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Lyr Req: Nelson's Drum

DigiTrad:
LORD NELSON
NELSON'S FAREWELL


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GUEST,d-alex@dircon.co.uk 18 Nov 02 - 07:01 PM
GUEST,adavis@truman.edu 18 Nov 02 - 11:08 PM
GUEST 18 Nov 02 - 11:16 PM
MMario 19 Nov 02 - 08:28 AM
greg stephens 19 Nov 02 - 08:42 AM
KingBrilliant 19 Nov 02 - 09:12 AM
Schantieman 19 Nov 02 - 01:27 PM
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Subject: Nelson's Drum
From: GUEST,d-alex@dircon.co.uk
Date: 18 Nov 02 - 07:01 PM

I've been looking for this traditional song for years! Can anyone help?


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Subject: Lyr Add: THE ADMIRAL'S GHOST (Alfred Noyes)
From: GUEST,adavis@truman.edu
Date: 18 Nov 02 - 11:08 PM

Your query brings to mind a poem I loved as a kid -- read it in a creepy book called "Mystery Tales for Boys and Girls." I remembered just enough to find it on the net. If it's what you had in mind, enjoy. If it's not -- well, enjoy anyway; it's a good pseudo-ballad:

THE ADMIRAL'S GHOST

By Alfred Noyes

I tell you a tale tonight
Which a seaman told to me,
With eyes that gleamed in the lanthorn light
And a voice as low as the sea.

You could almost hear the stars
Twinkling up in the sky,
And the old wind woke and moaned in the spars
And the same old waves went by.

Singing the same old song
As ages and ages ago,
While he froze my blood in that deep-sea night
With the things he seemed to know.

A bare foot pattered on deck;
Ropes creaked; then ... all grew still,
And he pointed his finger straight in my face
And growled, as a sea-dog will.

"Do 'ee know who Nelson was?
That pore little shrivelled form
With the patch on his eye and the pinned-up sleeve
And a soul like a North Sea storm ?

"Ask of the Devonshire men !
They know, and they'll tell you true;
He wasn't the pore little chawed-up chap
That Hardy thought he knew.

"He wasn't the man you think !
His patch was a dern disguise !
For he knew that they'd find him out, d'you see,
If they looked him in both his eyes.

He was twice as big as he seemed;
But his clothes were cunningly made.
He'd both of his hairy arms alright !
The sleeve was a trick of the trade.

You've heard of sperrits, no doubt;
Well there's more in the matter than that !
But he wasn't the patch and he wasn't the sleeve,
And he wasn't the laced cocked-hat.

Nelson was just .... a Ghost !
You may laugh ! But the Devonshire men
They knew that he'd come when England called,
And they know that he'll come again.

I'll tell you the way it was
(For none of the landsmen know),
And to tell it you right, you must go a-starn
Two hundred years or so.
   
"The waves were lapping and slapping
The same as they are today;
And Drake lay dying aboard his ship
In Nobre Dios Bay.

The scent of foreign flowers
Came floating all around;
'But I'd give my soul for the smell o' the pitch,'
Says he, 'in Plymouth Sound.

" 'What shall I do,' he says,
'When the guns begin to roar,
An' England wants me, and me not there
To shatter 'er fores once more ?'

" (You've heard what he said, maybe,
But I'll mark you the p'ints again;
For I want you to box your compass right
And get my story plain.)

" 'You must take my drum', he says,
'To the old sea-wall at home;
And if ever you strike that drum,' he says,
'Why, strike me blind, I'll come !

" 'If England needs me, dead
Or living, I'll rise that day !
I'll rise from the darkness under the sea
Ten thousand miles away.'

"That's what he said; and he died;
An' his pirates, listening roun'
With their crimson doublets and jewelled swords
That flashed as the sun went down.

"They sewed him up in his shroud
With a round-shot top and toes,
To sink him under the salt-sharp sea
Where all good seamen go.

They lowered him down in the deep,
And there in the sunset light
They boomed a broadside over his grave,
As meaning to say 'Good night.'

"They sailed away in the dark
To the dear little isle they knew;
And they hung his drum by the old sea-wall
The same as he told them too.
   

