Old Ironsides at anchor lay...

Old Ironsides at anchor lay,

In the harbor of Mahon;

A dead calm rested on the bay —

The waves to sleep had gone;

When little Jack, the captain's son,

With gallant hardihood,

Climbed shroud and spar — and then upon

The main-truck rose and stood!

A shudder ran through every vein —

All eyes were turned on high!

There stood the boy, with dizzy brain,

Between the sea and sky!

No hold had he above — below,

Alone he stood in air!

At that far height none dared to go —

No aid could reach him there.

We gazed — but not a man could speak!—

With horror all aghast

In groups, with pallid brow and cheek,

We watched the quivering mast.

The atmosphere grew thick and hot,

And of a lurid hue,

As, riveted unto the spot,

Stood officers and crew.

The father came on deck — He gasped,

“O, God, Thy will be done!”

Then suddenly a rifle grasped,

And aimed it at his son!

“Jump far out, boy! into the wave!

Jump, or I fire!” he said:

“That only chance your life can save!

Jump — jump, boy!” — He obeyed.

He sank — he rose — he lived — he moved —

He for the ship struck out!

On board we hailed the lad beloved

With many a manly shout.

His father drew, in silent joy,

Those wet arms round his neck,

Then folded to his heart the boy

And fainted on the deck!