Verse > Anthologies > William McCarty, ed. > The American National Song Book
William McCarty, comp.  The American National Song Book.  1842.
New Orleans, or the Sons of the West
Air—“John Bull caught a Tartar”

BRAVE sons of the west, your deeds of renown
  Unfold a new scene for the world to admire;
Your valour unrivall’d, all Europe will crown,
  As a subject for praise and a theme for the lyre;
You’ve ennobled the waters on which you were born;        5
  Mississippi emerges, resplendent in story;
Mid the scenes that with triumph our country adorn,
  New Orleans arises, unequall’d in glory.
Brave sons of the west, the blood in your veins,
  At danger’s approach, waited not for persuaders;        10
You rush’d from your mountains, your hills, and your plains,
  And follow’d your streams to repel the invaders.
You came, you encounter’d, you conquer’d the host
  That Britain had dared to debark on your shores;
New Orleans forever your valour will boast,        15
  And Mississippi murmur your praise as it pours.
Proud leaders of Britain, your fortune behold!
  Embark’d in “a secret and grand expedition,”
You sail’d to gain triumph, and eke to get gold;
  You landed—march’d forward—and met your perdition.        20
The plain of New Orleans, ensanguined and red
  With Britain’s best blood, affords illustration,
How many bold columns to conquest were led!
  How few have return’d from the “grand demonstration.”
At a point so remote, you hoped to surprise,        25
  And find a rich city devoid of protection;
You knew not what faithful and vigilant eyes
  Were watching your movements in every direction:
With the eye of an eagle when guarding his nest,
  Monroe saw their favourite New Orleans in danger,        30
And sent to brave Jackson the sons of the west,
  To welcome and bury the bones of the stranger.
Brave sons of the west, all Europe will praise
  The promptness with which you perform’d your commission;
The world will admit that your conduct displays        35
  A zeal to move on with a “great expedition:”
E’en Wellington’s duke, who in France and in Spain,
  Oft sacrificed legions of Bonaparte’s martyrs,
Will swear, when he hears that his generals are slain,
  Our western backwoodsmen are certainly Tartars.        40

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