Lest force aspire to brand an alien name
Upon the immortal empire of the free:
Lest fire and sword and slaughter strive to tame
This isle, was ne'er so tamed, and ne'er shall be.
Ye guard the ocean barrier, undismayed
'Midst hidden perils for a brave man's fears,
In iron craft that many smiths have made
With peaceful labour in the old, dead years.
In a small vessel, of one Smith ill-wrought
I must soon venture on another deep,
And dare, with little hope, and little thought
Of praise and honour and untroubled sleep:
So, as each sails upon his perilous sea,
I pray High God He strengthen you, and me.