Ye Mariners of England

Ye Mariners of England,

That guard our native seas,

Whose flag has braved a thousand years

The battle and the breeze!

Your glorious standard launch again,

To match another foe!

And sweep through the deep,

While the stormy winds do blow;

While the battle rages loud and long,

And the stormy winds do blow.

The spirit of your fathers

Shall start from every wave,

For the deck it was their field of fame,

And ocean was their grave;

Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell

Your manly hearts shall glow,

As ye sweep through the deep,

While the stormy winds do blow.

Britannia needs no bulwarks,

No towers along the steep;

Her march is o'er the mountain waves,

Her home is on the deep.

With thunders from her native oak

She quells the floods below,

As they roar on the shore,

When the stormy winds do blow.

The meteor flag of England,

Shall yet terrible burn;

Till danger's troubled night depart,

And the star of peace return.

Then, then, ye ocean warriors,

Our song and feast shall flow

To the fame of your name,

When the storm has ceased to blow;

When the fiery fight is heard no more,

And the storm has ceased to blow.

I also want you to remember this little poem.

God and the sailor all men adore

In times of trouble but not before

When the enemy's gone and the wrong is righted

God is forgotten and the sailor slighted