Ambition so bewitch'd his mind, And royal smiles had so combined With skill, to act the part assign'd He for no contest cared, a straw; The ocean was too narrow far To be the seat of naval war; He wanted lakes, and room to spare, And all to yield to Britain's law. And thus he made a sad mistake; Forsooth he must possess the lake, As merely made for England's sake To play her pranks and rule the roast; Where she might govern, uncontrol'd, An unmolested empire hold, And keep a fleet to fish up gold, To pay the troops of George Provost. The ships approach'd, of either side, And Erie, on his bosom wide Beheld two hostile navies ride, Each for the combat well prepared: The lake was smooth, the sky was clear, The martial drum had banish'd fear, And death and danger hover'd near, Though both were held in disregard. From lofty heights their colors flew, And Britain's standard all in view, With frantic valor fired the crew That mann'd the guns of queen Charlotte. "And we must Perry's squadron take, And England shall command the lake;-- And you must fight for Britain's sake, (Said Barclay) sailors, will you not?" Assent they gave with heart and hand; For never yet a braver band To fight a ship, forsook the land, Than Barclay had on board that day;-- The guns were loosed the game to win, Their muzzles gaped a dismal grin, And out they pulled their tompion pin, The bloody game of war to play. But Perry soon, with flowing sail, Advanced, determined to prevail, When from his bull-dogs flew the hail Directed full at queen Charlotte. His wadded guns were aim'd so true, And such a weight of ball they threw, As, Barclay said, he never knew To come, before, so scalding hot! But still, to animate his men From gun to gun the warrior ran And blazed away and blazed again-- Till Perry's ship was half a wreck: They tore away both tack and sheet,-- Their victory might have been complete, Had Perry not, to shun defeat In lucky moment left his deck. Repairing to another post, From another ship he fought their host And soon regain'd the fortune lost, And down, his flag the briton tore: With loss of arm and loss of blood Indignant, on his decks he stood To witness Erie's crimson flood For miles around him, stain'd with gore! Thus, for dominion of the lake These captains did each other rake, And many a widow did they make;-- Whose is the fault, or who to blame?-- The briton challenged with his sword, The yankee took him at his word, With spirit laid him close on board-- They're ours--he said--and closed the game. ON THE CAPTURE OF THE UNITED STATES FRIGATE ESSEX,