(_Turning and extending his hand towards the_ QUEEN). Behold the fountain, the well-head of our progress. When tyranny shall oppress, and prosperity waver, England will look back with hope to her maiden Queen. When her armies conquer, and her navies triumph, when her flag o’er sea and land shall sway the mighty and the free. England will turn with pride to the origin of her power—The reign of her maiden Queen. When the traitor in the council, or the coward in the field, shall betray his country, his honour, his faith, his God, England will fling aside the infamy and take courage from her maiden Queen. When her empire shall gird the globe, with arts, science, commerce, and peace—When the elements themselves shall obey her, and flash from land to land, from sea to sea, her mandates of liberty and law, England will look to her maiden Queen as the starting point of it all. (_He looks around_, _and raising his goblet pronounces the toast_).—The Queen! God bless her! ALL. The Queen, God bless her. Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah. _Tremendous cheering_, _taken up by the men on the river_, _and on the land_. _The sailors on the Golden Hind in great commotion and enthusiasm endeavour to rush forward to the_ QUEEN—_The officers’ exert themselves to restrain them_. HOWARD, LEICESTER, _and the great men gather round_ DRAKE, _who is __much affected_. _The_ QUEEN _is overcome with emotion_! LORD HUNSDON, _great chamberlain_, _who is standing beside her_, _comes forward_. LORD HUNSDON. Silence, and order! It is Her Majesty’s command that her poet shall commemorate the occasion? (_The poet comes forward with a paper_. _Cheers_!) SEVERAL VOICES. The Corsairs, song! The Corsairs, song. SONG OF THE CORSAIRS. Oh! We’re the boys of thunder! The Rovers of the main; We’ll strike with awe and wonder The pride of tyrant Spain: Her giant ships are lumber, Their aim is slavery— We count not size or number— We’ll drive thorn from the sea! CHORUS.—Her Tars will fight for England, Till Death or Victory! Nor French, nor Spaniard, here shall land! Hurrah! Brave boys, Hurrah! Proud Spain shall know we are the men Who boldly board the foe; Who burn or plunder all we can, And others sink below. We are to storm and battle bred, Our Island, as of yore, The home where Freedom lifts her head; And rules from shore to shore! _Chorus_. Each Saxon and each Dane sire A sea-king was of old— They left to us, their race, the fire Of soul, which made them bold; Their Empire was the deep sea— It is our heritage, Where we’ll neither yield nor flee! We’ll tame the tyrant’s rage! _Chorus_.