Madam!— Stay where you are, ‘ Tis better, sure, by far Than venturing on an element of danger, Where heavy seas and stormy gales
May wreck your hulk and rend your sails, Or Europe's black-guards treat you like a stranger, When first you stuck upon your ways ( Where half New England came to gaze )
We antifederals thought it something odd That where all art had been display'd, And even the builder deem'd a little god, He had your ways not better laid.
Omens, indeed, are now exploded, But you have something dismal boded: Say — must the navy-system go to rack, And things advance at such a rate
That every wisely govern'd state Will hold the author of the scheme a quack. O frigate Constitution! stay on shore: Why would you meet old Ocean's roar?
Was man design'd To be confin'd In those fire-spitting hells a navy nam'd, Where Vice herself, abash'd, asham'd,
Turns from the horrid scene of blood and bones, And mangled carcases of men; and grunts and groans. Remaining on the stocks, in gloomy pride, Without an anchor thou shalt safely ride;
No pumping there, To make men swear, Waves you'll despise, Tho’ fierce they rise
To heaven when storms and tempests blow: Steady as fate, unmov'd will you appear When other ships the foaming surges tear — No fear of broaching to.
Nor useless need you be, if right we deem, For harmless purposes you proper seem — Scorn to be made a bloody, murdering den; Let folks of sense
At less expense Convert you into stores — to bring in rents; Stow pumpkins there — or anything but Men.
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