Ship after ship，the whole night long，their highbuiltgalleons came，Ship after ship，the whole night long，with their battlethunder and flame；Ship after ship，the whole night long，drew back with her dead and her shame：
For some were sunk and many were shatter’d，and so could fight us no moreGod of battles，was ever a battle like this in the worldbefore？
For he said “Fight on！fight on！”Tho‘his vessel was all but a wreck；And it chanced that，when half of the short summer night was gone，With a grisly wound to be drest he had left the deck，But a bullet struck him that was dressing it suddenly dead，And himself he was wounded again in the side and the head，And he said，“Fight on！fight on！”
And the night went down，and the sun smiled out far over the summer sea，And the Spanish fleet with broken sides lay round us all in a ring；But they dar’d not touch us again，for they fear‘d that we still could sting，So they watch’d what the end would he.And we had not fought them in vain，But in perilous plight were we，Seeing forty of our poor hundred were slain，And half of the rest of us maim‘d for lifeIn the crash of the cannonades and the desperate strife；And the sick men down in the hold were most of them stark and cold，And the pikes were all broken or bent，and the powder was all of it spent；And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side；But Sir Richard cried in his English pride，“We have fought such a fight for a day and a night As may never be fought again！
We have won great glory，my men！And a day less or moreAt sea or ashore，We diedoes it matter when？
Sink me the ship，Master Gunnersink her，split her in twain！
Fall into the hands of God，not into the hands of Spain！”
And the gunner said “Ay，ay，”but the seamen made reply：
“We have children，we have wives，And the Lord hath spared our lives.
We will make the Spaniard promise，if we yield，to let us go；We shall live to fight again and to strike another blow.”And the lion there lay dying，and they yielded to the foe.
And the stately Spanish men to their flagship bore him thenWhere they laid him by the mast，old Sir Richard caught at last，And they praised him to his face with their courtly foreign grace；But he rose upon their decks，and he cried：
“I have fought for Queen and Faith like a valiant man and true；I have only done my duty as a man is bound to do：With a joyful spirit I Sir Richard Grenville die！”And he fell upon their decks，and he died.
And they stared at the dead that had been so valiant and true，And had holden the power and glory of Spain so cheap That he dared her with one little ship and his Englishfew；Was he devil or man？He was devil for aught they knew，But they sank his body with honour down into the deep，And they mann’d The Revenge with a swarthier aliencrew，And away she sail‘d with her loss and long’d for her own；When a wind from the lands they had ruin‘d awoke from sleep，And the water began to heave and the weather to moan，And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew，And a wave like the wave that is raised by an earthquake grew，Till it smote on their hulls and their sails and their masts and their flags，And the whole sea plunged and fell on the shotshatter’d navy of Spain，And the little Revenge herself went down by the island cragsTo be lost evermore in the main.
Alfred Tennyson