Page:Emperor's wedding, or, Bonaparte's 2d marriage.pdf/5



The ſpirit of your fathers
 * ſhall ſtart from ev'ry wave,

For the deck it was their field of fame,
 * the ocean was their grave;

Where Blake the boaſt of fredom fought,
 * your manly hearts ſhall glow,

As ye ſweep o'er the deep,
 * while the ſtormy tempeſts blow.


 * While the battle rages, &c.

Britannia needs no bulwark,
 * no t w'r along the ſteep;

Her march is o'er the mountain-wave,
 * her home is on the deep:

With thunder from her native oak,
 * ſhe quells the floods below,

Lide the roar on the ſhore,
 * when the ſtormy tempeſts blow.

The meteor Flag of England
 * ſhall yet terrific burn!

Till danger's troubled night depart,
 * and the Star of Peace return;

Then, then ye ocean-warriors,
 * our ſong and feaſt ſhall flow