OLD Ocean's praise Demands my lays; A truly British theme I sing; A theme so great, I dare compete, And join with Ocean, Ocean's King ... The naval crown Is all his own! Our fleet, if war, or commerce, call, His will performs Through waves and storms And rides in triumph round the ball. No former race, With strong embrace, This theme to ravish durst aspire; With virgin charms My soul it warms, And melts melodious on my lyre. ... On yonder height What golden light Triumphant shines? and shines alone? Unrivall'd blaze! The nations gaze! 'Tis not the sun; 'tis Britain's throne. Our monarch, there, Rear'd high in air, Should tempests rise, disdains to bend, Like British oak, Derides the stroke; His blooming honours far extend! Beneath them lies, With lifted eyes, Fair Albion, like an amorous maid; While interest wings Bold foreign kings To fly, like eagles, to his shade. At his proud foot The sea, pour'd out, Immortal nourishment supplies; Thence wealth and state, And power and fate, Which Europe reads in GEORGE'S eyes. From what we view, We take the clue, Which leads from great to greater things: Men doubt no more, But gods adore, When such resemblance shines in kings! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LORD ALCOHOL; SONG by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE MARRIAGE OF HEAVEN AND HELL by WILLIAM BLAKE A GRAMMARIAN'S FUNERAL by ROBERT BROWNING LINES COMPOSED A FEW MILES ABOVE TINTERN ABBEY by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |