty hall;
Many a light fishing-bark