Old Ironsides at anchor lay,
In the harbour of Mahon;
A dead calm rested on the bay —
The waves to sleep had gone;
When little Hal, the captain's son,
A lad both brave and good,
In sport, up shroud and rigging ran,
And on the main truck stood!

A shudder shot through every vein;
All eyes were turned on high!
There stood the boy, with dizzy brain,
Between the sea and sky.
No hold had he above, below;
Alone he stood in air;
To that far height none dared to go —
No aid could reach him there.

We gazed, but not a man could speak!
With horror all aghast —
In groups, with pallid brow and cheek,
We watched the quivering mast.
The atmosphere grew thick and hot,
And of a lurid hue;
As riveted unto the spot,
Stood officers and crew.

The father came on deck. He gasped,
" O God! Thy will be done! "
Then suddenly a rifle grasped,
And aimed it at his son.
" Jump, far out, boy, into the wave!
Jump, or I fire, " he said.
" That only chance your life can save;
Jump, jump, boy! " He obeyed.

He sunk — he rose — he lived — he moved,
And for the ship struck out.
On board we hailed the boy beloved
With many a manly shout.
The father drew, in silent joy,
Those wet arms round his neck,
And folded to his heart his boy —
Then fainted on the deck.