Hawke
In seventeen hundred and fifty nine,When Hawke came swooping from the West,The French King's Admiral with twenty of the line,Was sailing forth, to sack us, out of Brest.The ports of France were crowded, the quays of France a-humWith thirty thousand soldiers marching to the drum,For bragging time was over and fighting time was comeWhen Hawke came swooping from the West.
'Twas long past noon of a wild November dayWhen Hawke came swooping from the West;He heard the breakers thundering in Quiberon BayBut he flew the flag for battle, line abreast.Down upon the quicksands roaring out of sightFiercely beat the storm-wind, darkly fell the night,But they took the foe for pilot and the cannon's glare for lightWhen Hawke came swooping from the West.
The Frenchmen turned like a covey down the windWhen Hawke came swooping from the West;One he sank with all hands, one he caught and pinned,And the shallows and the storm took the rest.
The guns that should have conquered us they rusted on the shore,The men that would have mastered us they drummed and marched no more,For England was England, and a mighty brood she boreWhen Hawke came swooping from the West.
Words in this poem
- seventeen a.
- One more than sixteen; ten and seven added; as, seventeen years. [OE. seventene, AS. seofontyne, i. e., seven- ten. Cf. Seventy.]
- thundering a.
- Emitting thunder.
- glare v. i.
- To shine with a bright, dazzling light. [OE. glaren, gloren; cf. AS. glær amber, LG. glaren to glow or burn like coals, D. gloren to glimmer; prob. akin to E. glass.]
- covey v. i.
- To brood; to incubate.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Hawke is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems: New and Old, Project Gutenberg ebook #24405; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Henry John Newbolt, Hawke, in Poems: New and Old (1912), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #24405, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/newbolt-poems/hawke.html, id L11388.
Form and metre
Hawke is 24 lines in 4 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is ABABCCCB, complete in 2 of its 4 stanzas. The metre is iambic hexameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 86%). 93% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.8 syllables. 33% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic hexameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABABCCCB nineA · westB · lineA · brestB · humC · drumC · comeC · westB
- 2 ABABCCCB dayA · westB · bayA · abreastB · sightC · nightC · lightC · westB
- 3 ABAB windA · westB · pinnedA · restB
- 4 AAA- shoreA · moreA · boreA · west
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic hexameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| In seventeen hundred and fifty nine, | 10 | ·/˘//˘·/˘· |
| When Hawke came swooping from the West, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| The French King's Admiral with twenty of the line, | 11 | ···/˘·/˘··· |
| Was sailing forth, to sack us, out of Brest. | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| The ports of France were crowded, the quays of France a-hum | 13 | ·····/˘······ |
| With thirty thousand soldiers marching to the drum, | 12 | ·/˘/˘/˘/˘··· |
| For bragging time was over and fighting time was come | 12 | ·/˘····/˘··· |
| When Hawke came swooping from the West. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| 'Twas long past noon of a wild November day | 11 | ·······˘/˘· |
| When Hawke came swooping from the West; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| He heard the breakers thundering in Quiberon Bay | 12 | ···/˘/˘····· |
| But he flew the flag for battle, line abreast. | 11 | ······/˘·˘/ |
| Down upon the quicksands roaring out of sight | 11 | ····/·/˘··· |
| Fiercely beat the storm-wind, darkly fell the night, | 11 | /˘····/˘··· |
| But they took the foe for pilot and the cannon's glare for light | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| When Hawke came swooping from the West. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| The Frenchmen turned like a covey down the wind | 11 | ·/˘···/˘··· |
| When Hawke came swooping from the West; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| One he sank with all hands, one he caught and pinned, | 11 | ··········· |
| And the shallows and the storm took the rest. | 10 | ··/˘······ |
| The guns that should have conquered us they rusted on the shore, | 14 | ·····/˘··/˘··· |
| The men that would have mastered us they drummed and marched no more, | 14 | ·····/˘······· |
| For England was England, and a mighty brood she bore | 13 | ·/˘·/˘··/˘··· |
| When Hawke came swooping from the West. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
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