‘I have no sweetheart,’ said the lad; ‘But—absent long from one another— Great was the longing that I had To see my mother.’
‘And so thou shalt,’ Napoleon said, ‘Ye've both my favour fairly won; A noble mother must have bred So brave a son.’
He gave the tar a piece of gold, And, with a flag of truce, commanded He should be shipped to England Old, And safely landed.
Our sailor oft could scantly shift To find a dinner, plain and hearty; But never changed the coin and gift Of Bonaparté.
Campbell.
[LXVI]
‘YE MARINERS’
Ye Mariners of England! That guard our native seas; Whose flag has braved a thousand years The battle and the breeze! Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe! And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave! For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave: Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Britannia needs no bulwarks, No towers along the steep; Her march is o'er the mountain-waves, Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below, As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn; Till danger's troubled night depart, And the star of peace return. Then, then, ye ocean warriors! Our song and feast shall flow To the fame of your name, When the storm has ceased to blow; When the fiery fight is heard no more, And the storm has ceased to blow.