Five old songs/The mariners of Britain

THE MARINERS OF BRITAIN.

YE mariners of Britain,
That guard our native seas,
Whose flag has brav’d a thousand years
the battle and the breeze,
Your glorious Standard launch again,
to match another foe.
And sweep thro’ the deep,
while the stormy tempests blow.
While the battle rages long and loud,
and the stormy tempests blow.

The spirit of your fathers
Shall start for ev’ry wave,
For the deck it was their filed of fame,
the ocean was their grave;
Where Blake, the boast of freedom fought
your manly hearts shall glow,
As ye sweep o’er the deep
while the stormy tempest blow.
While the battle rages, &c.

Britannia needs no bulwark,
no tow'r along the steep;
Her march is o'er the mountain-wave,
her home is on the deep:
With thunder from her native oak,
she squells the floods below,
Like the roar on the shore,
when the stormy tempests blow.

The meteor flag of Britain,
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 trumpets cease to blow.
When the fiery fight is heard no more,
and the tempests cease to blow.