The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1903-10-25
To the Memory of John Paul Jones.

/ -
of earth,
For virtues that possess thy brave ana
manly sons,
Pinnacled high up for glorious deeds oft
done.
We ask that Thou shouldst rot forget
a hero's worth.
We warn thy memory back to an ear
Her day,
And raise TO Thee an oft repeated, earn
est cry,
Because one seaman raised our sinking
banner high
The winter of our woe became As sunny
May.
A great and mighty nation sucked the
blood of sire,
The mistress OF the seas marked us az
easy prey,
Our hope was faint, nor grew, nor was
! clearer way
Till Jones baptized the British frigate
with his fire.
With his old hulk a-battcred by many
/ storm,
With seams ripped ope by many a furi
Gus blast
With shredded ropes alone to hold The
topping mast
He fought the fight and gave to Us Il
faith newborn.
Fen yet the Scottish hills his thunders
re-echo,
And ocean mirrors back the angry, mrtd
flame,
Which like the witches fires do writhe
and coil and plearn
And lick around about the foeman and
his zoe.
And we can hear till now the lannon's
awful scream,
And see The hurting. fiery. gore-stained
sailor thrcngs,
We hear cen yet our own and Eng
lands battle songs
Comminglng with the swish of blood
in flowing streams.
We hear even now the crash of splinter
ing wood
The shuddering, sickening thud of fall,
ing spars.
We hear our Captains words ring clear
= and out afar,
As like god of war on sinking deck he
stood
We hear the answer, Il have just be-
gun to fight
Hurled Jack from out the roar and
doom and death and groans,
We hear the shouts, and din, and crash
and piteous means
Go UP beyond the stars that light The
Northern night.
We see the mighty ships all wrapped in
gttering shrouds.
Struggling, plunging breaking and lash
ed from stay to stay,
Their forked fires make midnight into
noon-tide day,
And lick their kissing tongues around the
dizzy shrouds.
Ard then the death that came, deep un.
derneath the waves,
Like demons clasped in life, which death
does not release,
The sea came calm AMI hushcd; the
moon-heams shimmercd peace,
Where fore the beck'nings came from out
the wat'ry graves.
The hero of this fight les in distant
home.
From lands mis- valour helped to free, his
graves afar,
His glory is undimmed; no clouds before
his star,
His deeds in all our hearts securely are
enthroned.
II our loved sister France his ashes lie
at rest
Except our own dear land, the meetest
SPOT Of God,
| Unsung almost forgot he rests beneath
her sod,
Whose lilies dropped their heads when
We were in distress.
No marks to tell his grave, no stone not
| cen word.
He sleeps beneath the football of an anx-
ious life.
His monument lifts in the record of his
| strife,
And its words were cut in the language
of his sword.
For this great hero nothing more can
! further heap
The love and honor which his foster
mother feels,
She knows no Drawer sailor ever trod
keel,
deep.
'Tis not for him we ask that here shall
be his sleep,
! Among the valiant men who made us
free and great,
For our own good it is to pay this long
due debt.
Gratitude above all else we must forever
! keep.
For pride in country's spendor must not
ever fade.
Because erstwhile we failed to give d
rightful due,
Shadows will dim and Screen a nations
clearer view
When for the valour of her sons return s
not made.
ii faults this greatest of our Captains
did embrace.
II is part of mans humanity that all
sin;
We Judge him not; God only judges men