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

Lawrence the Brave

THE STREAMERS were flying, the canvass was spreading,

The banner of war floated high in the air,

The gale on its pinions to combat was speeding

The chief of Columbia, her glory in war;

Undaunted he stood, as the billows that roll’d

Round the barge that he guided through ocean’s blue wave;

His helmet was honour, and fame nerved his soul,

To gather a prize worthy Lawrence the brave.

Columbia’s bright genius around him was hovering,

To shield her beloved mid the carnage below,

And fate, from the impulse of valour recovering,

Seized a javelin of death and directed the blow.

Ah! sad was the hour, when she saw from on high

The cross of proud Albion triumphantly wave,

And bitter the moment she view’d, with a sigh,

On the deck, pale and lifeless, laid Lawrence the brave.

“Ah! me,” she exclaim’d, “has my hero descended

From glory’s meridian, the summit of fame?

Shall he who while dying his country defended,

Like his form be forgotten, forgotten his name?”

And now for the sigh for the kindred that bled,

Shall water the laurel that blooms on his grave;

They ceased, and in anguish she silently shed

The tear-drop of sorrow for Lawrence the brave.