Ye Mariners of England

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.      Britannia needs no bulwarks,    No towers along the steep;    Her march is o'er the mountain waves,    Her home is on the deep.    With thunders from her native oak    She quells the floods below,    As they roar on the shore    When the stormy winds do blow,—    When the battle rages loud and long    And the stormy winds do blow.    The meteor flag of England    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 storm has ceased to blow,—    When the fiery fight is heard no more,    And the storm has ceased to blow.