Ii

How we laughed!--my mate and I,-- On the "Bon Homme Richard's" deck, As we saw that convoy fly Like a snow-squall, till each fleck Melted in the twilight shadows of the coast-line, speck by speck; And scuffling back to shore The Scarborough bailiffs sped, As the "Richard" with a roar Of her cannon round the Head, Crossed her royal yards and signaled to her consort: "Chase ahead"