Henry Wadsworth Longfellow — A Ballad or the French Fleet

A fleet with flags arrayed        &nbsp Sailed from the port of Brest, And the Admiral's ship displayed        &nbsp The signal: "Steer southwest." For this Admiral D'Anville        &nbsp Had sworn by cross and crown To ravage with fire and steel        &nbsp Our helpless Boston Town. There were rumors in the street,        &nbsp In the houses there was fear Of the coming of the fleet,        &nbsp And the danger hovering near. And while from mouth to mouth        &nbsp Spread the tidings of dismay, I stood in the Old South,        &nbsp Saying humbly: "Let us pray! "O Lord! we would not advise;        &nbsp But if in thy Providence A tempest should arise        &nbsp To drive the French fleet hence, And scatter it far and wide,        &nbsp Or sink it in the sea, We should be satisfied,        &nbsp And thine the glory be." This was the prayer I made,        &nbsp For my soul was all on flame, And even as I prayed        &nbsp The answering tempest came; It came with a mighty power,        &nbsp Shaking the windows and walls, And tolling the bell in the tower,        &nbsp As it tolls at funerals. The lightning suddenly        &nbsp Unsheathed its flaming sword, And I cried: "Stand still, and see        &nbsp The salvation of the Lord!" The heavens were black with cloud,        &nbsp The sea was white with hail, And ever more fierce and loud        &nbsp Blew the October gale. The fleet it overtook,        &nbsp And the broad sails in the van Like the tents of Cushan shook,        &nbsp Or the curtains of Midian. Down on the reeling decks        &nbsp Crashed the o'erwhelming seas; Ah, never were there wrecks        &nbsp So pitiful as these! Like a potter's vessel broke        &nbsp The great ships of the line; They were carried away as a smoke,        &nbsp Or sank like lead in the brine. O Lord! before thy path        &nbsp They vanished and ceased to be, When thou didst walk in wrath        &nbsp With thine horses through the sea!