Lyrics:
Tis of the gallant Yankee ship that flew the stripes and stars
and the whistling wind from the west no’ west blew through its pitch pine spars
with the starboard tacks aboard my boys she hung upon the gale
On an autumn night we raised the light on the head of old of King Sail
T’was a clear and cloudless night my boys and the wind grew steady and strong
As gaily over the sparkling deep our good ship bound along
With foaming seas beneath her bow the silvery waves she spread
And bending low her bosom of snow she buried her lee cap’s head
Now there was no talk of shortened sail by the man who walked the poop
And under the press of her ponderous jib the boom bent like a hoop
And the groaning waterways told the strain that held her stout main tack
But he only laughed as he glanced aback at a white and foamy track
Now the mid tide meets at the channel waves that flow from shore to shore
And the mist hung heavy upon the land from Featherstone to Dunmore
And the sterling light that Tuska Rock where the old bell holds a charm
And the beacon light that shined so bright was quenched at Waterford Tower.
What looms upon our starboard bow? What hangs upon the breeze?
It is time our good ship hauled her wind abreast the old saltees
For by her ponderous press of sail and by her consorts four,
We saw our morning visitor was a British man o’ war
Up spoke our noble captain then as the shot before us passed
Out snuff your flowing courses, lads, lay your topsails to the mast
The Englishmen gave loud hurrahs from the deck of their covered ark
And we answered back with a solid round from the deck of our patriot bark
Out booms! Out booms! our skipper cried then out booms and give her sheet
and the swiftest keel that t’was ever launched shot ahead of the British fleet
And amidst a thundering shower of shot with the stun-sails hoisting away
Down the Channel North Paul Jones did steer it was at the break of day
Down the Channel North Paul Jones did steer it was at the break of day