Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE BROOKLYN AT SANTIAGO, by WALLACE RICE


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE BROOKLYN AT SANTIAGO, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Twixt clouded heights spain hurls to doom
Last Line: On such a ship!
Alternate Author Name(s): Groot, Cecil De
Subject(s): Brooklyn (ship); Santiago, Cuba; Schley, Winfield Scott (1839-1909); Sea Battles; Spanish-american War (1898); Naval Warfare


'TWIXT clouded heights Spain hurls to doom
Ships stanch and brave,
Majestic, forth they flash and boom
Upon the wave.

El Morro raises eyes of hate
Far out to sea,
And speeds Cervera to his fate
With cannonry.

The Brooklyn o'er the deep espies
His flame-wreathed side:
She sets her banners on the skies
In fearful pride.

On, to the harbor's mouth of fire,
Fierce for the fray,
She darts, an eagle from his eyre,
Upon her prey.

She meets the brave Teresa there --
Sigh, sigh for Spain! --
And beats her clanging armor bare
With glittering rain.

The bold Vizcaya's lightnings glance
Into the throng
Where loud the bannered Brooklyn chants
Her awful song.

Down swoops, in one tremendous curve,
Our Commodore;
His broadsides roll, the foemen swerve
Toward the shore.

In one great round his Brooklyn turns
And, girdling there
This side and that with glory, burns
Spain to despair.

Frightful in onslaught, fraught with fate
Her missiles hiss:
The Spaniard sees, when all too late,
A Nemesis.

The Oquendo's diapason swells;
Then, torn and lame,
Her portholes turn to yawning wells,
Geysers of flame.

Yet fierce and fiercer breaks and cries
Our rifles' dread:
The doomed Teresa shudders -- lies
Stark with her dead.

How true the Brooklyn's battery speaks
Eulate knows,
As the Vizcaya staggers, shrieks
Her horrent woes.

Sideward she plunges: nevermore
Shall Biscay feel
Her heart throb for the ship that wore
Her name in steel.

The Oquendo's ports a moment shone,
As gloomed her knell;
She trembles, bursts -- the ship is gone
Headlong to hell.

The fleet Colon in lonely flight --
Spain's hope, Spain's fear! --
Sees, and it lends her wings of fright,
Schley's pennant near.

The fleet Colon scuds on alone --
God, how she runs! --
And ever hears behind her moan
The Brooklyn's guns.

Our ruthless cannon o'er the flood
Roar and draw nigh;
Spain's ensign stained with gold and blood,
Falls from on high.

The world she gave the World has passed --
Gone, with her power --
Dead, 'neath the Brooklyn's thunder-blast,
In one great hour.

The bannered Brooklyn! gallant crew,
And gallant Schley!
Proud is the flag his sailors flew
Along the sky.

Proud is his country: for each star
Our Union wears,
The fighting Brooklyn shows a scar --
So much he dares.

God save us war upon the seas;
But, if it slip,
Send such a chief, with men like these,
On such a ship!





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net