When the clarion’s voice, and the cannon’s roar,
Bear terror and ruin from shore to shore.
I come in wrath, and the storm-clouds fly,
In blackening folds through the darksome sky;
And the mariner wakes from his joyful dream,
Midst the tempest’s roar, and the lightning’s gleam;
In the fathomless vaults of the ocean’s caves,
He must rest ’mid the tumult of angry waves.
I am fearless of sky, or of earth or sea,
But soar over all with pinions free;