Classic Poem

Methinks, I see thy bravest of the brave
Pale on his blighted deck. Whom tends he there?
The woman-fiend who serves a devil-queen,
And that queen's husband. On the deep they stare!
For, lo, upright, starts from his watery grave
One, whose death-pangs two there have caus'd and seen!
Shrieks the King-miscreant, “What with us wants he?”
And all see death! two, death and infamy!
Tir'd Hell's Deputed Traitress! thy worst foe.
When execration writes thy vilest deed,
Could not in damning story wish to read
A sadder trilogy of words of woe
Than “Britain! Nelson! Carracciolo!”
And yet thou seem'st not vile as thou would'st be!