103. the Yard-arm Tree.I.
O! the trees on the land that grow, that grow,
And the fruits that they produce,
Demand to be sung with vigor, I know,
For each of them has its use.
To the oak and the beech much credit is due;
To the birch we have all dropped a tear;
And, as for the pine, what teachings divine
To its gum-clogged knots adhere!
But now that treason stalks the shore,
And sails upon the main,
The tree that most is worth a toast
From all of loyal grain,
Is the taper Yard-Arm Tree,
That grows on a ship in the sea.
Up from the Isthmus we steam, we steam,
With treasure in our hold;
Bars and dust that take no rust,
And nuggets of yellow gold.
Down on our quarter sweeps a bark
Flaunting the Cotton Flag;
A rebel bark, with a letter of marque,
And they strive to get our swag;
But they reckoned without one skipper brave,
And grand it was to see,
The bloated Cotton blossoms wave
Upon our yard-arm tree.
So here's to the Yard-Arm Tree,
That grows on a ship in the sea!