As they’ll spring from their graves at the thunder of doom;
And they rushed through the streets, in their terror and fear,
Crying out as they ran, “Have the rebels come here?”
“Oh, see how the flame lights the shores of the bay,
Like the red rising sun at the coming of day;
’Tis a ship in a blaze! ’Tis the battleship Maine!
What means this to us and the Kingdom of Spain?
The eagle will come at that loud sounding roar,
And our flag will fly free over Cuba no more.”
Dark, dark is the night on the face of the deep,