Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1.
Frank Moore, Ed.

5. the battle of Morris' Island, a cheerful Tragedy.

I.
The morn was cloudy and dark and gray,
When the first Columbiad blazed away,
Showing that there was the d--1 to pay
With the braves on Morris' Island;
They fired their cannon again and again,
Hoping that Major Anderson's men
Would answer back, but 'twas all in vain
At first, on Morris' Island:
Hokee pokee, winkee wum,
Shattering shot and thundering bomb,
Fiddle and fife and rattling drum,
At the battle of Morris' Island!

II.
At length, as rose the morning sun,
Fort Sumter fired a single gun,
Which made the chivalry want to run
Away from Morris' Island;
But they had made so much of a boast
Of their fancy batteries on the coast,
That each felt bound to stick to his post
Down there on Morris' Island.
Hokee pokee, winkee wum, etc.

III.
Then there was firing in hot haste;
The chivalry stripped them to the waist
And, brave as lions, they sternly faced
--Their grog, on Morris' Island!
The spirit of Seventy-six raged high,
The cannons roared and the men grew dry--
'Twas marvellous like the Fourth of July,
That fight on Morris' Island!
Hokee pokee, winkee wum, etc.

IV.
All day they fought, till the night came down;
It rained; the fellows' were tired and blown,
And they wished they were safely back to town,
Away from Morris' Island.
One can't expect the bravest men
To shoot their cannons off in the rain,
So all grew peaceful and still again,
At the works on Morris' Island.
Hokee pokee, winkee wum, etc.

V.
But after the heroes all had slept,
To his gun each warrior swiftly leaped,
Brisk, as the numerous fleas that crept
In the sand on Morris' Island;
And all that day they fired their shot,
Heated in furnaces, piping hot,
Hoping to send Fort Sumter to pot
And glory to Morris' Island.
Hokee pokee, winkee wum, etc.

[3] VI.
Finally, wearying of the joke,
Starved with hunger and blind with smoke
From blazing barracks of pine and oak
Set fire from Morris' Island,
The gallant Anderson struck his flag
And packed his things in a carpet-bag,
While cheers from bobtail, rag, and tag,
Arose on Morris' Island.
Hokee pokee, winkee wum, etc.

VII.
Then came the comforting piece of fun
Of counting the noses one by one,
To see if anything had been done
On glorious Morris' Island:
“Nobody hurt!” the cry arose;
There was not missing a single nose,
And this was the sadly ludicrous close
Of the battle of Morris' Island:
Hokee pokee, winkee wum, etc.

VIII.
But, gentle gunners, just wait and see
What sort of a battle there yet will be;
You'll hardly escape so easily,
Next time on Morris' Island
There's a man in Washington with a will,
Who won't mind shooting a little “to kill,”
If it proves that We Have a Government still,
Even on Morris' Island!
Hokee pokee, winkee wum,
Shattering shot and thundering bomb,
Look out for the battle that's yet to come
Down there on Morris' Island!