The National Intelligencer And Washington Advertiser

Ye Gentlemen of England.

COMPOSED ON THE

Ye Mariners of England:

That guard our native Seas,

The battle and the breeze,

To match another foe.

And sweep thro' the deep,

While the stormy tempests blow--

While the battle rages loud and long

The spirits of your fathers

Shall start from ev'ry wave

For the deck it was their field

of fame

And Ocean was their grave

Where Blake (the boast of

Your manly hearts shall glow."

As ye sweep thro' the deep

When the stormy tempests

blow--

When the battle rages loud and

long

And the stormy tempests blow



Britannia needs no bulwark,

No towers along the steep;

Her march is o'er the mountain-wave,

Her home is on the deep.

With thunders from her native oak

She awes 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.



The meteor flag of England

Shall yet terrific burn,

Till Danger's troubled night depart

And the star of peace return:

Then, ye ocean-warriors

Our song and feast shall flow

To the fame of your name,

When the tempests cease to blow--

When the fiery fight is heard no more

And the tempests cease to blow.



AMATOR PATRIÆ