Classic Poem

WRITTEN AT THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR 1797 .

Loud howls the storm along the neighbouring shore —
B RITAIN , indignant, hears the frantic roar:
Her generous sons pour forth on every side,
Firm in their Country's cause — their Country's pride!
See wild invasion threats this envied land:
Swift to defend her, springs each Social Band;
Her white rocks echoing to their cheerful cry,
" God and our King! " — " England and Victory! "

Yes! happy B RITAIN , on thy tranquil coast
No trophies mad Philosophy shall boast:
Though thy disloyal sons, a feeble band,
Sound the loud blast of treason through the land:
Scoff at thy dangers with unnatural mirth,
And execrate the soil which gave them birth,
With jaundiced eye thy splendid triumphs view,
And give to F RANCE , the palm to B RITAIN due:
Or, — when loud strains of gratulation ring,
And lowly bending to the ETERNAL King ,
Thy S OVEREIGN bids a nation's praise arise
In grateful incense to the fav'ring skies —
Cast o'er each solemn scene a scornful glance,
And only sigh for ANARCHY and F RANCE .

Yes! unsupported Treason's standard falls,
Sedition vainly on her children calls;
While cities, cottages, and camps contend,
Their King, their Laws, their Country to defend.

Raise, B RITAIN , raise thy sea-encircled head,
Round the wide world behold thy glory spread;
Firm as thy guardian oaks thou still shalt stand,
The dread and wonder of each hostile land!
While the dire fiends of discord idly rave,
And, mad with anguish, curse the severing wave.

Q UEEN of the O CEAN , lo! she smiles serene,
'Mid the deep horrors of the dreadful scene;
With heartfelt piety to Heav'n she turns —
From Heav'n the flame of British courage burns —
She dreads no power but HIS who rules the ball,
At whose " great bidding, " empires rise and fall;
In HIM , on peaceful plain, or tented field
She trusts, secure in HIS protecting shield —
G ALLIA , thy threats she scorns — B RITAIN shall never yield!