Tripoli
So the frigate lay in Tripoli Bay, by the Molehead batteries pinned,
And along her flank, in a watchful rank, the guardian gun- boats grinned !
Out of the Gulf of Sidra's gales, a brig and a ketch, with
flattened sails,
Slid toward Tripoli harbor as the sun ahead went down, And, by the forts of Jussuf Bashaw pinned like prey in a
panther's paw, The captured frigate at anchor saw, in the curve of the
pirate town. And one of the pair had the peaceful air of a merchantman
landward led, And one of the two a Maltese crew, in fezzes of flaming
red; But they muttered on deck as they marked the speck of the
flag that swung on high Where the crimson bars and the silver stars had rippled
against the sky !
Then a wind came out of the cool northwest, and lifted the ketch on a heaving crest, 52
