Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889
On the Capture of the “Guerriere”
By AnonymousL
Reigned the famous Guerriere:
Our little navy she defied,
Public ship and privateer;
On her sails, in letters red,
To our captains were displayed
Words of warning, words of dread,
“All who meet me, have a care!
I am England’s Guerriere.”
(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
That a deal of blood could shed,
Which, if she would venture near,
Would stain the decks of the Guerriere.
And, to struggle with John Bull,
Who had come they little thought,
Strangers, yet, to Isaac Hull.
Better, soon, to be acquainted,
Isaac hailed the Lord’s anointed,
While the crew the cannon pointed,
And the balls were so directed
With a blaze so unexpected,—
That the decks of Captain Dacres
Were in such a woful pickle,
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:
Masts, and yards, and ship descended,
All to David Jones’s locker—
Such a ship in such a pucker!
She performed some execution,
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,
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,
Long, too long, our seamen’s jailers—
Dacres and the Guerriere!