XXXVIII.

Strong be thy armament as fits thy strength Of mandate powerful thy Lernæan clave; Nor pinch nor waste distort from its due length The sword of Justice which the Godhead gave. And, firstly, still, Britannia, rule the wave! With floating battlements to plough the main, Make peaceful every shore! Bid every slave, While freemen prouder swell, dash off his chain, When thy artillery’s roar is heard o’er Ocean’s plain!