HORATIUS at the bridge, and he
Who fought at old Thermopylæ;
Great Samson and his potent bone
By which the Philistines were slone;
Small David with his wondrous aim
That did for him of giant frame;
J. Cæsar in his Gallic scraps
That made him lord of other chaps;
Sweet William, called the Conqueror,
Who made the Briton sick of war;
King Hal the Fifth, who nobly fought
And thrashed the foe at Agincourt;
Old Bonaparte, and Washington,
And Frederick, and Wellington,
Decatur, Nelson, Fighting Joe,
And Farragut, and Grant, and, oh,
A thousand other heroes I
Have wished I were in days gone by —
Can take their laurels from my door,
For I don’ t want’ em any more.
The truth will out; it can’ t be hid;
The doughty deed that Dewey did,
In that far distant Spanish sea,
Is really good enough for me.
The grammar’ s bad, but, O my son,
I wish I’ d did what Dewey done!