Such were the dawnings of my liquid reign;
But since how vast it grew, how absolute,
Even in those troubled times, when dreadful
Aw'd angry Nations with the  Name,
Let every humbled state, let  say,
Sustain'd, and ballanc'd, by my naval arm.
Ah what must these immortal spirits think
Of your poor shifts? These, for their country's good,
Who fac'd the blackest danger, knew no fear,
No mean submission, but commanded peace.
Ah how with indignation must they burn?
(If ought, but joy, can touch etherial breasts)
With shame? with grief? to see their feeble sons
Shrink from that empire o'er the conquer'd feas,
For which their wisdom plan'd, their councils glow'd,
And their veins bled thro' many a toiling age.