She was a stately Southerner that flew the Stars and Bars
The whistling wind from the west northwest blew through her pitch-pine spars
As like an eagle swiftly on she flew before the gale
Till late that night she raised alive the Old Head of Kinsale

No thought was there of shortening sail by him who trod the poop
Though by the weight of the ponderous jibs, the boom bent like a hoop
Our groaning chess-trees told the strain that bore the stout main tack
But he only laughed as he gazed abaft at the bright and silvery track

It was a fine and a cloudless night, the breeze held steady and strong
As gaily o'er the shining deep our good ship bowled along
In foam beneath the trembling bows a-mounting waves she spread
As stooping low her breast of snow she buried her lee cat-head

“What blooms upon the starboard bow what hangs upon the breeze?
'Tis time the package hauls her wind abreast the old Saltee.”
For by a mighty press of sails that clothed each ponderous spar
That ship we spied on the misty tide was a British man-o'-war

“Out booms, out booms!” our skipper cried. “Out booms, and give her sheet.”
And the swiftest ship that ever was launched shot away from the British fleet
Amidst a murderous hail of shots and stun'sails hoisted away
Down Channel clear Paul Jones did steer just at the break of day