The First American Sailors

The First American Sailors
by Cinton Scollard and Wallace Rice

Five fearless knights of the first renown
In ELIZABETH'S great array,
From Plymouth in Devon sailed up and down—
American sailors they;
Who went to the West,
For they all knew best
Where the silver was grey
As a moonlit night,
And the gold as bright
As a midsummer day —
A-sailing away
Through the salt sea spray,
The first American sailors.

Sir HUMPHREY GILBERT, he was ONE.
And Devon was heaven to him,
He loved the sea as he loved the sun
And hated the Don as the Devil's limb —
Hated him up to the brim!
In Holland the Spanish hide he tanned,
He roughed and routed their braggart band,
And GOD was with him on sea as land;
Newfoundland knew him, and all that coast,
For he was one of America's host —
And now there is nothing but English speech
For leagues and leagues, and reach on reach,
From near the Equator away to the Pole;
While the billows beat and the oceans roll
On the Three Americas.

Sir FRANCES DRAKE, and he was TWO
And Devon was heaven to him,
He loved in his heart the waters blue
And hated the Don as the Devil's limb —
Hated him up to the brim!
At Cadiz he singed the King's black beard,
The Armada met him and fled afeared,
Great Philip's golden fleece he sheared;
Oregon knew him, and all that coast,
For he was one of America's host —
And now there is nothing but English speech
For leagues and leagues, and reach on reach,
From California away to the Pole;
While the billows beat and the oceans roll
On the Three Americas.

Sir WALTER RALEIGH, he was THREE
And Devon was heaven to him,
There was nothing he loved so well as the sea —
He hated the Don as the Devil's limb —
Hated him up to the brim!
He settled full many a Spanish score,
Full many's the banner his bullets tore
On English, American, Spanish shore;
Guiana knew him, and all that coast,
For he was one of America's host —
And now there is nothing but English speech
For leagues and leagues, and reach on reach,
From Guiana northward to the Pole;
While the billows beat and the oceans roll
On the Three Americas.

Sir RICHARD GRENVILLE he was FOUR
And Devon was heaven to him,
He loved the waves and their windy roar
And hated the Don as the Devil's limb—
Hated him up to the brim!
He whipped him on land and mocked him at sea,
He laughed to scorn his sovereignty,
And with the Revenge beat his fifty-three;
Virginia knew him, and all that coast,
For he was one of America's host —
And now there is nothing but English speech
For leagues and leagues, and reach on reach,
From the Old Dominion away to the Pole;
While the billows beat and the oceans roll
On the Three Americas.

And Sir JOHN HAWKINS, he was FIVE
And Devon was heaven to him,
He worshipped the water while he was alive
And hated the Don as the Devil's limb —
Hated him up to the brim!
He chased him over the Spanish Main,
He scoffed and defied the navies of Spain —
His cities he ravished again and again;
The Gulf it knew him, and all that coast,
For he was one of America's host —
And now there is nothing but English speech
For leagues and leagues, and reach on reach,
From the Rio Grandè away to the Pole;
While the billows beat and the oceans roll
On the Three Americas.

Five fearless knights have filled gallant graves
This many and many a day,
Some under the willows, some under the waves —
American sailors they;
And still in the West
Is their valor blest,
Where a banner bright
With the ocean's blue
And the red wrack's hue
And the spoondrift's white
Is smiling today
Through the salt sea spray
Upon American sailors.