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ON BOARD THE CUMBERLAND.
When I awoke, a soldier lad
All dripping from the sea,
With two great tears upon his cheeks,
Was bending over me.
I tried to speak. He understood
The wish I could not speak.
He turned me. There, thank God! the flag
Still fluttered at the peak!
And there, while thread shall hang to thread,
Oh, let that ensign fly!
The noblest constellation set
Against our northern sky.
A sign that we who live may claim
The peerage of the brave;
A monument, that needs no scroll,
For those beneath the wave.
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