The Spirit of the Maine
In battle-line of sombre gray
Our ships-of-war advance,
As Red Cross Knights in holy fray
Charged with avenging lance.
And terrible shall be thy plight,
O fleet of cruel Spain!
For ever in our van doth fight
The spirit of the Maine!
As when beside Regillus Lake
The Great Twin Brethren came
A righteous fight for Rome to make
Against the Deed of Shame—
So now a ghostly ship shall doom
The fleet of treacherous Spain:
Before her guilty soul doth loom
The spirit of the Maine!
A wraith arrayed in peaceful white,
As when asleep she lay
Above the traitorous mine that night
Within Havana Bay,
She glides before the avenging fleet,
A sign of woe to Spain.
Brave though her sons, how shall they meet
The spirit of the Maine!