 | The collected poems of William Ellery Channing the younger, 1817-1901 |  |
914
LASHED TO THE MAST.
BY W. E. CHANNING.
It was the brave old Farragut,
And he these words did say,—
“Now lash me to the foremast fast,
And then boys fire away;
They robbed our forts, our arms, our ships,
Our sailors' hearts remain,
Take back your own and break their whips,
And free the doomed from pain.”
And he these words did say,—
“Now lash me to the foremast fast,
And then boys fire away;
They robbed our forts, our arms, our ships,
Our sailors' hearts remain,
Take back your own and break their whips,
And free the doomed from pain.”
Then boldly up for Mobile Bay,
Lashed to the mast he steered,
“Sail for the forts,” cheerful he cried,
As they the passage neared;
Push near and pour your shots within,
And see if Gaines will stand,
The traitors robbed our forts and arms,
We pay them over hand.”
Lashed to the mast he steered,
“Sail for the forts,” cheerful he cried,
As they the passage neared;
Push near and pour your shots within,
And see if Gaines will stand,
The traitors robbed our forts and arms,
We pay them over hand.”
Then sank a faithful heart in death,—
Our Craven, in Tecumsch's hold,
A noble soul, a hero, brave,
Like Farragut both sweet and bold.
While flew the shot and shell amain,
No shelter on the open mast,—
They poured their rebel fire like rain,
But Farragut ne'er cried avast.
Our Craven, in Tecumsch's hold,
A noble soul, a hero, brave,
Like Farragut both sweet and bold.
While flew the shot and shell amain,
No shelter on the open mast,—
They poured their rebel fire like rain,
But Farragut ne'er cried avast.
“Make for the ram and run her down,
All, all my fleet, speed on speed fast,
Tear out her sides and spoil her bows,
Our wooden fleet else her repast.
And deadly was the foe that day,
The iron monster Tennessee,
An insult to the patriots bold,
Who keep their volleys for the free,
All, all my fleet, speed on speed fast,
Tear out her sides and spoil her bows,
Our wooden fleet else her repast.
And deadly was the foe that day,
The iron monster Tennessee,
An insult to the patriots bold,
Who keep their volleys for the free,
And Farragut now cried again,—
“She yields, I see the white flag wave,
The forts are ours, the traitors fall,
And Mobile Bay again is brave;
One hope, one heart, one home for all
Shall yet our guilty sons recall,
And from the pain and peril past,
Thank God they lashed me to the mast.”
“She yields, I see the white flag wave,
The forts are ours, the traitors fall,
And Mobile Bay again is brave;
One hope, one heart, one home for all
Shall yet our guilty sons recall,
And from the pain and peril past,
Thank God they lashed me to the mast.”
| The collected poems of William Ellery Channing the younger, 1817-1901 | |