By John Henry Newman

Tyre of the West, and glorying in the name

More than in Faith’s pure fame!

O trust not crafty fort nor rock renown’d

Earn’d upon hostile ground;

Wielding Trade’s master-keys, at thy proud will

To lock or loose its waters, England! trust not still.

Dread thine own power! Since haughty Babel’s prime,

High towers have been man’s crime.

Since her hoar age, when the huge moat lay bare,