There were blue eyes from turfy Shannon, There were black orbs from palmy Niger-- But there, alongside the cannon, Each man fought like a tiger! A little, once, it looked ill, Our consort began to burn-- They quenched the flames with a will, But our men were falling still, And still the fleet was astern. Right abreast of the Fort In an awful shroud they lay, Broadsides thundering away, And lightning from every port-- Scene of glory and dread! A storm-cloud all aglow With flashes of fiery red-- The thunder raging below, And the forest of flags o'erhead! So grand the hurly and roar, So fiercely their broadsides blazed, The regiments fighting ashore Forgot to fire as they gazed. There, to silence the Foe, Moving grimly and slow, They loomed in that deadly wreath, Where the darkest batteries frowned Death in the air all round, And the black torpedoes beneath! And now, as we looked ahead, All for'ard, the long white deck Was growing a strange dull red; But soon, as once and agen Fore and aft we sped (The firing to guide or check,) You could hardly choose but tread On the ghastly human wreck, (Dreadful gobbet and shred That a minute ago were men!) Red, from mainmast to bitts! Red, on bulwark and wale-- Red, by combing and hatch-- Red, o'er netting and rail! And ever, with steady con, The ship forged slowly by-- And ever the crew fought on, And their cheers rang loud and high. Grand was the sight to see How by their guns they stood, Right in front of our dead Fighting square abreast-- Each brawny arm and chest All spotted with black and red, Chrism of fire and blood! Worth our watch, dull and sterile, Worth all the weary time-- Worth the woe and the peril, To stand in that strait sublime! Fear? A forgotten form! Death? A dream of the eyes! We were atoms in God's great storm That roared through the angry skies. One only doubt was ours, One only dread we knew-- Could the day that dawned so well Go down for the Darker Powers? _Would_ the fleet get through? And ever the shot and shell Came with the howl of hell, The splinter-clouds rose and fell, And the long line of corpses grew-- _Would_ the fleet win through? They are men that never will fail (How aforetime they've fought!) But Murder may yet prevail-- They may sink as Craven sank. Therewith one hard, fierce thought, Burning on heart and lip, Ran like fire through the ship-- _Fight_ her, to the last plank! A dimmer Renown might strike If Death lay square alongside-- But the Old Flag has no like, She must fight, whatever betide-- When the war is a tale of old, And this day's story is told, They shall hear how the Hartford died!