A MARINE'S HYMN
From the Halls of Montezuma,
To the shores of Tripoli,
We fight our country's battles
On the land as on the sea.
First to fight for right and freedom
And to keep our honor clean,
We are proud to claim the title
Of United States Marine.
From the Pest Hole of Cavite
To the ditch at Panama,
You will find them very needy
Of Marines—that's what we are;
We're watch dogs of a pile of coal
Or we dig a magazine,
Tho' he lends a hand at every job,
Who would not be a Marine?
Our flag's unfurled to every breeze
From dawn to setting sun,
We have fought in every clime or place
Where we could take a gun;
In the snow of far off northern lands
And in sunny tropic scenes,
You will find us always on the job—
The United States Marines.
Here's health to you and to our corps
Which we are proud to serve,
In many a strife we have fought for life
And never lost our nerve;
If the army and the navy
Ever look on heaven's scenes,
They will find the streets are guarded by
The United States Marines.
HERE'S TO THE SIXTEENTH!
(A toast by an officer at San Antonio banquet.)
Here's to the "Sixteenth Cavalry,"
A "Colt" that has just been foaled;
Bred with no "Past,"—but a Future,
Which Training and Time will unfold.
This "Colt," with his milk-teeth gives promise
Of growing to be some fine horse,
And if we give him "right raising,"
Be sure that he'll "come across."
Our "Colt" is as "sound" and as "quiet"
As any old horse you will see,
And, as for his "fit conformation,"—
That's just as fine as can be.