Queen of the Nations, Mistress of the Seas?
Must all thy glories thus obscurely end—
A rag of Empire fluttering to the breeze!
And shall Britannia vail to such as these,
Barbarian traffickers in base turmoil,
The sceptre at whose wave Oppression flees?
No, no; while springs a leaf o’er all her soil,
Shall men too spring up there to mock Sedition’s toil!
XLI.