William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
Naval ChronicleI
’Tis the deeds of our tars that have made the world ring;
For is it not true, where their flag is unfurl’d,
Its stars have beam’d glory to dazzle the world?
Proudly wrote on his sail, “I’m the famed Guerriere,”
Says Hull, “Are you there?” so together they pull’d,
In forty-five minutes the Guerriere was Hull’d!
Cried, “Luff up, my boys, ’tis an enemy’s sail;”
Soon he came alongside—when the short work was done,
He gave them a Frolic as sure as a gun.
The mad Macedonian encounter’d in fight;
When he who had blubber’d for worlds to subdue,
Soon found a new world that his business could do.
With Bainbridge at helm, in true majesty ride,
Pour a stream from her side, like Vesuvius’ red lava,
That quite overwhelm’d the whole island of Java.
His skill with a true English Boxer he tries:
Though he’d ne’er learn’d the art from Mendozas or Cribbs,
He pounded so hard that he broke all her ribs.
When a Hornet like lightning stuck close in his side,
And stung him so sore that from battle he turn’d:
Noble Lawrence that Peacock in ocean inurn’d.
And though called a Peacock, a new bird appear’d,
Who, quick to his own and brave Warrington’s fame,
Made prize of a Hawk with a Frenchified name.
As Blakely can tell, e’en to stop rivers’ course,
Since the Avon no longer can glide to the sea,
And she seized on a Reindeer and made him her prey.
Seized the trident of Neptune, in one of his freaks,
A land-lubber, at Mobile, his godhead defies,
And blew Mr. Mercury back to his skies.
And with Erie’s bold heroes ennoble my strain,
But though they the British fleets soundly did drub,
Yet the tale of a lake’s like the Tale of a Tub.
For bravely they fight, aye and skilfully too;
But Greek meeting Greek, comes the hard tug of war,
Though Yankees soon prove the best Grecians by far.
Of each native tar, yet the pride of his crest
Is the fair star of Mercy, that shines ever bright,
To cheer the lorn captive subdued in the fight.
My song would prevent you from drinking all night;
Then fill ev’ry glass to the true sons of Mars,
The heroes of ocean, Columbia’s brave tars.