[Descriptive of the daring bravery of Captain John Paul Jones, in his cruise in the Irish Channel in 1778.]
(From Admiral Luce's "Naval Songs.")
'Tisof a gallant Yankee ship that flew the stripes and stars,And the whistling wind from the west-nor'-west blew through the pitch-pine spars,—With her starboard tacks a-board, my boys, she hung upon the gale,On an autumn night we raised the light on the old head of Kinsale.It was a clear and cloudless night, and the wind blew steady and strong,As gaily over the sparkling deep our good ship bowled along;With the foaming seas beneath her bow the fiery waves she spread,And bending low her bosom of snow, she buried her lee cat-head.There was no talk of shortening sail by him who walked the poop,And under the press of her pond'ring jib, the boom bent like a hoop!And the groaning water-ways told the strain that held her stout main-tack,But he only laughed as he glanced aloft at a white and silv'ry track.The mid-tide meets in the channel waves that flow from shore to shore,And the mist hung heavy upon the land from Featherstone to Dunmore,And that sterling light in Tusker Rock where the old bell tolls each hour,And the beacon light that shone so bright was quench'd on Waterford Tower.The nightly robes our good ship wore were her three topsails setHer spanker and her standing jib—the courses being fast;"Now, lay aloft! my heroes bold, let not a moment pass!"And royals and top-gallant sails were quickly on each mast.What looms upon our starboard bow? What hangs upon the breeze?'Tis time our good ship hauled her wind a-breast the old Saltee's,For by her ponderous press of sail and by her consorts fourWe saw our morning visitor was a British man-of-war.Up spake our noble Captain then, as a shot ahead of us past—"Haul snug your flowing courses! lay your topsail to the mast!"Those Englishmen gave three loud hurrahs from the deck of their covered ark,And we answered back by a solid broadside from the decks of our patriot bark."Out booms! out booms!" our skipper cried, "out booms and give her sheet,"And the swiftest keel that was ever launched shot ahead of the British fleet,And a-midst a thundering shower of shot with stun'-sails hoisting away,Down the North Channel Paul Jones did steer just at the break of day.
'Tisof a gallant Yankee ship that flew the stripes and stars,And the whistling wind from the west-nor'-west blew through the pitch-pine spars,—With her starboard tacks a-board, my boys, she hung upon the gale,On an autumn night we raised the light on the old head of Kinsale.
It was a clear and cloudless night, and the wind blew steady and strong,As gaily over the sparkling deep our good ship bowled along;With the foaming seas beneath her bow the fiery waves she spread,And bending low her bosom of snow, she buried her lee cat-head.
There was no talk of shortening sail by him who walked the poop,And under the press of her pond'ring jib, the boom bent like a hoop!And the groaning water-ways told the strain that held her stout main-tack,But he only laughed as he glanced aloft at a white and silv'ry track.
The mid-tide meets in the channel waves that flow from shore to shore,And the mist hung heavy upon the land from Featherstone to Dunmore,And that sterling light in Tusker Rock where the old bell tolls each hour,And the beacon light that shone so bright was quench'd on Waterford Tower.
The nightly robes our good ship wore were her three topsails setHer spanker and her standing jib—the courses being fast;"Now, lay aloft! my heroes bold, let not a moment pass!"And royals and top-gallant sails were quickly on each mast.
What looms upon our starboard bow? What hangs upon the breeze?'Tis time our good ship hauled her wind a-breast the old Saltee's,For by her ponderous press of sail and by her consorts fourWe saw our morning visitor was a British man-of-war.
Up spake our noble Captain then, as a shot ahead of us past—"Haul snug your flowing courses! lay your topsail to the mast!"Those Englishmen gave three loud hurrahs from the deck of their covered ark,And we answered back by a solid broadside from the decks of our patriot bark.
"Out booms! out booms!" our skipper cried, "out booms and give her sheet,"And the swiftest keel that was ever launched shot ahead of the British fleet,And a-midst a thundering shower of shot with stun'-sails hoisting away,Down the North Channel Paul Jones did steer just at the break of day.
PAUL JONES' VICTORY
PAUL JONES' VICTORY
(Battle between theBon Homme Richardand theSerapis, September 23, 1779.)
