When nature, kind goddess, first form’d this big ball,
In fanciful mood, good and ill she bestow’d;
Assured that she could satisfy all,
She one fav’rite land with all blessings endow’d.
She call’d it Columbia! and swore before Jove,
That the rest of the world for this country should toil.
Through Asia, and Afric, and Europe her love
Sought for us choicest gifts from each clime and each soil.
Our country she made the asylum of laws;
The refuge of liberty, science and arts;–
Then as as surety for truth and humanity’s cause,
She planted our bosoms with true yankee hearts.
She then with these words made the welkin to ring–
“You have now every blessing that I can bestow;
Tis yours to preserve, and a navy’s the thing
That your rights shall protect from each insolent foe!”
She said–and twas done. Then the barabry shore
Saw such daring as rival’d antiquity’s name:
But the war for the rights of our tars gives once more
To our tars a fair field to outdo ancient fame.
See the cruisers of Britain, with threatening air
Sweep the seas, and defy us with thundering noise–
The Guerriere, her name on her mainsail so fair,
Cries–“death or submission to all yankee boys.”
But bold captain Hull, and his bold yankee tars,
Proved her masts were all heartless, and heartless her men:
And the Guerriere soon bade a farewell to all wars–
Justice triumph’d! and justice shall triumph again!
Next brave captain Jones met the Frolic one day,
And her masts too proved weak, and too weak were her men;
At least, very soon masts and men shot away,
Proved that justice will triumph and triumph again!
The hero of Tripoli next met the foe,
And–tis still the same story told over again–
Of fighting they scarecely could make out a show,
When their masts were all gone–kill’d or wounded their men.
Tis thus yankee tars shall their country protect,
And the rights of the seas on a sure basis place;
The vauntings and threat’nings of Britain be check’d,
And A NAVY and COMMERCE our country SHALL GRACE.