CAPTAIN FRANCISCA
No quarter give or take!
The decks are gore;
Fresh gaps the Spaniards make,
Charging anew:
"Death to the buccaneer!
No more our fleet shall fear,
That sails the Mer du Nord,
This corsair crew!"
—On thy lone strand was made,
San Salvador,
One grave where two were laid
For bane or boon!
The last of all their race,
To each an equal place.
Guards well that sombre shore
The still lagoon.
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