THE CONSTITUTION'S
LAST FIGHT
A Yankee ship and a Yankee crew ‑‑
Constitution, where ye bound for?
Wherever, my lad, there's fight to be had
Acrost the Western ocean.
Our Captain was married in
And sailed next day to sea;
For all must go when the State says so;
Blow high, blow low, sailed we.
"Now, what shall I bring for a
bridal gift
When my home‑bound pennant
flies?
The rarest that be on land or sea
It shall be my lady's prize."
"There's never a prize on sea or
land
Could bring such joy to me
As my true love sound and homeward bound
With a king's ship under his
lee."
The Western ocean is wide and deep,
And wild its tempests blow,
But bravely rides "Old
Ironsides,"
A‑cruising to and fro.
We cruised to the east and we cruised to
north,
And southing far went we,
And at last of Cape de Verd we raised
Two frigates sailing free.
Oh, God made man, and man made ships,
But God makes very few
Like him who sailed our ship that day,
And fought her, one to two.
He gained the weather‑gage of both,
He held them both a‑lee;
And gun for gun, till set of sun,
He spoke them fair and free;
Till the night‑fog fell on spar and
sail,
And ship, and sea, and shore,
And our only aim was the bursting flame
And the hidden cannon's roar.
Then a long rift in the mist showed up
The stout Cyane, close‑hauled
To swing in our wake and our quarter
rake,
And a boasting Briton bawled:
"Starboard and larboard, we've got
him fast
Where his heels won't take him
through;
Let him luff or wear, he'll find us
there, ‑‑
Ho, Yankee, which will you do?"
We did not luff and we did not wear,
But braced our topsails back,
Till the sternway drew us fair and true
Broadsides athwart her track.
Athwart her track and across her bows
We raked her fore and aft,
And out of the fight and into the night
Drifted the beaten craft.
The slow
No need had we to stir;
Her decks we swept with fire, and kept
The flies from troubling her.
We raked her again, and her flag came
down ‑‑,
The haughtiest flag that floats ‑‑
And the lime‑juice dogs lay there
like logs,
With never a bark in their throats.
With never a bark and never a bite,
But only an oath to break,
As we squared away for
With our prizes in our wake.
Parole they gave and parole they broke,
What matters the cowardly cheat,
If the captain's bride was satisfied
With the one prize laid at her feet?
A Yankee ship and a Yankee crew ‑‑
Constitution, where ye bound for?
Wherever the British prizes be,
Though it's one to two, or one to three, ‑‑
"Old Ironsides" means victory,
Across the Western ocean.
‑‑
Anonymous
Note: Captain Charles Stewart, who commanded
CONSTITUTION in the battle described, had married Delia Tudor on 25 November
1813, about fifteen months prior to the 20 February 1815 event.
|
The Captain’s Clerk |