Page:Potipharswifeoth00arnoiala.djvu/127

 Collingwood close? And Lake?

And Nelson, from his knees, come brave and gay

To give his bright blood for us? and the array

Of liners, in his wake?

Gods! how we see

Bullets and round-shot rend thy bellying white!

And scarlet smoke-wreaths from the rattling fight

Enwrap thee, weather and lee!

And how, below,

'Mid blast of such red thunders, rife with death,

Such terror as no tempest witnesseth,

Our British Jacks, aglow,

Fight on for Britain's Crown

As if each man were not King's man, but King!

And what cheers split the sky, when fluttering,

Flag after flag comes down!

And then—there! there!

While thy scorched folds flap triumph—that 'curst ball!