Old Ironsides at anchor lay,
In the harbor of Mahon;
A dead calm rested on the bay--
The waves to sleep had gone;
When little Jack, the captain's son,
With gallant hardihood,
Climbed shroud and spar--and then upon
The main-truck rose and stood!

A shudder ran 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!
At 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,