Old Ironside
Ay,tear her tattered ensign down!
long has it waved on high,
and many has danced to see.
that banner in the sky;
beneath it rung the battle shout,
the meteor of the ocean air
shall sweep the clouds no more.
her deck, once red with heroes' blood,
where knelt the vanquished foe,
when winds where hurrying o'er the flood,
and waves were wite below,
no more shall feel the victor's tread,
or know the conquered knee;
the harpies of the shore shall pluck
the eagle of the sea!
Oh,better that her shattered hulk
should sink beneath the wave;
her thunders shook the mighty deep,
and there should be her grave;
nail to the most holy flag,
set every threadbard sail,
and give her to the god of storms,
the lighting and gale!
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