Their toil rewarded and their daring blest!
Dismissed at length from duty nobly done
They wane in quiet ’neath the noontide sun,
Recal the dangers of their byegone wars,
And boast appealing to their manhood’s scars.
On in thy race of glory, conqueress, on!
For every age thy sea-girt realm is won!
Think not the fortress which thy shores uprear,
Nor thy rock bulwarks shall inspire such fear,
Nor the brave thousands who obey thy call,