Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.

Tippecanoe

ON Wabash, when the sun withdrew,

And chill November’s tempest blew,

Dark roll’d thy waves, Tippecanoe,

Amidst that lonely solitude.

Where all was silence, save the howl

Of wintry blast or boding owl,

Or savage yell, as they would prowl

In that unbroken wilderness.

But Wabash saw another sight;

A martial host, in armour bright,

Encamp’d upon the shore that night,

And lighted up her scenery!

A favour’d spot that chieftain chose,

For weary soldiers to repose,

But not to sleep, lest wily foes

Should creep upon them stealthily.

But ere the rays of morning light

Dispell’d the shades of ebon night,

The silent arrow sped the flight

Of death, to every sentinel.

Then rang the shores with savage yell:

Then echo’d every hill and dell,

And, furious as the fiends of hell,

Rush’d forth the savage enemy.

To arms they flew, and, quick array’d,

Each warrior drew his battle-blade,

While clamorous drum and trumpet bray’d,

To wake the dreadful revelry.

Come on, their chieftain cried, ye brave,

We fight for victory or a grave!

Wave, Freedom! thy proud banners wave!

And charge with all thy chivalry!

Then shook the earth with cannons’ roar;

Then freemen roll’d in freemen’s gore;

While hungry Havoc cried for more,

And waved his plume o’er massacre.

Brave Owens there and Daviess fell;

The war-whoop was their funeral knell,

They need no monument to tell

Their unexampled bravery.

’Tis morn! the dreadful strife is done!

Hail to the gallant Harrison!

Who often fought and ever won

The glorious wreath of victory.