The gay floating streamers of Britain appear, Waving light on the breeze as the stranger we near; And now could the quick-sighted Yankee discern "_Macedonian_," emblazoned at large on her stern. The bold _United States_, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield--be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." She waited our approach, and the contest began, But to waste ammunition is no Yankee plan; In awful suspense every match was withheld, While the bull-dogs of Britain incessantly yelled. The bold _United States_, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield--be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." Unawed by her thunders, alongside we came, While the foe seemed enwrapped in a mantle of flame; When, prompt to the word, such a flood we return, That Neptune aghast, thought his trident would burn. The bold _United States_, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield--be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." Now the lightning of battle gleams horridly red, With a tempest of iron and hail-storm of lead; And our fire on the foe we so copiously poured, His mizzen and topmasts soon went by the board. The bold _United States_, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield--be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." So fierce and so bright did our flashes aspire, They thought that their cannon had set us on fire, "The Yankee's in flames!"--every British tar hears, And hails the false omen with three hearty cheers. The bold _United States_, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield--be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." In seventeen minutes they found their mistake, And were glad to surrender and fall in our wake; Her decks were with carnage and blood deluged o'er, Where welt'ring in blood lay an hundred and four. The bold _United States_, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield--be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." But though she was made so completely a wreck, With blood they had scarcely encrimsoned our deck; Only five valiant Yankees in the contest were slain, And our ship in five minutes was fitted again. The bold _United States_, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield--be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die."