For that ’s the only battle I shall fight, The one For Right, And never shall my ships or cannon seek To hurt The weak.
But when our foes my pennant once espy And know It ’s I, They hurry up their sails and scud away, Nor wait The fray. So both my sword and pistol never cease To make For peace, And dreadful to you as they now appear, You need Not fear.
With this long glass I readily can see Where dan- Gers be; The compass tells me where we ought to go To find The foe. But—let me whisper—though I seem so bold And am So old, There are times when I really am perplexed And e- Ven vexed; Then, when I want to do the truly right With all My might, I ask the compass that is always true:— Mama, That ’s you!