Charred wadding drifted through the shrouds,
smoke and ashes in their eyes.
Captain Neale, his hanger pointing,
said, "we'll take her as a prize."
The last broadside had smashed her main
and bent her foremast over.
What was left was a shattered hulk,
she'd be lucky to make Dover.
The Frenchie struck her colours,
as the Redcoats stormed the deck.
A French leutenant,crying,on his knees,
their Captain hanging by his neck.
What happened to La Legion Noir
and their quixotic escapade?.
They'd all but died in that last fight,
or the bloody cannonade.
Once the crew knew the ship was theirs
the victory cheers begun.
It was three hussars for Captain Neale,
three hussars for everyone.
England expects every man to do his duty,
and every man done England proud that day.
And they all sang Rule Brittannia,
for Brittannia rules the waves.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 4:33pm on Nov 10, 2024 via server WEBX1.