Verse > Anthologies > William McCarty, ed. > The American National Song Book
William McCarty, comp.  The American National Song Book.  1842.
Rodgers and Victory
Tune—“Yankee Doodle”

JOHN BULL, who has for ten years past
  Been daily growing prouder,
Has got another taste at last
  Of Yankee ball and powder,
      Yankee doodle, join the tune,        5
        To every freeman handy,
      Let’s shake the foot and rigadoon
        To Yankee doodle dandy.
His wrongs and insults have increased,
  Till Yankees cannot bear ’em,        10
And as they wish’d to live in peace,
  He thought that he could scare ’em.
      But Yankees know their good old tune,
        For fun or fighting handy,
      For battle or for rigadoon,        15
        ’Tis Yankee doodle dandy.
You all remember well, I guess,
  The Chesapeake disaster,
When Britons dared to kill and press,
  To please their royal master.        20
      That day did murder’d freemen fall,
        Their graves are cold and sandy;
      Their funeral dirge was sung by all,
        Not Yankee doodle dandy.
But still for this we mann’d no ship,        25
  But used expostulation,
They murder’d Pierce—they fired on Tripp,
  We bore the degradation.
      For though we can like tigers fight,
        Yet peaceful joys are handy:        30
      Like brothers still we would unite,
        With Yankee doodle dandy.
The tools of British power who steal
  And murder on the ocean,
For every wrong they make us feel        35
  Meet honour and promotion.
      I guess if father was not dead,
        He’d think us very bandy,
      And ask where all the fire had fled
        Of Yankee doodle dandy.        40
But finding injuries prolong’d,
  Become a growing evil,
Our Commodore got leave, if wrong’d,
  To blow ’em to the devil.
      And Rodgers is a spunky lad,        45
        In naval battles handy,
      ’Twas he who whipt the Turks so well
        With Yankee doodle dandy.
So off he goes, and tells his crew;
  The sails were quickly bent, sir;        50
A better ship you never knew,
  She’s call’d the President, sir,
      They hoisted up the topsails soon,
        The sailors are so handy;
      While drums and fifes struck up the tune        55
        Of Yankee doodle dandy.
On Thursday morn we saw a sail,
  Well arm’d with gun and swivel,
Says Rodgers, “We will chase and hail,
  And see if she’ll be civil.”        60
      So after her they hasten’d soon,
        The sailors are so handy;
      While drums and fifes still play’d the tune
        Called Yankee doodle dandy.
“Where are you from?” bold Rodgers cried—        65
  Which made the British wonder—
Then with a gun they quick replied,
  Which made a noise like thunder.
      Like lightning we return’d the joke,
        Our matches were so handy,        70
      The Yankee bull-dogs nobly spoke
        The tune of doodle dandy.
A brilliant action then began,
  Our fire so briskly burn’d, sir,
While blood from British scuppers ran,        75
  Live Seventy-six return’d, sir,
      Our cannon roar’d, our men huzza’d,
        And fired away so handy,
      Till Bingham struck, he was so scared,
        At hearing doodle dandy.        80
Then having thus chastised the foe,
  And wounded thirty British,
We gave the rascals leave to go,
  They felt so deused skittish.
      Now toast our Commodore so brave,        85
        In toddy, flip, or brandy,
      And strike aloud the merry stave
        Of Yankee doodle dandy.

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