Page:Companion of mirth.pdf/21

21 Whose flag has brav'd a thousand years, The battle and the breeze, Your glorious Standard launch again, To match another foe; And sweep thro the deep, While the stormy tempests blow, While the battle rages long and loud, And the stormy tempests blow.

The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave, For the deck it was their field of fame, The ocean was their grave, where the Blake, the boast of freedom fought, Your manly hearts shall glow, As you sweep through the deep While the stormy tempests blow.

Britannia needs to Bulwark, No tow'r along the steep, Her march is o'er the mountain-wave, Her home is in the deep: With thunder from her native oak, She squells the flood below, Like the roar on the shore, When the stormy tempesta blow.

The meteor flag of Britain, Shell yet terrific burn, Till danger's troubled night depart, And the star of peace return; Then, then ye ocean-warriors, Our song and least'shall flow, To the fame of yotir 'name, When the trumpets cease to blow, When the fiery fight is heard no more, And the tempest cease to blow.