Of thy own lofty Gades, which avow
Thy strength, though fate them now awhile appals;
Which though affrighted, blushing in their shame,
As bathing them around the waves extend,
Yet loud thy sons' heroic deeds proclaim,
Far on the sounding billows they defend.
From the proud castled poop that crowns his high[1]
Indomitable ship, the Briton round
Look'd, on his power and glory to rely,
And boastful cried, "Companions renown'd!
See, there they come: new trophies to attain
Wait your unconquer'd arms; the feeble pines
That Spain prepares for her defence in vain:
Fate from our yoke exemption none assigns.
We are the sons of Neptune. Do they dare
To plough the waves before us? Call to mind
Aboukir's memorable day! to share
Another such a triumph: let us find
One moment as sufficing us to come,
To conquer, and destroy them. Grant it me,
Kind fate! and let us crown'd with laurels home
Our wealthy Thames again returning see."
He spoke, and spread his sails. With swimming prows
- ↑
Se alzò el Breton en el soberbio alcazar
Que corona su indòmito navio;
Y ufano con su gloria y poderío
Alli estan, exclamò.
