At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay, <br />On board of the Cumberland, sloop-of-war; <br />And at times from the fortress across the bay <br />The alarum of drums swept past, <br />Or a bugle blast <br />From the camp on the shore. <br /> <br /> <br />Then far away to the south uprose <br />A little feather of snow-white smoke, <br />And we knew that the iron ship of our foes <br />Was steadily steering its course <br />To try the force <br />Of our ribs of oak. <br /> <br /> <br />Down upon us heavily runs, <br />Silent and sullen, the floating fort; <br />Then comes a puff of smoke from her guns, <br />And leaps the terrible death, <br />With fiery breath, <br />From each open port. <br /> <br /> <br />We are not idle, but send her straight <br />Defiance back in a full broadside! <br />As hail rebounds from a roof of slate, <br />Rebounds our heavier hail <br />From each iron scale <br />Of the monster's hide. <br /> <br /> <br />'Strike your flag!' the rebel cries, <br />In his arrogant old plantation strain. <br />'Never!' our gallant Morris replies; <br />'It is better to sink than to yield!' <br />And the whole air pealed <br />With the cheers of our men. <br /> <br /> <br />Then, like a kraken huge and black, <br />She crushed our ribs in her iron grasp! <br />Down went the Cumberland all a wrack, <br />With a sudden shudder of death, <br />And the cannon's breath <br />For her dying gasp. <br /> <br /> <br />Next morn, as the sun rose over the bay, <br />Still floated our flag at the mainmast head. <br />Lord, how beautiful was Thy day! <br />Every waft of the air <br />Was a whisper of prayer, <br />Or a dirge for the dead. <br /> <br /> <br />Ho! brave hearts that went down in the seas! <br />Ye are at peace in the troubled stream; <br />Ho! brave land! with hearts like these, <br />Thy flag, that is rent in twain, <br />Shall be one again, <br />And without a seam!<br /><br />Ralph Waldo Emerson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cumberland-2/
