Old Ironsides

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

1809 to 1894

Poem Image
Track 1

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Nail to the mast her holy flag,
Her thunders shook the mighty deep,
When winds were hurrying o’er the flood
Set every thread-bare sail,
Long has it waved on high,
O, better that her shattered hulk
And give her to the god of storms,—
Beneath it rung the battle shout,
And many an eye has danced to see
And there should be her grave;
No more shall feel the victor’s tread,
And waves were white below,
Or know the conquered knee;—
And burst the cannon’s roar;—
The lightning and the gale!
Shall sweep the clouds no more!
That banner in the sky;
Her deck, once red with heroes’ blood
The eagle of the sea!
Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!
Where knelt the vanquished foe,
The harpies of the shore shall pluck
Should sink beneath the wave;
The meteor of the ocean air

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