On our guerilla hunt to-day I was handed the following piece of poetry. Its title is the "Landing at Vera Cruz, March 9, 1847," by Major G. W. Patton of the Second United States Infantry, who was one of the first officers that landed on the shores of the Aztec. It's true as a die.
LANDING AT VERA CRUZ, MARCH 9, 1847.
The signal flag is in the sky,
Twelve thousand hearts are beating high;
Ye of the foremost line draw nigh;
Prepare to land; take heed; stand by.
Hurrah, hurrah.
The surf boats touch the ship's tall side;
Along the lea they smoothly ride.
Cling to the ropes your step to guide,
Down, down descend with rapid stride.
Hurrah, hurrah.
Now watch the war words once again;
All eyes upon Gen. Scott's flag-ship main.
Land, land, now reads the signal plain;
Cast off, give way, with stalwart strain.
Hurrah, hurrah.
Trim, trim the boat; play, play the oar;
The waters foam, the war dogs roar;
The death shall burst behind, before;
Bend to the stroke, strain for the shore.
Hurrah, hurrah.
The sea walls shake with thunder riven.
Around ye war's red bolts are driven,
Above ye floats the bird of heaven.
Strive, comrades, as ye never have striven.
Hurrah, hurrah.
The foremost surf boat nears the land;
It grounds. Out dash the dauntless band.
Follow, my brave boys, with flag in hand,
We will breast the surf—we gain the land.
Hurrah, hurrah.
Now raise the starry banner high;
Rally, close up, crowd around and stand by;
Our eagle rules the Aztec sky;
Comrades, one cheer for victory on the Mexican soil.
Hurrah, hurrah.
