"Ye are brothers! ye are men! And we conquer but to save :— So peace instead of death let us bring; With the crews, at England's feet, To our King." VI. Then Denmark bless'd our chief, As death withdrew his shades from the day; O'er a wide and woeful sight, Where the fires of funeral light Died away. VII. Now joy, Old England, raise! Whilst the wine-cup shines in light; By thy wild and stormy steep, VIII. Brave hearts! to Britain's pride Once so faithful and so true, With the gallant good Riou: Soft sigh the winds of Heaven o'er their grave! And the mermaid's song condoles, |