Ready

Loaded with gallant soldiers, A boat shot in to the land, And lay at the right of Rodman's Point With her keel upon the sand. Lightly, gayly, they came to shore, And never a man afraid; When sudden the enemy opened fire From his deadly ambuscade. Each man fell flat on the bottom Of the boat; and the captain said: 'If we lie here, we all are captured, And the first who moves is dead!' Then out spoke a negro sailor, No slavish soul had he; 'Somebody's got to die, boys, And it might as well be me!' Firmly he rose, and fearlessly Stepped out into the tide; He pushed the vessel safely off, Then fell across her side: Fell, pierced by a dozen bullets, As the boat swung clear and free;— But there wasn't a man of them that day Who was fitter to die than he!