MARINERS OF ENGLAND,

A NAVAL ODE.

I.

YE Mariners of England!

That guard our native seas;

Whose flag has brav'd, a thousand years,

The battle, and the breeze!

Your glorious standard launch again

To match another foe!

And sweep through the deep,

While the stormy tempests blow;

While the battle rages loud and long,

And the stormy tempests blow.

For the deck it was their field of fame,

And Ocean was their grave:

Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell,

Your manly hearts shall glow,

As ye sweep through the deep,

While the stormy tempests blow;

While the battle rages loud and long,

And the stormy tempests blow.

III.

Britannia needs no bulwark,

No towers along the steep;

Her march is o'er the mountain waves,

Her home is on the deep.

With thunders from her native oak,

She quells the floods below

As they roar on the shore,

When the stormy tempests blow;

When the battle rages loud and long,

And the stormy tempests blow.

IV.

The meteor flag of England

Shall yet terrific burn;

Till danger's troubled night depart,

To the fame of your name,

When the storm has ceas'd to blow;

When the fiery fight is heard no more,

And the storm has ceas'd to blow.

GLENARA.

HEARD ye yon pibrach sound sad in the gale, Where a band cometh slowly with weeping and wail?

'Tis the chief of Glenara laments for his dear;

And her sire, and the people, are call'd to her bier.