Page:A selection of war lyrics with illustrations on wood.djvu/32

ON BOARD THE CUMBERLAND. ON BOARD THE CUMBERLAND.

March 7th, 1862.

to your guns, men!" Morris cried.

Small need to pass the word;

Our men at quarters ranged themselves,

Before the drum was heard.

And then began the sailors' jests:

"What thing is that, I say?"

A long-shore meeting-house adrift

Is standing down the bay! "

A frown came over Morris' face;

The strange, dark craft he knew;

That is the iron Merrimac,

Manned by a Rebel crew.

So shot your guns, and point them straight;

Before this day goes by,

We'll try of what her metal's made."

A cheer was our reply.

Remember, boys, this flag of ours

Has seldom left its place;

And where it falls, the deck it strikes

Is covered with disgrace.

I ask but this: or sink or swim,

Or live or nobly die,

My last sight upon earth may be

To see that ensign fly!"

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