For that ’s the only battle I shall fight,
The one
For Right,
And never shall my ships or cannon seek
To hurt
The weak.
But when our foes my pennant once espy
And know
It ’s I,
They hurry up their sails and scud away,
Nor wait
The fray.
So both my sword and pistol never cease
To make
For peace,
And dreadful to you as they now appear,
You need
Not fear.
With this long glass I readily can see
Where dan-
Gers be;
The compass tells me where we ought to go
To find
The foe.
But—let me whisper—though I seem so bold
And am
So old,
There are times when I really am perplexed
And e-
Ven vexed;
Then, when I want to do the truly right
With all
My might,
I ask the compass that is always true:—
Mama,
That ’s you!