What millions died that Caesar might be great!

The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn, Till danger's troubled night depart, And the star of peace return.

Tomorrow let us do or die!

But sad as angels for the good man's sin, Weep to record, and blush to give it in.

Beauty's witching sway is now to me a star that's fallen-a dream that's passed away.

Ye mariners of England! That guard our native seas; Whose flag has braved a thousand years, The battle and the breeze!

The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began, Dropt on the world--a sacred gift to man.