“But, when yardarm and yardarm met,
Our cannon swept his decks amain.
In vain that boasted flag he set
Which long had awed the subject main.
“In vain unto the mast he nails
That flag; for, carried by the deck,
Like shattered oaks in wintry gales,
Each, crashing, falls—a lumbering wreck.
“No Frenchman now the conflict wage—
The Briton finds another foe,