It would have been as though he [President Andrew Johnson] were
in a boat of stone with masts of read more

It would have been as though he [President Andrew Johnson] were
in a boat of stone with masts of steel, sails of lead, ropes of
iron, the devil at the helm, the wrath of God for a breeze, and
hell for his destination.

She bears her down majestically near,
Speed on her prow, and terror in her tier.

She bears her down majestically near,
Speed on her prow, and terror in her tier.

She comes majestic with her swelling sails,
The gallant Ship: along her watery way,
Homeward she drives read more

She comes majestic with her swelling sails,
The gallant Ship: along her watery way,
Homeward she drives before the favouring gales;
Now flirting at their length the streamers play,
And now they ripple with the ruffling breeze.

She walks the waters like a thing of life,
And seems to dare the elements to strife.

She walks the waters like a thing of life,
And seems to dare the elements to strife.

There's not a ship that sails the ocean,
But every climate, every soil,
Must bring its tribute, read more

There's not a ship that sails the ocean,
But every climate, every soil,
Must bring its tribute, great or small,
And help to build the wooden wall!

And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and
masts of ships.

And the wind plays on those great sonorous harps, the shrouds and
masts of ships.

For she is such a smart little craft,
Such a neat little, sweet little craft--
Such a read more

For she is such a smart little craft,
Such a neat little, sweet little craft--
Such a bright little,
Tight little,
Slight little,
Light little,
Trim little, slim little craft!

For why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
The air is cut read more

For why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.

The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Burned on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
read more

The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Burned on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were lovesick with them; the oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes.