The Yankey lads all ready were,

With pistol, sword and gun,

In hopes John Bull would run on board,
To have a bit of fun:

But John got clear the best he could,

And soon came to an anchor,

And hoisted up a printed flag,*

As big as our spanker.

Some swore it was a morning prayer;

Some swore 'twas Greek or German;

But Nathan Whitingt spelt it out,

And said it was a sermon.

And thus long time in merry mood,
All side by side we lay,
Exchanging messages and songs,

In Valparaiso bay.

At last John Bull quite sulky grew,

And call'd us traitors all,

And swore he'd fight our gallant crew,
Paddies and Scots, and all.

Then out he went in desperate rage,

Swearing as sure as day,

He'd starve us all, or dare us out,

Of Valparaiso bay.

Then out he sail'd in gallant trim,
As if he thought to fright us,
Run up his flag, and fir'd a gun,

To say that he would fight us.

Our cables cut, we put to sea,

And run down on her quarter;
But Johnny clapt his helm hard up,

And we went following after.

Says general Wynne, and squire Roach,‡

And many more beside,

We wish those English boys had stay'd,

We'd show them how to ride.

The flag bearing captain Hillyer's long motto.

Nathan was we understand a tall long-sided Yankey, and reckoned the

best scholar of the whole ship's crew.

Two sailors nicknamed, by the crew.

In haste to join the Cherub, he
Soon bent his scurvy way,
While we return'd in merry glee,
To Valparaiso bay.

And let them go-to meet the foe

We'll take no further trouble,
Since all the world must fairly know,
They'll only fight us-double.

Ne'er mind, my boys, let's drink and sing,
"Free trade and sailors' rights;"
May liquor never fail the lad

Who for his country fights.

Huzza, my lads-let's drink and sing!
And toast them as they run-
Here's to the sailors and their king,

Who'll fight us-two to onc!"

"A Yankey song for the amusement of the crews of his Britannic majesty's ships Phoebe and Cherub. Attempted by general Wynne, who is a bloody bad singer." [Note. We have some doubts whether this song has not been published somewhere before. If so, and the author will put in his claim, we will gladly give it to the right owner, for it appears to be worth claiming.]

"Ye tars of our country, who seek on the main,
Redress for the wrongs that your brothers sustain,
Rejoice and be merry, for bragging John Bull
Has got a sound drubbing from brave captain Hull.

The bold Constitution a ship of some fame,
(Sure each jolly tar must remember her name)
On the nineteenth of August o'ertook the Guerriere,
(A frigate once captur'd by John from Mounseer.)

At five past meridian the action begun,

('Twas before John had learn'd from our frigates to run)

So back'd his maintopsail, quite tickled to find,

A Yankey for fighting, so stoutly inclin'd.

Proud Dacres commanded the enemy's ship,

Who often had promis'd the Yankeys to whip;

But it seems he had reckon'd without his good host,

As he found on that hot bloody day, to his cost,

That boasting commander, his crew first address'd,
(It was partly made up of Americans press'd;)
66 Says he," my brave lads, see our wish is fulfill'd,
For 'tis better to capture a ship, than to build.

And you who are tir❜d of our boatswain's-mates whip,
And sigh to return to some d-'d Yankey ship,
Ten minutes or less, of our fierce British fire,
Will give me that ship-and give you your desire.

Our drum beat to quarters, each jolly tar hears,
And hails the glad tidings with three hearty cheers;
All eager for battle to quarters we fly,
Resolving to conquer that ship-or to die."

So at it we went, in a deluge of fire,

Each party too stubborn an inch to retire;
Balls, grape-shot and langrage promiscuously fly,
While the thunder of cannon stills ocean and sky.

At a quarter past five our shot told so well,
That the enemy's mizzenmast totter'd and fell,
And while, eager to board him, for orders we wait,
His foremast and mainmast both shar'd the same fate.

Our cabin had now from his shot taken fire,
Yet danger but kindled our courage the higher:
'Twas quickly extinguished, and Dacres' lee gun
Proclaim'd his ship ours and the bloody fight done.

The prize we then boarded, all arm'd, in a boat,
But found her so riddled she'd scarce keep afloat.
Fifteen of her seamen lay dead in their gore,
And wounded and dying left sixty-four more.

Our loss was but seven, Heav'n rest their brave souls,

For over their bodies the green ocean rolls;

And seven, who wounded, will long live to tell,

How they got these brave scars that become them so well.

Huzza for the can, boys, come give us a pull,
Let's drink a full bucket to brave captain Hull;
And when next to meet us the enemy dare,
God grant in his mercy that we may be there."

"They say," to himself one day says the Dey, "I may bully him now without reck'ning to pay; "There's a kick-up just coming with him and John Bull, "And John will give Jonathan both his hands full."

So he bullied our consul, and captur'd our men,
Went out through the Straits and came back safe again;
And thought that his cruisers in triumph might ply
Wherever they pleas'd, but he thought a d-d lie.

For when Jonathan fairly got John out of his way,
He prepar❜d him to settle accounts with the Dey;
Says he, "I will send him an able debater:"
So he sent him a message by Stephen Decatur.

Away went Decatur to treat with the Dey,

But he met the Dey's admiral just in his way;
And by way of a tribute just captur'd his ship;
But the soul of the admiral gave him the slip.

From thence he proceeded to Algesair's bay,
To pay his respects to his highness the Dey,

And sent him a message, decided yet civil,

But the Dey wished both him and his note to the d-).

And when he found out that the admiral's ship,

And the admiral too, had both giv'n him the slip,

The news gave his highness a good deal of pain,
And the Dey thought he'd never see daylight again.

"Ho! ho!" says the Dey, "if this is the way

"This Jonathan reckons his tribute to pay;

"Who takes it will tickle his fingers with thorns."— So the Dey and the crescent both haul'd in their horns.

He call'd for a peace and gave up our men,

And promis'd he'd never ask tribute again;

Says his highness, the Dey, "here's the d―l to pay "Instead of a tribute; heigho, well-a-day!"

And never again will our Jonathan pay
A tribute to potentate, pirate, or Dey;
Nor any, but that which forever is giv❜n:-
The tribute to valour, and virtue, and Heav'n.

And again if his Deyship should bully and fume,
Or hereafter his claim to this tribute resume,
We'll send him Decatur once more to defy him,
And his motto shall be, if you please, Carpe Diem.