Ye Mariners of England

Ye Mariners of England

    That guard our native seas,

    Whose flag has braved, 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 winds do blow,—

    While the battle rages loud and long,

   And the stormy winds do blow.

     The spirits of your fathers

   Shall start from every wave!

   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 winds do blow,—

   While the battle rages loud and long,

   And the stormy winds do blow.

     Britannia needs no bulwarks,

   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 winds do blow,—

   When the battle rages loud and long

   And the stormy winds do blow.

   The meteor flag of England

   Shall yet terrific burn,

   Till danger's troubled night depart

   And the star of peace return.

   Then, then, ye ocean warriors!

   Our song and feast shall flow

   To the fame of your name,

   When the storm has ceased to blow,—

   When the fiery fight is heard no more,

   And the storm has ceased to blow.