[Lost, with her crew of three hundred boys, on the last day of her voyage, March 23, 1876. She foundered off Portsmouth, from which town many of the boys came.]
Up with the royals that top the white spread of her!...
It is mine--the little chamber, Mine alone. I had it from my forbears Years agone. Yet within its walls I see A most motley company, And they one and all claim me As their own. ...
We started from the Valley Pride, And Farnham way we went. We waited at the cover-side, But never found a scent. Then we tried the withy beds Which grow by Frensham town,...
There's a keen and grim old huntsman On a horse as white as snow; Sometimes he is very swift And sometimes he is slow. But he never is at fault, For he always hunts at view...
What of the bow? The bow was made in England: Of true wood, of yew-wood, The wood of English bows; So men who are free Love the old yew-tree And the land where the yew-tree grows. ...
Said Paul Leroy to Barrow, 'Though the breach is steep and narrow, If we only gain the summit Then it's odds we hold the fort. I have ten and you have twenty, And the thirty should be plenty,...
The horse is bedded down Where the straw lies deep. The hound is in the kennel; Let the poor hound sleep! And the fox is in the spinney By the run which he is haunting, And I'll lay an even guinea...