THE FIGHT IS DONE AND THE DAY IS WON.
The fight is done and the day is won,
For a burning wreck is she,
HER DECKS WERE RED WITH HER GALLANT DEAD.
But her decks are red with her gallant dead,
And never a cheer cheer we.
And over our side comes Dacres then,
Our brave but conquered foe;
He passes on by the silent men,
And his head is hanging low.
He gains the deck, and he holds to Hull
The hilt of his gallant brand,
But the Captain waves the sword aside
And takes him by the hand:
"The true, true sword of a true, true man
Shall stay his own for ay,
But a hat I'll take when the land we make,
For the bet at Lisbon Bay."
And up in the quiet sky the stars
Came twinkling one by one,
And over the quiet sea the moon
In silver sweetness shone.
Our sails were white in the peaceful light
As westward did we bear,
And a fiery shine on the dim sea-line
Was the last of the Guerrière.
And here's to the skipper!—of all the men
That ever sailed the sea
There was never a one like Isaac Hull
To handle a ship, said we.
And that is the tale that was told to me
By the man with the tarry queue,
Who sat with a spy-glass in his hand,
And gazed on the waters blue;
His hair was white, but his eye was bright,
And straight was his ancient form,
And his brown old face bore many a trace
Of the battle and the storm.
TODDLETUMS HAS A DREAM.
"Oh, papa, I had a bully dream last night. Want to hear about it?"
"Why, yes, Toddletums. Let's hear what it was."