VI.

Oh, may no mean surrender of the rights Of our ancestral swords, Which made our fathers pioneers and lords, And victors in the fights,— May no succession of the days and nights Find us or ours at fault, Or careless of our fame, our island-fame, Our sea-begotten fame,— And no true Briton halt In his allegiance to the Victory-name Which is the name we bow to in our thought, Where English deeds are wrought, In lands that love the languors of the sun, And where the stars have sway, And where the moon is marvelled at for hours! The flags of nations are the ocean-flowers, And ours the dearest, ours the brightest one, That ever shimmered on the watery way Which patriots call to mind When they remember isles beyond the dawn Where our sea-children dwell. For there's no flag afloat upon the wind Can wave so high, or show so fair a front, Or gleam so proudly in the battle-brunt, Or tell a tale of conquest half so well As this we doat upon!