Old Ironsides

HE mast that Britain strove to bow in vain; And one who listened to the tale of shame, Whose heart still answered to that sacred name, Whose eye still followed o'er his country's tides Thy glorious flag, our brave Old Ironsides ! From yon lone attic, in a summer's morn, Thus mocked the spoilers with his school-boy scorn. Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! Long has it waved on high, Andmany an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar;- THE DRUM The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, Whenwinds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee ; - The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea! Oh, better that her shattered hulk Should sink beneath the wave; Her thunders shook the mighty deep, And there should be her grave; Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the god of storms, The lightning and the gale!