the
Mystery of the Day," by Henry Spicer, London, 1853, pp. 76-101.

THE RHYME OF THE MASTER'S MATE.

FORT HENRY.

None who saw it can forget
How they went into the fight,
Four abreast,--
Thereby was the foe perplexed,--
With the Essex on the right,
That is nearest to the Fort,
And the Cincinnati next,
The St. Louis on her left,
All so gallant and so deft,
And the brave Carondelet.

Boom, boom, from every bow!
(They'll have to answer that!)
From the Rebel bastions, now,
There's a flash.
Cool, keep cool, boys, don't be rash!
Mind your eyes, as the old Boss said;
Keep together and go ahead,--
Not too high and not too low,
Fire slow!

Paff!
Now we have it from the Fort,
And the Rebels all a-crowing;
While the devils'-echoes laugh,
With a loonish thunder-lowing,
After every gun's report:
'Tisn't bird-shot they are throwing,--
'Tisn't chaff!
Ping! Ping!
If you've ever seen the thing
That can fly without a wing
Swifter than the Thunder's bird,
Lightning-clenching, lightning-spurred,--
If you've ever heard it sing,
You will understand the word,
And look out;
For, beyond a mortal doubt,
It can sting!

Thump!
'D y' ever hear anything like it?
Sounded very much like a ten-strike,--it
Appears they're after a spare!
Bet it made the old Boss jump,
Or at any rate awfully screw up his brows,--
Hit the pilot-house,
And he's up there,--
Must 'a' been a hundred-pounder,--
Had the twang of a conical ball,--
Would 'a' gone plumb through a ten-foot wall.
Isn't the old _Cinc._ a trump?

They meant that for a damper!
Square it off with an eighty shell
And a fifteen-second fuse,
(With all the latest news!)--
Pretty well done, boys, pretty well!
Guess that'll be apt to tell
'Em all about where it came from,
And where it's a-going to,
What it took its name from,
And all it's a-knowing to!
See 'em scamper!

The Conestoga, the Tyler,
And the Lexington, you know,
Are in line a half a mile, or
A little less, below,--
Just this side of the Panther
(Little woody island),
They've their orders----Oh,
But, after all, how _can_ their
Wooden-heads keep silent?
Wonder 'f it don't make 'em feel bad,