Napoleon saw our Sea-king thwart
His landing on our Isle;
He gnashed his teeth, he gnawed his heart
At Nelson of the Nile,
Who set his fleet in flames, to light
The Lion to his prey,
And lead Destruction through the night
Upon his dreadful way.

Around the world he drove his game,
And ran his glorious race;
Nor rested till he hunted them
From off the ocean’s face;
Like that old wardog who, till death,
Clung to the vessel’s side
Till hands were lopped, then with his teeth
He held on till he died.

Ay, he could do the deeds that set
Old fighters’ hearts afire;
The edge of every spirit whet,
And every arm inspire. 
Yet I have seen upon his face
The tears that, as they roll,
Show what a light of saintly grace
May clothe a sailor’s soul.

And when our darling went to meet
Trafalgar’s judgment day,
The people knelt down in the street
To bless him on his way. 
He felt the country of his love
Watching him from afar;
It saw him through the battle move;
His heaven was in that star.

Magnificently glorious sight
It was in that great dawn! 
Like one vast sapphire flashing light,
The sea, just breathing shone. 
Their ships, fresh-painted, stood up tall
And stately; ours were grim
And weatherworn, but one and all
In rare good fighting trim.

Our spirits were all flying light,
And into battle sped,
Straining for it on wings of might,
With feet of springy tread;
The light of battle on each face,
Its lust in every eye;
Our sailor blood at swiftest pace
To catch the victory nigh.

His proudly wasted face, wave worn,
Was loftily serene;
I saw the brave bright spirit burn
There, all too plainly seen;
As though the sword this time was drawn
Forever from the sheath;
And when its work to-day was done,
All would be dark in death.

His eye shone like a lamp of night
Set in the porch of power;
The deed unborn was burning bright
Within him at that hour! 
His purpose, welded to white heat,
Cried like some visible fate,
“To-day we must not merely beat,
We must annihilate.”

He smiled to see the Frenchman show
His reckoning for retreat,
With Cadiz port on his lee bow,
And held him then half beat. 
They flew no colours till we drew
Them out to strike with there! 
Old Victory for a prize or two
Had flags enough to spare.

Mast-high the famous signal ran;
Breathless we caught each word: 
“England expects that every man
Will do his duty.”  Lord,
You should have seen our faces! heard
Us cheering, row on row;
Like men before some furnace stirred
To a fiery fearful glow!

’Twas Collingwood our lee line led,
And cut their centre through.
“See how he goes in!” Nelson said,
As his first broadside flew,
And near four hundred foemen fall. 
Up went another cheer. 
“Ah! what would Nelson give,” said Coll,
“But to be with us here!”