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A varied scene the changeful vision show'd,

For, where the ocean mingled with the cloud,

A gallant navy stemm'd the billows broad.

From mast and stern St. George's symbol flow'd,

Blent with the silver cross to Scotland

dear;

Mottling the sea their landward barges row'd,

And flash'd the sun on bayonet, brand,

and spear,

And the wild beach return'd the seaman's jovial cheer.

LVI.

T was a dread, yet spirit-stirring sight!
The billows foam'd beneath a thou-

sand oars,

Fast as they land the red-cross ranks unite

Legions on legions bright'ning all the shores.

Then banners rise, and cannon-signal roars, Then peals the warlike thunder of the

drum,

Thrills the loud fife, the trumpet-flourish

pours,

And patriot hopes awake, and doubts are dumb,

For, bold in Freedom's cause, the bands of

Ocean come.

LVII.

VARIOUS host they came-whose ranks display

Each mode in which the warrior meets

the fight,

The deep battalion locks its firm array,

And meditates his aim the marksman

light;

Far glance the light of sabres flashing bright,

Where mounted squadrons shake the echoing mead,

Lacks not artillery breathing flame and

night,

Nor the fleet ordnance whirled by rapid

steed,

That rivals lightning's flash in ruin and in

speed.

LVIII.

VARIOUS host-from kindred realms

they came,

Brethren in arms, but rivals in re

nown

For yon fair bands shall merry England claim,

And with their deeds of valour deck her

crown,

Hers their bold port, and hers their martial frown,

And hers their scorn of death in free

dom's cause,

Their eyes of azure, and their locks of brown,

And the blunt speech that bursts with

out a pause,

And freeborn thoughts, which league the Soldier with the Laws.

LIX.

ND, O! loved warriors of the Minstrel's

land!

Yonder your bonnets nod, your tartans wave!

The rugged form may mark the mountain band,

And harsher features, and a mien more

grave;

But ne'er in battle-field throbb'd heart so

brave,

As that which beats beneath the Scottish

plaid;

And when the pibroch bids the battle rave, And level for the charge your arms are laid,

Where lives the desperate foe that for such onset staid !

LX.

ARK! from yon stately ranks what laughter rings,

Mingling wild mirth with war's stern

minstrelsy,

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