Of Nelson and the North
Sing the glorious day's renown,
When to battle fierce came forth
All the might of Denmark's crown,
And her arms along the deep proudly shone:
By each gun the lighted brand
In a bold, determined hand,
And the Prince of all the land
Led them on.
Like leviathans afloat,
Lay their bulwarks on the brine,
While the sign of battle flew
On the lofty British line:
It was ten of April morn by the chime.
As they drifted on their path,
There was silence deep as death;
And the boldest held his breath,
For a time.
But the might of England flushed
To anticipate the scene;
And her van the fleeter rushed
O'er the deadly space between.
"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.
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 cease—and all is wail,
As they strike the shattered sail,
Or, in conflagration pale,
Light the gloom.
Now joy, old England, raise
For the tidings of thy might,
By the festal cities blaze,
Whilst 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,