High fill the bowl, and round it ‘twine,
The laurels wreath of fame,
The wreath that blooms thro latest time,
To deck the hero’s name,
To Perry and his gallant host
The sparkling wine shall flow,
They tamed the pride of Britain’s boast,
And brought her glory low.
Stern over the dark tempestuous wave,
That heaves its sullen swell,
Over many a hero bold and brave,
Who in that combat fill,
The shouting host of freemen rose,
Unfurled the flag of fight,
And bade defiance to their foes,
To Britain and her might.
Together now the squadron’s ride,
The thundering cannons roar,
The lightings flash from side to side,
And slaughter wades in gore:
Fierce horror now patrols the deck,
To swell the rage of fight,
And tumult flies with hurried step,
And wild averted sight.
Where Perry moved, the god of war,
More fiercely seemed to glow,
Destruction like a baleful star,
Rained terror on the foe,
From soul to soul the pride of fame,
The love of country flies,
And every heart received the flame,
That lighened in his eyes.
No longer rocks the battles sweep,
On Erie’s stormy tide,
But over its wild and ruffled deep,
Victorious Perry rides:
Rise freemen of Columbia, rise!
Exalt the hero’s name,
Through distant lands and foreign skies,
Sound! Sound, the trumpet of fame!!!