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Thomas Campbell - Battle of the Baltic
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Of Nelson and the North 
Sing the glorious day`s renown, 
When to battle fierce came forth 
All the might of Denmark`s crown, 
And her arms along the deep proudly shone;
By each gun the lighted brand 
In a bold determined hand, 
And the Prince of all the land 
Led them on. 

Like leviathans afloat 
Lay their bulwarks on the brine, 
While the sign of battle flew 
On the lofty British line: 
It was ten of April morn by the chime: 
As they drifted on their path 
There was silence deep as death, 
And the boldest held his breath 
For a time. 

But the might of England flush`d 
To anticipate the scene; 
And her van the fleeter rush`d 
O`er the deadly space between: 
`Hearts of oak!` our captains cried, when each gun 
From its adamantine lips 
Spread a death-shade round the ships, 
Like the hurricane eclipse 
Of the sun. 

Again! again! again! 
And the havoc did not slack, 
Till a feeble cheer the Dane 
To our cheering sent us back;— 
Their shots along the deep slowly boom:— 
Then ceased—and all is wail, 
As they strike the shatter`d sail, 
Or in conflagration pale 
Light the gloom. 

Out spoke the victor then 
As he hail`d them o`er the wave: 
`Ye are brothers! ye are men! 
And we conquer but to save:— 
So peace instead of death let us bring: 
But yield, proud foe, thy fleet, 
With the crews, at England`s feet, 
And make submission meet 
To our King.`… 

Now joy, old England, raise! 
For the tidings of thy might, 
By the festal cities` blaze, 
Whilst the wine-cup shines in light! 
And yet amidst that joy and uproar, 
Let us think of them that sleep 
Full many a fathom deep, 
By thy wild and stormy steep, 
Elsinore!

Brave hearts! to Britain`s pride
Once so faithful and so true,
On the deck of fame that died,
With the gallant, good Riou —
Soft sigh the winds of heaven o`er their grave!
While the billow mournful rolls,
And the mermaid`s song condoles,
Singing glory to the souls
Of the brave!
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