The blooming rose and hardy thistle sprung.
Around her head an oaken wreath was seen,
Inwove with laurels of unfading green.
Such was the sculptured prow; from van to rear
Th’ artillery frowned, a black tremendous tier!
Embalmed with orient gum, above the wave
The swelling sides a yellow radiance gave.
On the broad stern, a pencil warm and bold,
That never servile rules of art controll’d,
An allegoric tale on high pourtray’d;