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But as we ranged ahead,

And the leading ships worked in, Losing their hope to win, The enemy turned and fled — And one seeks a shallow reach;

And another, winged in her flight, Our mate, brave Jouett, brings in;

And one, all torn in the fight, Runs for a wreck on the beach, Where her flames soon fire the night.

And the Ram, when well up the Bay, And we looked that our stems should meet, (He had us fair for a prey,) Shifting his helm midway,

Sheered off, and ran for the fleet; There, without skulking or sham,

He fought them, gun for gun. And ever he sought to ram,

But could finish never a one.

From the first of the iron shower Till we sent our parting shell, 'Twas just one savage hour

Of the roar and the rage of hell.

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Steering up with the stream,
Boldly his course he lay,
Though the fleet all answered his
fire,

And, as he still drew nigher,

Ever on bow and beam
Our Monitors pounded away; -
How the Chickasaw hammered
away!

Quickly breasting the wave,
Eager the prize to win,
First of us all the brave

Monongahela went in
Under full head of steam;—
Twice she struck him abeam,
Till her stem was a sorry work,
(She might have run on a crag!)
The Lackawana hit fair,
He flung her aside like cork,
And still he held for the Flag.

High in the mizzen shroud,

(Lest the smoke his sight o'er-
whelm,)

Our Admiral's voice rang loud,
"Hard-a-starboard your helm!
Starboard! and run him down!"

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