A Lamentable Relation of a Fearfull Fight at Sea

In every place where men did meet,
The talk was of the Spanish Fleet,
Which the stout Dutchmen with great boast,
Besieg'd upon our English coast:
Now every severall expectation
Is satisfi'd by this relation.
Great pitie tis that any pen
Should note such hate twixt christian men.

It was a pittifull conclusion,
Of Christian bloud so much effusion,
That who the storie reads or hears,
If he can scape the shedding tears,
Tis what the writter could not misse,
When he the storie wrote of this.
Great pitie this that any pen,
Should note such hate twixt Christian men.

This Spanish Navie (as tis said)
To th'Cardinall Infanto's aid,
Was carrying men and money store,
Hoping to land on Flanders shore:
But their intention now is voide,
The Dutch hath them almost destroy'd.
Great pitie tis that any pen,
Should note such hate twixt Christian men.

The Hollender who long hath been
Against the Spaniard armde with spléene,
Waits all occasions that he may,
To circumvent him any way,
As now for him he laid a traine
To catch him far enough from Spaine.
Great pitie tis that any pen,
Should note such hate twixt Christan men.

The Spaniards being pestered sore,
With what they could have wisht on shore,
Unarmed men for sea unfit,
Few of them being preparde for it,
And lying long on our cold clime,
Many were thrown ore board that time:
Great pitie tis that any pen
Should note such hate twixt Christian men.

The Hollender with fresh supply,
Insulteth ore his enemie,
Vowing the totall overthrow
Of th'Spanish Navie at one blow.
To say the truth their odds was much;
Fourescore Spaniards, sixscore Dutch.
Great pitie tis that any pen, &c.

On Friday morning that sad time,
This bloudy battell was in prime,
The stately Admirall of Spaine,
Weigh'd Anchor, and put forth to th'Main,
The Hollend Admirall did the like,
One did against another strike.
Great pitie tis that any pen
Should note such hate twixt Christian men.

A certain space they did abide,
Fighting all stoutly on each side,
So that the Ordinance of the Dutch,
Hath Lower Deale spoild very much.
Out of the Town the people fled,
Yet many cattle were struck dead.
Great pitie tis that any pen
Should note such hate twixt Christian men.

At last the Spanish Navie stout,
(Orecome with force) was put to rout,
And of their ships full twentie foure,
Were gravelled on our English shore,
At Dover and at other Ports,
Where ships for saftie oft resorts.
Great pitie tis that any pen
Should note such hate twixt Christian men.

Eight of the Spanish ships that day
Were burnt and utterly cast away,
The Admirall when he did see
His ship perforce must taken be,
He with a manly resolution,
Set it on fire in the conclusion.
Great pitie tis that any pen
Should note snch hate twixt Christian men.

It was a spictacle of woe,
(Grant Lord that time the like nere show)
To sée men from a fired ship.
How they out of the Port-holes scip,
Each one pronouncing this good word,
Have mercy on my soule O Lord.
Great pitie tis that any pen
Should note such hate twixt Christian men.

What losse the Hollander hath had,
Was not in this relation sad,
Mentiond at all, but at the last,
Will bring to memorie things forepast,
But certainly we may coniecture,
That Canons preach a bloudy Lecture.
Great pitie tis that any pen
Should note such hate twixt Christian men.

A thousand men or rather more,
Are of the Spaniards swom on shore,
At Dover, Deal, and Waymouth, they
Are living all this present day,
This was the fiercest fight at Sea,
That hath been fought this many a day.
Great pitie tis that any pen
Should note such hate twixt Christian men.

A multitude the sea cast up,
Which all had tasted of deaths cup,
Some without heads, some wanting armes,
Some legs, all shewing what great harmes
Proceed from that inveterate spléene,
Which hath long time inventing been.
Great pitie tis that any pen, &c.

I oft have heard that winters thunder,
To us produceth Sommers wonder,
The fourteenth of Ianuary last,
Thunder and Lightnings made us agast,
And now this thundring on the main,
Hapt on our coast'twixt Holland and Spain
Great pitie tis that any pen, &c.

O that all Christians would accord,
To fight the battell of our Lord,
Against the Infidel and Turke,
That upon our dissention worke,
He counts it a most politicke matter,
Alwayes to fish in troubled water.
But God grant peace, and right all wrongs,
By giving right, where right belongs.