Of all the battles gained at sea,
This was the rarest victory
Since Philip's grand Armado.

I will not name the rebel Blake,
He fought for horson Cromwell's sake,
And yet was forc'd three days to take
To quell the Dutch bravado.

So now we've seen them take to flight,
This way, or that, where'er they might,
To windward or to leeward;

Here's to King Charles and here's to James,
And here's to all the Captain's names,

And here's to all the Suffolk dames,

And here's the House of Stuart.

FROM THE SUFFOLK GARLAND.

THE RELIEF OF LONDONDERRY.

UPON the shattered walls and roofs of Londonderry town, And on the fertile country round, the sun shone brightly down;

It gleamed upon the thousand tents, there dotted o'er the

plain,

And on the Foyle that placidly flowed onward tow'rds the main.

The foeman lay without the walls; stern famine reigned

within ;

The burghers' frames were gaunt and weak, their faces pale and thin;

With feeble gait and downcast looks they paced each ruined street,

Yet aye were ready gallantly the foe in arms to meet.

And tender-hearted women moved about with sunken eyes, Half dead themselves yet creeping on—for woman's love ne'er dies

To cheer a father, brother, son, or husband, at his post Upon the rampart, keeping guard against King James's host.

For three long months the siege had sapped strength, energy for all,

Yet still the line of sentries stood within the crumbling

wall,

With lean white hands that scarce retained their

in their grasp,

weapons

With nerveless arms that scarce could hold an infant in their clasp.

The great cathedral bell boomed out o'er town and tented field,

And like a sad funereal knell that solemn warning pealed: Once more within the holy fane went up the anguished

prayer,

The last appeal of those whose hearts were breaking with despair.

Then rose the pastor's trembling voice, grown weak with want and pain,

But as he warmed his tones grew firm, their strength returned again;

Like the loud trumpet's blast his words rang through each echoing aisle,

And eyes flashed bright, and on each lip broke forth a proud, stern smile.

"Fear not, my brethren, for our God is on His children's side, Through life, in death, His strong right arm shall be our shield and guide;

Be ye but true to Him and He will aye be true to you, Death will but tear away the veil that hides Him from our view."

The sun had set, the twilight gloom was deepening in the

sky,

And, faint and few, pale evening stars began to shine on

high;

The weak wan citizens looked forth upon the silent night, As those to whom next morn brings death look on the fading light.

The watch on the Cathedral tower looked out towards

the sea,

And as he looked his heart leaped up-"I see a sail !" quoth he,

"Another, and another yet! They come to bring us aid! Our God hath heard our prayer and sends the help so long delayed!"

"They come! they come !"-the stirring cry rang out o'er street and square,

And like a message sent from heav'n it thrilled the evening air;

Each heart was bounding high with joy in that war-beaten

town,

As to the shattered walls in groups the burghers hurried down.

Then all throughout the Irish camp went forth a call to

arms,

The bugles rang, the cannon rent the air with their alarms, The river banks were quickly lined with cruel Galmoy's horse,

With Butler's ranks of infantry, and Eustace's wild force.

Long lines of batteries opened on the ships as they advanced

Towards the place where o'er the boom light warning ripples glanced,

Telling of the stout barrier that lay concealed beneath, Studded with rows of stakes like some sea monster's bristling teeth.

But on and on those vessels came, though loud the cannon roared,

And through the shivering air right fast the iron deathstorm poured;

Brave Captain Browning led the way in his good ship Mountjoy,

Eager to save the dear old town that knew him as a boy.

With every swelling sail wide spread right at the boom he dashed,

And loudly cheered his hardy crew as the dread barrier

crashed;

But louder came the answering cheers from the well guarded strand,

As from the shock the quivering ship recoiled and struck the land.

Then quicker rolled the musketry, and deeper roared the

guns,

And fiercer now pealed forth the cheers of England's gallant sons,

While from the walls the citizen looked forth upon the strife, And prayed for those who came to save his home, his goods, his life.

What wild and hot anxiety the townsmen felt that night, As through the fire-lit gloom they watched the fierce contested fight!

Powerless to strike, although they heard in every cannonboom

The battle-hammer on Fate's anvil shaping out their doom.

"O God, be with them in the fight!" they murmured hoarse and low,

Their feverish eyes reflecting back the battle's lurid glow; "Father of might, O bless their arms, for if they fail we die !"

Half checked by stiffled sobs burst forth that bitter bleeding cry.