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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519265" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Death Of Admiral Blake</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">(August 7th, 1657)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Laden with spoil of the South, fulfilled with the glory of achievement,<br>And freshly crowned with never-dying fame,<br>Sweeping by shores where the names are the names of the victories of England,<br>Across the Bay the squadron homeward came.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Proudly they came, but their pride was the pomp of a funeral at midnight,<br>When dreader yet the lonely morrow looms;<br>Few are the words that are spoken, and faces are gaunt beneath the torchlight<br>That does but darken more the nodding plumes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Low on the field of his fame, past hope lay the Admiral triumphant,<br>And fain to rest him after all his pain;<br>Yet for the love that he bore to his own land, ever unforgotten,<br>He prayed to see the western hills again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fainter than stars in a sky long gray with the coming of the daybreak,<br>Or sounds of night that fade when night is done,<br>So in the death-dawn faded the splendour and loud renown of warfare,<br>And life of all its longings kept but one.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oh! to be there for an hour when the shade draws in beside the hedgerows,<br>And falling apples wake the drowsy noon:<br>Oh! for the hour when the elms grow sombre and human in the twilight,<br>And gardens dream beneath the rising moon.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Only to look once more on the land of the memories of childhood,<br>Forgetting weary winds and barren foam:<br>Only to bid farewell to the combe and the orchard and the moorland,<br>And sleep at last among the fields of home!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So he was silently praying, till now, when his strength was ebbing faster,<br>The Lizard lay before them faintly blue;<br>Now on the gleaming horizon the white cliffs laughed along the coast-line,<br>And now the forelands took the shapes they knew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There lay the Sound and the Island with green leaves down beside the water,<br>The town, the Hoe, the masts with sunset fired----<br>Dreams! ay, dreams of the dead! for the great heart faltered on the threshold,<br>And darkness took the land his soul desired.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sir+Henry+Newbolt">Sir Henry Newbolt</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519265" data-title="The Death Of Admiral Blake de Sir Henry Newbolt" data-description="(August 7th, 1657)

Laden with spoil of the South, fulfilled with the glory of achievement,
And freshly crowned with never-dying fame,
Sweeping by shores where the names are the names of the victories of England,
Across the Bay the squadron homewa..."></div>
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