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THE DEATH OF NELSON.
RECITATIVE.
O'er Nelson's tomb with silent grief oppressed,
Britannia mourn'd her hero now at rest.
But those bright laurels ne'er shall fade with years,
Whose leaves are watered with a nation's tears.
Britannia mourn'd her hero now at rest.
But those bright laurels ne'er shall fade with years,
Whose leaves are watered with a nation's tears.
AIR.
'Twas in Trafalgar's bay,
We saw the Frenchmen lay,
Each heart was bounding then;
We scorn'd the foreign yoke,
Our ships were British oak,
Hearts of oak our men.
Our Nelson mark'd them on the wave,
Three cheers our gallant seamen gave,
Nor thought of home or beauty;
Along the line this signal ran,—
England expects that every man
This day will do his duty.
We saw the Frenchmen lay,
Each heart was bounding then;
We scorn'd the foreign yoke,
Our ships were British oak,
Hearts of oak our men.
Our Nelson mark'd them on the wave,
Three cheers our gallant seamen gave,
Nor thought of home or beauty;
Along the line this signal ran,—
England expects that every man
This day will do his duty.
And now the cannons roar
Along the affrighted shore;
Our Nelson led the way.
Along the affrighted shore;
Our Nelson led the way.