American Old Time Song Lyrics: 46 In A Yankee Man O War
Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 46
IN A YANKEE MAN-O'-WAR.
Written by John Hayes.
I am a son of dear Columbia, I love her honored flag;
Its blazing stars have penetrated every tyrant's rag;
'Tis the emblem of prosperity, of liberty and rights;
And justice will he dealt to all who claim the stars and stripes.
Let none insult Columbia's fair daughters or brave sons,
Or the world will hear the thunder of her heavy-shotted guns;
To protect her honored rights I've sailed the oceans o'er and o'er;
I'm an able-bodied seaman in a Yankee man-o'-war.
I love my good and noble ship, that travels o'er the deep;
I love to see old "Glory "fly from her defiant peak;
I love to hear the bos'ns pipe, and it fills my heart with glee
To know my gallant shipmates are the bravest men at sea.
I've heard old England's sailors sing "Britannia rules the wave"
I've heard all naval powers boast, and of their sailors rave,
But Uncle Sam's blue-jackets often showed the world before
That a coward's hammock never swung in a Yankee man-o'-war.
There was once a mighty nation known as "mistress of the seas,"
Her "union jack," she wished alone to kiss the ocean breeze,
But our navy in its infancy ran up the stars and stripes,
And taught this haughty people to respect our "sailors' rights."
Now the ships that are manned by Yankee tars to every quarter sail;
No shots are sent across our bows, no curious "boarders" do us hail,
Since Decatur, Jones and Porter, and many thousand more,
Have shown the world what is stowed away in a Yankee man-o'-war.
There's inscribed on history's pages many a brave, heroic deed,
That our sailors in all ages, with a fond delight, will read.
Those famous orders of brave Lawrence our men will ne'er forget.
His last words to his gallant crew were, "Don't give up the ship."
Our naval hero's passed away have left a glorious name,
Emblazoned bright and lovingly upon the book of fame,
And we'll keep in mind those battles of our patriots of yore,
When we clear our decks for action in a Yankee man-o'-war.