The Bright Medusa

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She's the daughter of the breeze,
She's the darling of the seas,
  And we call her, if you please, the bright _Medu--sa_;
From beneath her bosom bare
To the snakes among her hair
  She's a flash o' golden light, the bright _Medu--sa_.

When the ensign dips above
And the guns are all for love,
  She's as gentle as a dove, the bright _Medu--sa_;
But when the shot's in rack
And her forestay flies the Jack,
  He's a merry man would slight the bright _Medu--sa_.

When she got the word to go
Up to Monte Video,
  There she found the river low, the bright _Medu--sa_;
So she tumbled out her guns
And a hundred of her sons,
  And she taught the Dons to fight the bright _Medu--sa_.

When the foeman can be found
With the pluck to cross her ground,
  First she walks him round and round, the bright _Medu--sa_;
Then she rakes him fore and aft
Till he's just a jolly raft,
  And she grabs him like a kite, the bright _Medu--sa_.

She's the daughter of the breeze,
She's the darling of the seas,
  And you'll call her, if you please, the bright _Medu--sa_;
For till England's sun be set--
And it's not for setting yet--
  She shall bear her name by right, the bright _Medu--sa_.

© Sir Henry Newbolt