Now faded, ragged, frayed:
As yellow as King George's guineas! rent
From bunt to ear-ring: yet magnificent!
Yet in royal state arrayed!
For, dear and dauntless ship,
Built of the British Oak, and manned with hearts
Stanch as the heart of oak! What pulse but starts?
What pride leaps to the lip
Thinking how each clout heard
The boatswain pipe: "Hoist the fore topsail, Lads!
Haul home! Haul home!" And then it soars and spreads
Like pinion of sea-bird;
Amongst the clouds a cloud:
And then it sees from foretop—while it holds
The Spanish breeze, and mightily unfolds—
Down on the decks that crowd
