Her fuller franchise—what would that be worth,
Her ancient fame of ‘Free,’
Were she—a fallen State?
Her dauntless Army scattered and so small—
Her island myriads fed from alien lands,
The Fleet of England is her all-in-all;
Her Fleet is in your hands,
And in her Fleet her Fate.
You, you that have the ordering of her Fleet,
If you should only compass her disgrace,