White is the glassy deck, without a stain,

Where on the watch the staid Lieutenant walks:

Look on that part which sacred doth remain[ee]

For the lone Chieftain, who majestic stalks,

Silent and feared by all—not oft he talks

With aught beneath him, if he would preserve

That strict restraint, which broken, ever balks

Conquest and Fame: but Britons rarely swerve

From law, however stern, which tends their strength to nerve[ef].