AnAmerican Frigate:—a frigate of fame,With guns mounting forty,The Richardby name,Sailed to cruise in the channels of old England,With a valiant commander, Paul Jones was his name.Hurrah! Hurrah! Our country forever, Hurrah!We had not cruised long, before he espiesA large forty-four, and a twenty likewise;Well manned with bold seamen, well laid in with stores,In consort to drive us from old England's shores.Hurrah! Hurrah! Our country forever, Hurrah!About twelve at noon, Pearson came alongside,With a loud speaking trumpet, "Whence came you?" he cried:"Return me an answer—I hailed you before,Or if you do not, a broadside I'll pour." Hurrah!Paul Jones then said to his men, every one,"Let every true seaman stand firm to his gun!We'll receive a broadside from this bold Englishman,And like true Yankee sailors, return it again." Hurrah!The contest was bloody, both decks ran with gore,And the sea seemed to blaze, while the cannon did roar."Fight on, my brave boys," then Paul Jones he cried,"And soon we will humble this bold Englishman's pride." Hurrah!"Stand firm to your quarters—your duty don't shun,The first one that shrinks, through the body I'll run,Though their force is superior, yet they shall know,What true, brave American seamen can do." Hurrah!The battle rolled on, till bold Pearson cried:"Have you yet struck your colors? then come alongside!"But so far from thinking that the battle was won,Brave Paul Jones replied: "I've not yet begun!" Hurrah!We fought them eight glasses, eight glasses so hot,Till seventy bold seamen lay dead on the spot.And ninety brave seamen lay stretched in their gore,While the pieces of cannon most fiercely did roar.Our gunner, in great fright to Captain Jones came,"We gain water quite fast and our side's in a flame."Then Paul Jones said in the height of his pride:"If we cannot do better, boys, sink alongside!"TheAlliancebore down, and theRicharddid rake,Which caused the bold hearts of our seamen to ache:Our shots flew so hot that they could not stand us long,And the undaunted Union-of-Britain came down.To us they did strike and their colors hauled down;The fame of Paul Jones to the world shall be known,His name shall rank with the gallant and brave,Who fought like a hero—our freedom to save.Now all valiant seamen where'er you may be,Who hear of this combat that's fought on the sea,May you all do like them, when called to do the same,And your names be enrolled on the pages of fame.Your country will boast of her sons that are brave,And to you she will look from all dangers to save,She'll call you dear sons, in her annals you'll shine,And the brows of the brave shall green laurels entwine.So now, my brave boys, have we taken a prize—A large 44, and a 20 likewise!Then God bless the mother whose doom is to weepThe loss of her sons in the ocean so deep.
AnAmerican Frigate:—a frigate of fame,With guns mounting forty,The Richardby name,Sailed to cruise in the channels of old England,With a valiant commander, Paul Jones was his name.Hurrah! Hurrah! Our country forever, Hurrah!
We had not cruised long, before he espiesA large forty-four, and a twenty likewise;Well manned with bold seamen, well laid in with stores,In consort to drive us from old England's shores.Hurrah! Hurrah! Our country forever, Hurrah!
About twelve at noon, Pearson came alongside,With a loud speaking trumpet, "Whence came you?" he cried:"Return me an answer—I hailed you before,Or if you do not, a broadside I'll pour." Hurrah!
Paul Jones then said to his men, every one,"Let every true seaman stand firm to his gun!We'll receive a broadside from this bold Englishman,And like true Yankee sailors, return it again." Hurrah!
The contest was bloody, both decks ran with gore,And the sea seemed to blaze, while the cannon did roar."Fight on, my brave boys," then Paul Jones he cried,"And soon we will humble this bold Englishman's pride." Hurrah!
"Stand firm to your quarters—your duty don't shun,The first one that shrinks, through the body I'll run,Though their force is superior, yet they shall know,What true, brave American seamen can do." Hurrah!
The battle rolled on, till bold Pearson cried:"Have you yet struck your colors? then come alongside!"But so far from thinking that the battle was won,Brave Paul Jones replied: "I've not yet begun!" Hurrah!
We fought them eight glasses, eight glasses so hot,Till seventy bold seamen lay dead on the spot.And ninety brave seamen lay stretched in their gore,While the pieces of cannon most fiercely did roar.
Our gunner, in great fright to Captain Jones came,"We gain water quite fast and our side's in a flame."Then Paul Jones said in the height of his pride:"If we cannot do better, boys, sink alongside!"
TheAlliancebore down, and theRicharddid rake,Which caused the bold hearts of our seamen to ache:Our shots flew so hot that they could not stand us long,And the undaunted Union-of-Britain came down.
To us they did strike and their colors hauled down;The fame of Paul Jones to the world shall be known,His name shall rank with the gallant and brave,Who fought like a hero—our freedom to save.
Now all valiant seamen where'er you may be,Who hear of this combat that's fought on the sea,May you all do like them, when called to do the same,And your names be enrolled on the pages of fame.
Your country will boast of her sons that are brave,And to you she will look from all dangers to save,She'll call you dear sons, in her annals you'll shine,And the brows of the brave shall green laurels entwine.
So now, my brave boys, have we taken a prize—A large 44, and a 20 likewise!Then God bless the mother whose doom is to weepThe loss of her sons in the ocean so deep.
1813.