Classic Poem

Go , daring bark, upon the wider stream;
Go to what hidden end thy fate doth call;
AidinGour country's yet imperfect dream;
Go, be thy lot to vanquish or to fall!

Thou and thy venturous comrades, small and great,
Are freighted with our Cambria's hopes and fears;
Thou shalt not miss, whate'er the award of Fate,
One favouring hand, at least, one voice that cheers

Sail, with Imperial England, round the earth,
Using the lordly tongue which sways the Race;
But oh! forget not thou the Cymric grace,
The snows, the heaven-kissed summits of thy birth!