| Louis Untermeyer, ed. (1885–1977). Modern British Poetry. 1920. |
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| Henry Newbolt. 1862– |
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| 41. Drake's Drum |
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| DRAKE he's in his hammock an' a thousand mile away, | |
| (Capten, art tha sleepin' there below?) | |
| Slung atween the round shot in Nombre Dios Bay, | |
| An' dreamin' arl the time o' Plymouth Hoe. | |
| Yarnder lumes the island, yarnder lie the ships, | 5 |
| Wi' sailor lads a-dancin' heel-an'-toe, | |
| An' the shore-lights flashin', an' the night-tide dashin' | |
| He sees et arl so plainly as he saw et long ago. | |
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| Drake he was a Devon man, an' ruled the Devon seas, | |
| (Capten, art tha sleepin' there below?), | 10 |
| Rovin' tho' his death fell, he went wi' heart at ease, | |
| An' dreamin' arl the time o' Plymouth Hoe, | |
| "Take my drum to England, hang et by the shore, | |
| Strike et when your powder's runnin' low; | |
| If the Dons sight Devon, I'll quit the port o' Heaven, | 15 |
| An' drum them up the Channel as we drummed them long ago." | |
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| Drake he's in his hammock till the great Armadas come, | |
| (Capten, art tha sleepin' there below?), | |
| Slung atween the round shot, listenin' for the drum, | |
| An' dreamin' arl the time o' Plymouth Hoe. | 20 |
| Call him on the deep sea, call him up the Sound, | |
| Call him when ye sail to meet the foe; | |
| Where the old trade's plyin' an' the old flag flyin', | |
| They shall find him, ware an' wakin', as they found him long ago. | |
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