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-wave,

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.

JAMES MONTGOMERY.

THE FALLING LEAF.

WERE I a trembling leaf
On yonder stately tree,
After a season gay and brief,
Condemn'd to fade and flee:

I should be loth to fall
Beside the common way,

Weltering in mire, and spurn'd by a
Till trodden down to clay.

Nor would I choose to die

All on a bed of grass,

Where thousands of my kindred lie,

And idly rot in mass.

Nor would I like to spread

My thin and wither'd face

In hortus siccus, pale and dead,

A mummy of my race.

No, on the wings of air

Might I be left to fly,

I know not and I heed not where,

A waif of earth and sky!

Or flung upon the stream,
Curl'd like a fairy boat,

As through the changes of a dream,
To the world's end to float!

Who that hath ever been,

Could bear to be no more?

Yet who would tread again the scene

He trod through life before?

On, with intense desire,

Man's spirit will move on;

It seems to die, yet, like heaven's fire,

It is not quench'd, but gone.

A VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD.

EMBLEM of eternity,

Unbeginning, endless sea,

Let me launch my soul on thee.

Sail, nor keel, nor helm, nor oar,

Need I, ask I, to explore

Thine expanse from shore to shore.