Wild with new license, mad with hatred’s heat
France, grieved and humbled, viewed her ruined fleet!
Saw how all hopes one fatal wound could mar
When well-manned squadrons armed their prows for war!
When the sky trembled, and o’er Ushant’s tide
Red glared the smoke and sickly light supplied.
I see the conquered lines, what time proud Spain
With tattered sailcloths thickly strewed the main;
How Cadiz quailed when back the shattered fleet
Sought, in the port it left, a safe retreat.