With folded arms Napoleon stood,
Serene alike in peace and danger;
And, in his wonted attitude,
Addressed the stranger:--
'Rash man, that wouldst yon Channel pass
On twigs and staves so rudely fashioned:
Thy heart with some sweet British lass
Must be impassioned.'
'I have no sweetheart,' said the lad;
'But--absent long from one another--
Great was the longing that I had
To see my mother.'
'And so thou shalt,' Napoleon said,
'Ye've both my favour fairly won;
A noble mother must have bred
So brave a son.'
He gave the tar a piece of gold,
And, with a flag of truce, commanded
He should be shipped to England Old,
And safely landed.
Our sailor oft could scantly shift
To find a dinner, plain and hearty;
But _never_ changed the coin and gift
Of Bonaparte.
_Campbell._
LXVI
'YE MARINERS'
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.
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