He bounds o’er thy brooks, and he climbs thy wild rocks,
Health and vigour inhales from the breeze;
Despising in manhood the tempest’s rude shocks,
Fearless quits his dear home for the seas.
Lo! the canvas it swell’d: from the banks of the Tyne,
The vessel scuds swiftly along;
From his eye independant, see stern valour shine,
As he hums a Northumbrian song.
Now the battle-day comes, and far, far from his shore,
The squadrons of France meet his eyes;