Not by vague augury, nor omen slight, I view thy name through endless ages bright; While thy firm crews still prodigal of life Insatiate burn for fame and dare the strife. No coward fear they know, while stands erect The mighty oak with boughs umbrageous decked; Majestic, high, with knotted trunk, the Queen Of woods! Hereafter, o’er the waters seen ’Mid the dim midnight of the sounding storm Aloft ’twill rear the terrors of its form; In vain the roaring surges round it break, In vain the winds their uncurbed vengeance wreak, Throned on such pow’rs, surrounded by the sea, The circling waves have scarce one fear for thee. Thou know’st not ills that towns besieged await, When hostile columns thunder at the gate; Pitch their dread camp with fatal ramparts round, And with fierce arms enclose the leaguered ground. Such is to thee the base of lasting fame, To Heav’n Britannia still the dearest name! Gladly I view the glories of the fight, Perpetual witnesses of deathless might, To show, bright conqueress, nations yet to be, What dared, what did the mistress of the sea. ’Mid these the day with praise eternal blest Earns memory’s tribute most, when, direful pest, Denouncing ruin to the world, while she Dared grasp the sceptre of the unconquer’d sea, Wild with new license, mad with hatred’s heat France, grieved and humbled, viewed her ruined fleet! Saw how all hopes one fatal wound could mar When well-manned squadrons armed their prows for war! When the sky trembled, and o’er Ushant’s tide Red glared the smoke and sickly light supplied. I see the conquered lines, what time proud Spain With tattered sailcloths thickly strewed the main; How Cadiz quailed when back the shattered fleet Sought, in the port it left, a safe retreat. Why should I tell what smile of Vict’ry beamed, When Rhine’s fair wave with Belgic slaughter gleamed; When humbled waters tow’rds the sea it sped, Mad that its mouths with native blood were red, While England’s thunders rolled above its rocky bed? I see afar the domes that crown the tide, Where Thames uncounted sails in triumph glide: Here, the brave souls whom manly courage drove Through the deep’s perils in a holy love Of country, find in thy maternal breast Their toil rewarded and their daring blest! Dismissed at length from duty nobly done They wane in quiet ’neath the noontide sun, Recal the dangers of their byegone wars, And boast appealing to their manhood’s scars.