  FARRAGUT, Farragut, Far, by gray Morgan’s walls, Looms the black fleet. Hark, deck to rampart calls With the drums’ beat! Buoy your chains overboard, While the steam hums; Men! to the battlement, Farragut comes. See, as the hurricane Hurtles in wrath Squadrons of clouds amain Back from its path! To the gun’s lips, Thunderbolt Farragut Hurls the black ships. Now through the battle’s roar Clear the boy sings, “By the mark fathoms four,” While his lead swings. Steadily the wheelmen five “Nor’ by East keep her.” “Steady,” but two alive: How the shells sweep her! Lashed to the mast that sways Over red decks, Over the flame that plays Round the torn wrecks, Over the dying lips Framed for a cheer, Farragut leads his ships, Guides the line clear. On by heights cannon-browed, While the spars quiver; Onward still flames the cloud Where the hulls shiver. Storm and fire past. Cheer him, lads—Farragut, Lashed to the mast! Oh! while Atlantic’s breast Bears a white sail, While the Gulf’s towering crest Tops a green vale, Men thy bold deeds shall tell, Old Heart of Oak, Daring Dave Farragut, Thunderbolt stroke! William Tuckey Meredith. August, 1864. |
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