The English pines, as blown by Russian winds,

It’s said, once swam th’Atlantic Sea to plunge

Into the Caribbean seas and plunder;

For Hornigold who captured Concord mighty

Turned over peaceful Concord to his mate,

And Edward took the ship and made it strong,

With forty mighty cannons cased beneath,

And lighted fuses always burning bright

About his face, with shaggy barb’rous beard,

They called him Blackbeard, ever feared by all,

And whom he knocked aside and left astray,

Some noble Stede would carry then ashore

His flotsam jetsam rag-tag fragment prey

Would cower ‘fore the great Queen Anne’s Revenge.

Yet ne’er he laid a hand upon them, any,

But trusting to his raging, fearsome face,

He ne’er began the fighting, went to Charleston:

He ransomed ev’ry rag-bone safe and sound.

He ran the pines aground in Carolina

On Beaufort sandbar, waves resounding ‘round.

He joined the seas again and broke the waters

Breaking the breakers, brushing off the rush

Of flowing sea, the salt encrusting ash

And pine and oak, and strength knew bindings none

Nor fetters: slaves within. And slave without

To only Blackbeard’s will. Then Maynard came

Out from the fog: far off, through flaxen strands

His keen eyes sought the pirate king, the fisher

King who had reapt the oceans. Fight ensued

In clatt’ring battle, grim and grisly, blood

And grime. And death dealt blows of might. And shorn,

Shorn from the roots, by cutlass sliced and sheared,

Blackbeard like wool dark fell, descended fast

And slammed his bulk down on the ashen deck.


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