RECITATIVE
O’er Nelson’s tomb, with silent grief oppressed,
Britannia mourns her hero, now at rest;
But those bright laurels ne’er shall fade with years,
Whose leaves are watered by a nation’s tears.
AIR.
Twas in Trafalgar’s bay
We saw the Frenchmen lay;
Each heart was bounding then.
We scorn’d the foreign yoke,