Britannia needs no bulwark, No towers along the steep; Her march is o'er the mountain waves, Her home is on the deep. 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. The meteor flag of England Till danger's troubled night depart, When the storm has ceased to blow; When the fiery fight is heard no more, And the storm has ceas'd to blow. THE BATTLE OF THE BALTIC. THOMAS CAMPBELL, ESQ. Of Nelson and the North, Sing the glorious day's renown, All the might of Denmark's crown, In a bold determin'd hand, And the Prince of all the land Led them on. Like Leviathans, afloat, Lay their bulwarks on the brine; It was ten of April morn by the chime. There was silence deep as death ; For a time. But the might of England flush'd And her van the fleeter rush'd VOL. IV. ΑΛ Hearts of oak! our captains cried; when each gun From its adamantine lips Spread a death-shade round the ships, Like the hurricane eclipse Of the sun. Again! again! again! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back ; Their shots along the deep slowly boom,- As they strike the shatter'd sail; Light the gloom. Out spoke the victor then, As he hail'd them o'er the wave; And we conquer but to save ; So peace instead of death let us bring: But yield, proud foe, thy fleet, With the crews, at England's feet, To our king. Then Denmark blest our chief, That he gave her wounds repose; As death withdrew his shades from the day. While the sun look'd smiling bright, O'er a wide and woful sight, Where the fires of funeral light Died away. Now joy, Old England, raise! While the wine-cup shines in light; Soft sigh the winds of heav'n o'er their grave! While the billow mournful rolls, And the mermaid's song condoles, Singing glory to the souls Of the brave. DE BRUCE, DE BRUCE. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. De Bruce! De Bruce !—with that proud call Thy glens, green Galloway, Grow bright with helm, and axe, and glaive, The English shafts are loosed, and see The southern nobles urge their steeds, Earth shudders 'neath their feet— Flow gently onwards, gentle Orr, And broke the English ranks ; And, as the lightning from the cloud, Here fiery Randolph came; And stubborn Maxwell too was here, Who spared nor strength nor steel, With him who won the winged spur Which gleams on Johnstone's heel. |