William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
The ShipC
Fare thee well, dear native land,
Our pendant waves, the anchor is a-trip;
For free trade and sailors’ rights,
The Columbian seaman fights,
And his watchword—Don’t surrender the ship, &c.
But it frightens not the brave,
With joyous hearts the cables we will slip;
When the boasting foe appears,
Each brave tar his comrade cheers,
And his watchword—Don’t surrender the ship, &c.
Her proud pendant sweeps the skies!
Perhaps its waving honours we may clip—
Our brave captain draws his sword,
Whilst we echo to the word,
Gallant lads, O!—Don’t surrender the ship, &c.
How the glowing bullets sweep!
We’ve got the daring vaunters on the hip!
Though their colours nail’d so fast,
Floated proudly on the mast,
Yet full gladly they surrender’d their ship, &c.
How to spare the fallen foes,
And cheer their souls with friendship’s noble grip,
The high prize for which he fights,
Is free trade and sailors’ rights;
And to tyrants ne’er surrenders his ship, &c.
Safe arrived, my lads, once more,
Full bumpers raise to every lip;
To the memory of the brave
Who now sleep beneath the wave,
Who could die—but ne’er surrender the ship.