The Morning Chronicle (November 22, 1805)
Reclined on a rock of her sea-beaten Isle,
BRITANNIA survey'd the profound;
Saw FREEDOM and VIRTUE and INDUSTRY smile;
In transport she gaz'd all around—
While the murmurs, arising from OCEAN'S dark Waves,
Hoarse sounded—"BRITANNIA reigns Queen of the Waves."
To hear once again the brave acts of her sons,
Determin'd to fly o'er the ball:
No shores, whether friendly or hostile, she shuns;
Their fame had extended o'er all;
And oft in her flight, as in Ocean she laves,
The Tritons still hail her as Queen of the Waves.
But Chief, midst her heroes, wherever she goes,
She hears her HORATIO'S proud name;
FAME'S numberless voices in concert arose,
Nor sufficed his great deeds to proclaim—
They sounded, "the Hero her enemies still braves;
"BRITANNIA alone reigns the Queen of the Waves."
Her course, overjoy'd at his praises, she steers,
To see her brave Son, o'er the main;
When off Cape Trafalgar, exulting she hears
The Hero's victorious again!
And tells the proud Despot to rule o'er his slaves,
Nor strive with his Queen for the Crown of the Waves.
With grief soon she learn'd that her Hero had died,
The tears gush'd in floods from her eyes;
His deeds were too bright for a mortal, she cried,
Then bore him aloft to the skies.
The warriors that fell, still exclaim from their graves,
BRITANNIA for ever reigns Queen of the Waves."