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Restrain, oh, winds! your blust'ring force; Ye tempests stop your mad career,Nor strew each gallant sailor's corse Untimely on a wat'ry bier.
Spare, oh, ye winds! the widow's moan, Nor wake the tear in beauty's eye;But waft our warriors safely home, In love and friendship's arms to die.
For, toss'd upon the welt'ring wave, Far from each friend, and far from home,No stone can mark the hero's grave, No tear bedew the lover's tomb.
Yet, gallant spirits! shall each name Be dear to ev'ry British heart;E'en when we triumph in your fame, The sigh shall rise—the tear shall start.
Illustrious, to the end of time, Each dauntless hero's name shall be,Who fell in manhood's hardy prime— Who fought—who bled—for liberty!
Speed on, oh time! the happy day That lays at last oppression low;Then peace her olive shall display, And patriot-blood no more shall flow.
