The Portland daily press., 1882-07-04
The Rhyme of the Chesapeake
AS Spun by an Old Salt.

AS Spun by an Old Salt.
At her moorings in the bay
The Caleb Cushing lay;
All her shrouds were taut and fine,
And her masts of northern pine
Raked enough to make her wear
A half coquettish air;
Aye! she was as trim and neat
As the lovelisst lass man might hope to meet.
Through the balmy summer weather
Chafed she at her iron tether
Like falcon at her jesses,
As she felt the rough caresses
OF the wild, impetuous sea;
All! were she only free,
With the singing winds off shore
And the boundess, beaming ocean all beforel
But her captain lay in town
Sick to death, and up and down
On the ebb and flood she shifted,
AS the mists about her driftcd
Like VEIL or blazed the sun
On her polished, brazen gun,
While lazy tar or two
On her deck but showed how scanty WAS her crew,
In and out with flying streamers
Came and went the island steamers;-
Clumsy tugs with ships in tow;
Rakish schooners sharp and low,
Lean three-masters; barks and brigs,
And crafts with mongrel rigs
Whils the sluggish coasters lay
At their anchors all about her in the bay.
And, at times, there hove In sight,
Crawling slowly round Bug light
A groggy, blue-nose craft;
And the bluff blue-jackets laughed
AS she luft and clumsily
Tackled in and moored near by
Near enough to change ahoys
And to joke and banter with the bluenose boys
Who, with truck Of every sort
Back to some Provincial port
Yarmouth, Halifax, or Pictou,
In their numbering craft would 60;
Where were always congregated
Pestilent rebels who berated
Ger their glasses Yankee misors,
With their schcming tory friends and sympathisers.
And e'er long twas widely bruited,
That craft well armed and suited
For pirate, i'd lay
Weakly manned IN Casco Bay;
Twas tale the rebel Read
Listened to and dwclt with greed
On the praises men would utter
OF the Southron who should steal the Yankee cut
ter.
So day dswned ERE the glory
OF the roses transitory
Breathing sweetness had departed
Or the joyous, fervent hearted
Bobolinks had ceased to trill
When Portland with thrill
Born of anger and dismay
Heard the cutter had been stolen from the bay.
Stolen too, while silently
Through the gloom of deaths dark sea
To port from vision yelled
Her noble captain sailed
Like flash the story few
Through the town, and quickly grew
In the streets mighty throng,
And all eager to avenge the wicked wrong.
At the wharves two steamers lay,
Neither suited for fray,
But Mcclellan mover lost
Precious time in counting cost
And guns and shot and men,
(They could take net enc in ten
Who begged to &C., were all aboard
Ere twenty pounds Of steam the gauge had scored
Down the barber, trailing streamers
Of black yapor, shot the steamers.
The Chesapeake for fight,
Like an athlete stripped and Light;
Every maH bore, all threugh,
A hero sound and true,
Ready then and there to perish
For the country which his steadfast soul could cher
ish
Artists, lawyers, politicians
Merchants, artisans, physicians,
Manned her, and parson, too,
Made part of her bold crew; s3N
And COED one for to work
Went he fercely as a Turk,
Sleeves rolled up, and smutched with powder,
Making cartridges to spice the rebel chowder.
Twas not long before, becalmed,
But well manned and strongly armed,
And ready fer fight,
The cutter came to sight.
Then away for her they headed
With cheer the rebels dreaded
Caring not single jot
Though about them singing shrilly flew the shot,
On the Chesapeake shot straight,
Like death bolt launched of fate.
For like flash of flame
The thrilling order came,
"Ran her do,on" No more was said,
But the stokers faster fed
The furnaces, and faster
Worked the engines meath the keen eye of Their
master.
On shot ths Chesapeake
Net man on board might speak,
But stared with bsted breath
Into the nav Of death.
On. on, she faster sped;
Guns growled, and overhead
The angry shot, eluding sight,
Swept as if on vhistling wings upon their fight
But the rebels saw her coming,
Heard her eager engines humming,
Knew that death she them was bringing,
And all shame behind them finging,
Like rats that danger scent
Over the rail thsy went
To their boats, while from the matches,
Ofthe cutter came the flame and smoke by snstches.
Then in her mad career
Stopt the Chesapeake, SO near,
They could hear the fierce flames creeping
Where the mag azne was sleeping
Twas death to go too near;
So they turned and with cheer
Chased the rebels, who away
For the schooner rowed, which brought them TO the
bay.
And shs caught them with their schooner,
And in irons put them sooner
Than they thought the Yankees could;
Then towards the city stood.
While the CUTTER robed in smoke
Through which fires like serpents broke,
With groan which chilled the marrow
Reared and plunged beneath the ocean like an ar
row.
1t was thus that Portland boys
Nipt the rebels budding joys
Ere they opened to the sun;
And they merit every one
Greater fame than can be brought
By this rhyme SO rudely wrought.
Would that an Homsric tongue
Might their praises sing sooth they should sung
TELEPHONE NO. 373.
1852. 1852.
HTnNyEG O. GnHT N