"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. IV. 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 : Then ceas'd-and all is wail, As they strike the shatter'd sail; Or, in conflagration pale, Light the gloom. V. Out spoke the victor then, As he hail'd them o'er the wave; 'Ye are brothers! ye are men! '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, As death withdrew his shades from the day. While the sun look'd smiling bright O'er a wide and woeful sight, Where the fires of fun'ral light Died away. VII. Now joy, old England, raise! By the festal cities' blaze, While the wine cup shines in light; And yet amidst that joy and uproar, Let us think of them that sleep, Full many a fathom deep, By thy wild and stormy steep, Elsinore! |