ADMIRAL COLLINGWOOD.
Methinks it is a glorious thing
To sail upon the deep;
A thousand sailors under you,
Their watch and ward to keep:
To see your gallant battle-flag
So scornfully unrolled,
As scarcely did the wild wind dare
To stir one crimson fold:
To watch the frigates scattered round,
Like birds upon the wing;
Yet know they only wait your will—
It is a glorious thing.
