What looms upon our starboard bow? What hangs upon the breeze?
’Tis time that our good ship hauled her wind, abreast the old Saltees,
For, by her pond’rous press of sail, and by her consorts four,
We saw that our morning visitor, was a British Man-of-War.
Up spoke our noble Captain—then—as a shot ahead of us passed,—
“Haul snug your flowing courses! Lay your topsail to the mast!”
Those Englishmen gave three loud cheers, from the deck of their covered ark,
And, we answered back by a solid broad-side, from the side of our patriot barque.
“Out booms! Out booms!” our skipper cried, “Out booms! and give her sheet!”
And the swiftest keel that e’er was launched, shot ahead of the British fleet,
’Midst a thundering shower of shot,—and with stern-sails hoisting away,
Down the North Race Paul Jones did steer, just at the break of day.
—Old Ballad.
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CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT
STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF NEW ENGLAND
(1751-1813)
“If you want ter learn how ter fight, why jest fight.”—Dock-end Philosophy.