Classic Poem

The torrid sun rode up the sky
And saw our squadron sweep Manila Bay:
The stars and stripes were floating high,
When boomed our cannons' thunder-cry,
And righteous battle kept the Holy Day.

An iron thrill portentous ran
Through all our ships, remembering the Maine,
Their sister ship American;
And every gun and every man
Was fraught with vengeful memory of Spain.

One thought, one passion, one intent,
One love, one duty, drove their valor wroth;
One soul inspired the armament,
One presage of a sure event
Told all to trust the Lord of Sabaoth.

Majestic stood our Commodore,
The lot of war his ruin or renown;
He bade obedient thunders roar
That shook the wave and smote the shore,
And battered Asian Spain's Armada down.

A Nation's volleyed anger spoke
Its ultimatum, eloquent of power;
Diplomacy-of-war's red stroke
Smote from the Philippines the yoke! —
Wronged centuries were righted in an hour.