LONG the tyrant of our coast | |
| Reigned the famous Guerriere; | |
| Our little navy she defied, | |
| Public ship and privateer: | |
| On her sails in letters red, | 5 |
| To our captains were displayed | |
| Words of warning, words of dread, | |
| “All who meet me, have a care! | |
| I am England’s Guerriere.” | |
| |
| On the wide, Atlantic deep | 10 |
| (Not her equal for the fight) | |
| The Constitution, on her way, | |
| Chanced to meet these men of might; | |
| On her sails was nothing said, | |
| But her waist the teeth displayed | 15 |
| That a deal of blood could shed, | |
| Which, if she would venture near, | |
| Would stain the decks of the Guerriere. | |
| |
| Now our gallant ship they met— | |
| And, to struggle with John Bull— | 20 |
| Who had come, they little thought, | |
| Strangers, yet, to Isaac Hull: | |
| Better soon to be acquainted: | |
| Isaac hailed the Lords anointed— | |
| While the crew the cannon pointed, | 25 |
| And the balls were so directed | |
| With a blaze so unexpected; | |
| |
| Isaac so did maul and rake her | |
| That the decks of Captain Dacre | |
| Were in such a woful pickle | 30 |
| As if death with scythe and sickle, | |
| With his sling, or with his shaft | |
| Had cut his harvest fore and aft. | |
| Thus, in thirty minutes ended, | |
| Mischiefs that could not be mended; | 35 |
| Masts, and yards, and ship descended, | |
| All to David Jones’ locker— | |
| Such a ship in such a pucker! | |
| |
| Drink a bout to the Constitution! | |
| She performed some execution | 40 |
| Did some share of retribution | |
| For the insults of the year | |
| When she took the Guerriere. | |
| May success again await her, | |
| Let who will again command her | 45 |
| Bainbridge, Rodgers, or Decatur— | |
| Nothing like her can withstand her, | |
| With a crew like that on board her | |
| Who so boldly called “to order” | |
| One bold crew of English sailors, | 50 |
| Long, too long our seamen’s jailors, | |
| Dacre and the Guerriere! | |
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