MikeLigalig.com

SANTIAGO
by Janvier, Thomas Allibone [1849-1913]

In the stagnant pride of an outworn race
The Spaniard sail'd the sea:
Till we haled him up to God's judgment-place—
And smashed him by God's decree!
Out from the harbor, belching smoke,
Came dashing seaward the Spanish ships—
[634]
And from all our decks a great shout broke,
Then our hearts came up and set us a-choke
For joy that we had them at last at grips!
No need for signals to get us away—
We were off at score, with our screws a-gleam!
Through the blistering weeks we'd watched the bay
And our captains had need not a word to say—
Save to bellow and curse down the pipes for steam!
Leading the pack in its frightened flight
The Colon went foaming away to the west—
Her tall iron bulwarks, black as night,
And her great black funnels, sharp in sight
'Gainst the green-clad hills in their peace and rest.
Her big Hontaria blazed away
At the Indiana, our first in line.
The short-ranged shot drenched our decks with spray—
While our thirteen-inchers, in answering play,
Ripped straight through her frame to her very spine!
*
*
*
*
*
Straight to its end went our winning fight
With the thunder of guns in a mighty roar.
Our hail of iron, casting withering blight,
Turning the Spanish ships in their flight
To a shorter death on the rock-bound shore.
The Colon, making her reckless race
With the Brooklyn and Oregon close a-beam,
Went dashing landward—and stopped the chase
By grinding her way to her dying-place
In a raging outburst of flame and steam.
So the others, facing their desperate luck,
Drove headlong on to their rock-dealt death—
The Vizcaya, yielding before she struck,
The riddled destroyers, a huddled ruck,
Sinking, and gasping for drowning breath.
So that flying battle surged down the coast,
With its echoing roar from the Cuban land;
So the dying war-ships gave up the ghost;
So we shattered and mangled the Philistine host—
So the fight was won that our Sampson planned!
Thomas A. Janvier.

Source: Project Gutenberg

Source: Project Gutenberg