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Oh gloriously upon the deep The gallant vessel rides, And she is mistress of the winds, And mistress of the tides.

And never but for her tall ships Had England been so proud! Or before the might of the Island Queen The Kings of the earth had bowed.

But, alas! for the widow and orphan's tear, When the death-flag sweeps the wave; Alas, that the laurel of Victory Must grow but upon the grave!

aged widow with one only child, And even he was far away at sea: Narrow and mean the street wherein she dwelt,