Old Ironsides

Only silence dresses her rigging now To the call of the bosun’s whistle Her hatches now stand locked and secure Where long past sailors once lingered She is the last of the old frigates Moored in the shallows of Charlestown Board her and hear her echoes of valor Haughtily anchored her colors humbly fly No blemishes on her hull show her battles Her carronades still sit silently waiting As she floats mythically at ease For a moment I can hear the great moans Her keel and sailors cresting Atlantic waves To Captain Hulls orders to come about And charge on the enemy ship Guerriere On her decks I feel the plight of her dead Hearing stories of centuries old bulkheads Astounding feats of a morose pride To have brought their foe to capitulate Now she stands tacit though ever grand And still on her decks and deep in the bowels The mighty spirit of U.S.S. Constitution dwells A monument of endurance softly whispering “Lest we remember long forgotten sacrifices…”