 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
178
SPITHEAD.
A day for patriot thoughts of honest pride,A day for praise to Heaven, as is most meet;
When England pours upon the peaceful tide
Her willing thousands, thronging far and wide
Our Ocean-Queen in joyfulness to greet:
Lo! how majestic stands the giant Fleet
Robed in white thunderclouds, that roll away
Amid these deafening clamours, to display
The black-embattled hulls, and overhead
Their taper spars, or glittering canvas spread:
While, all around, on this glad holiday,
The white-winged yachts, like sea-birds, flit about,
And crowded steamers, drest in pennons gay,
Cheer as they pass, and reel beneath the shout.
| Three Hundred Sonnets | |