Spacious Times, The

[On Drake's return from his filibustering expedition of 1580 the Queen went on board his ship at Deptford, and after partaking of a banquet conferred on him the honour of knighthood, at the same time declaring herself mightily pleased with all that he had done.]     I wish that I had flourished then,         When ruffs and raids were in the fashion,     When Shakespeare's art and Raleigh's pen         Encouraged patriotic passion;     For though I draw my happy breath         Beneath a Queen as good and gracious,     The times of Great Elizabeth         Were more conveniently spacious.     Large-hearted age of cakes and ale!         When, undeterred by nice conditions,     Good Master Drake would lightly sail         On little privateer commissions;     Careering round with sword and flame         And no pretence of polished manners,     He planted out in England's name         A most refreshing lot of banners.     Blest era, when the reckless tar,         Elated by a sense of duty,     Feared not to face his country's Bar         But freely helped himself to booty;     Returning home with bulging hold         The Queen would meet him, much excited,     Pronounce him worth his weight in gold         And promptly have the hero knighted.     No Extra Special, piping hot,         Broke out in unexpected Pyrrhics;     No Poet Laureate on the spot         Composed apologetic lyrics;     Transpiring slowly by-and-by,         The act was voted one of loyalty;     The nation winked the other eye,         And pocketed the usual royalty.     Ere Reuter yet had found his range,         These trifles done across the ocean     Produced upon the Stock Exchange         No preternatural emotion;     Not yet the Kaiserlich I AM         Made winged words and then repented;     He wrote as yet no telegram,         Nor was, in fact, himself invented.     No Justice Hawkins gauged the fault         Of irresponsible incursions;     The early Hawkins, gallant salt,         Knew well the charm of such diversions;     Men never saw that moving sight         When legal luminaries muster,     And very solemnly indict         A well-conducted filibuster.     No Member had the hardy nerve         To criticise our depredations     As unadapted to preserve         The perfect comity of nations;     No High Commissioner would doubt         If brigandage was quite judicial;     Indeed we mostly did without         This rather eminent Official.     No Ministry would care a rap         For theoretic arbitration;     They simply modified the map         To meet the latest annexation;     And so without appeal to law,         Or other needless waste of tissue,     The Lion, where he put his paw,         Remained and propagated issue.     To-day we wax exceeding fat         On lands our roving fathers raided;     And blush with holy horror at         Their lawless sons who do as they did;     No doubt the age improves a lot,         It grows more honest, more veracious;     But, as I said, the times are not         Quite so conveniently spacious.