Though now we are sluggish and lazy on shore, <br />Yet soon shall we be where the wild waters roar; <br />Where the wind through the hoarse rattling cordage shall rave, <br />And fling the white foam from the top of the wave. <br /> <br />Yes, soon o'er the waters the Essex shall sweep, <br />And bear all the thunders of war o'er the deep; <br />While the hands that are hard, and the hearts that are brave, <br />Shall give the bold frigate the top of the wave. <br /> <br />And though some one among us may never return, <br />His comrades shall sorrow, his messmates shall mourn; <br />Though his body may sink to a watery grave, <br />His spirit shall rise to the top of the wave. <br /> <br />Then a health to John Adams! and long may he reign <br />O'er the mountain, the valley, the shore, and the main; <br />May he have the same breeze, which to WASHINGTON gave, <br />In his cruise o'er the waters, the top of the wave.<br /><br />John Gardiner Calkins Brainard<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-mariner-s-song/