"Two hundred years went by,
And the guns began to roar,
And England was fighting hard for her life,
As ever she fought of yore.

" 'It's only my dead that count,'
She said, as she says today;
"It isn't the ships and it isn't the guns
'Ull sweep Trafalgar's Bay.'

"D'you guess who Nelson was ?
You may laugh, but it's true as true !
There was more in that pore little chawed-up chap
Than ever his best friend knew.

"The foe was creepin' close,
In the dark, to our white-cliffed isle;
They were ready to leap at England's throat,
When ..O, you may smile, you may smile;

"But .. ask of the Devenshire men;
For they heard in the dead of night
The roll of a drum, and they saw him pass
On a ship all shining white.

"He stretched out his dead cold face
And he sailed in the grand old way !
The fishes had taken an eye and his arm,
But he swept Trafalgar's Bay.

"Nelson .. was Francis Drake !
O, what matters the uniform,
Or the patch on your eye or your pinned-up sleeve,
If your soul's like a North Sea storm ?"


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Subject: Lyr Add: DRAKE'S DRUM (Sir Henry Newbolt)
From: GUEST
Date: 18 Nov 02 - 11:16 PM

DRAKE'S DRUM
(Sir Henry Newbolt)

Drake he's in his hammock an' a thousand miles away,
(Capten, art tha sleepin' there below?)
Slung atween the round shot in Nombre Dios Bay,
An' dreamin' arl the time O' Plymouth Hoe.
Yarnder lumes the Island, yarnder lie the ships,
Wi' sailor lads a-dancing' heel-an'-toe,
An' the shore-lights flashin', an' the night-tide dashin',
He see et arl so plainly as he saw et long ago.

Drake he was a Devon man, an' ruled the Devon seas,
(Capten, art tha' sleepin' there below?)
Roving' tho' his death fell, he went wi' heart at ease,
A' dreamin' arl the time o' Plymouth Hoe.
"Take my drum to England, hang et by the shore,
Strike et when your powder's runnin' low;
If the Dons sight Devon, I'll quit the port o' Heaven,
An' drum them up the Channel as we drumm'd them long ago."

Drake he's in his hammock till the great Armadas come,
(Capten, art tha sleepin' there below?)
Slung atween the round shot, listenin' for the drum,
An' dreamin arl the time o' Plymouth Hoe.
Call him on the deep sea, call him up the Sound,
Call him when ye sail to meet the foe;
Where the old trade's plyin' an' the old flag flyin'
They shall find him ware and wakin', as they found him long ago!

Sir Henry Newbolt


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Subject: RE: Nelson's Drum
From: MMario
Date: 19 Nov 02 - 08:28 AM

Midi for 'Drake's Drum' is at Mudcat midi page - courtesy of Malcolm Douglas.

Drake's Drum


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Subject: RE: Nelson's Drum
From: greg stephens
Date: 19 Nov 02 - 08:42 AM

Ah me! Poems about Nelson and Drake. meanwhile, the BBC Great Britons series seems set to catapult Ladi Di into Britain's greatest person ever in the popular vote. Fashions change very quickly, don't they?


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Subject: RE: Nelson's Drum
From: KingBrilliant
Date: 19 Nov 02 - 09:12 AM

That Great Britons thing is a joke! Great revenue-earner though. But what is the POINT of voting? scratches head (probably nits)


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Subject: RE: Nelson's Drum
From: Schantieman
Date: 19 Nov 02 - 01:27 PM

Very little. If the sainted Di & John lennon can get in the top ten (not to mention Michael-bloody-Crawford at no. 17 - I ask you!) it clearly says more about the voters than the candidates. What about Elgar, if a musician is to be in?! Henry Wood? - he could be said to have started something!

There's also the question of the presenters. Jeremy Clarkson - however much of a wazzock he is at other things - did a brilliant job of presenting the case for Brunel. The woman (whose name I can't recall - that tells you something) who did my hero, Nelson, was, not to put too fine a point upon it, pretty pathetic! No wonder they're where they are in the ranking!

Serious thread creep here! Still, at least that's off my chest!

Steve


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