pon the list of fame. 'Twas in December, sixty-one, as you shall understand, Secession's gloom had overcast Columbia's happy land; The Brooklyn left the Delaware, her mettle for to try, With Louisiana's rebel fleet, whose boast was very high. Tom Craven was our captain's name, as you shall understand, As brave a naval officer as any in the land; With Lowry for our first luff, the Brooklyn she did steer Down through the Gulf of Mexico for every privateer. It was in the month of April, the fleeshot and shell, they soon commenced the fight; The Hartford she stood boldly up — the Brooklyn, where was she? But look right under Jackson's guns, its Black Jack there you'll see! The rebel shot flew thick and hot, the Brooklyn she was there; Tom Craven, he is on the poop — she's in his special care; Bold Lowry says, “We'll beat our foes and then we'll give three cheers;” Our first broadside like thunder roared, which banished all our fears. Courage!
undaunted Brooklyn's crew, your hour is