With fifteen hundred fighting men,
Alas! there were no more,
They fought with forty thousand then
Upon the bloody shore.
'Stand to it, noble pikeman,
And look you round about:
And shoot you right, you bow-men,
And we will keep them out:
You musquet and cailiver men,
Do you prove true to me,
I'll be the bravest man in fight,'
Says brave Lord Willoughby.
And then the bloody enemy
They fiercely did assail,
And fought it out most furiously,
Not doubting to prevail:
The wounded men on both sides fell
Most piteous for to see,
But nothing could the courage quell
Of brave Lord Willoughby.
For seven hours to all men's view
This fight endured sore,
Until our men so feeble grew
That they could fight no more;
And then upon dead horses
Full savourly they eat,
And drank the puddle water,
That could no better get.
When they had fed so freely,
They kneeled on the ground,
And praised God devoutly
For the favour they had found;
And bearing up their colours,
The fight they did renew,
And cutting tow'rds the Spaniard,
Five thousand more they slew.
The sharp steel-pointed arrows
And bullets thick did fly;
Then did our valiant soldiers
Charge on most furiously:
Which made the Spaniards waver,
They thought it best to flee:
They feared the stout behaviour
Of brave Lord Willoughby.
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