William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
Sir Peter ParkerCharles L. S. Jones
L
The valleys to their measures,
Of love, or wine, or sports divine,
Made vocal by their pleasures;
Be mine the theme,
No fancied dream
Of visionary barker;
The warlike cheer,
And welcome here,
Of brave Sir Peter Parker.
Accordant to my metre,
Whilst I declare the exploits rare
Of valiant-hearted Peter;
Nor deem me wrong
To raise the song—
Of praise I am no sharker;
But let my shell
The wonders tell
Of brave Sir Peter Parker.
Upon the briny ocean;
And scold and jeer with glorious cheer,
Expecting high promotion:
Whilst from his fun
The Yankees run,
As fearful of a jeering;
Lest like Van Tromp
Their hides he’d thump,
His broom at mast-head rearing.
As worthy of a winner;
So did desire, to ease his ire,
A Baltimorean dinner;
And in he sent with that intent
His compliments, high sounding,
Whilst, from on board,
His thunders roar’d,
Their Yankee souls astounding.
Or hospitable freedom,
They answer sent, he might have twent-
Y dinners if he’d need them;
O glorious feast,
For prince, or priest,
’Twould cure the gout or cholic;
Sir Peter swore,
He ne’er, before,
Saw such a Yankee frolic.
Jamaica’s lively liquor;
And swore, ’twas fit to enliven the wit
Of laymen or of vicar:
So not in fun
To be outdone,
They sent this gallant sparker,
Well season’d, home,
In his favourite rum,
The far-famed Peter Parker.