The battleship at anchor lies, in fair Havana's bay.|
Sound sleep the brave Americans, such noble sailors they.
When suddenly, without a sign, the sea becomes a tomb.
A great explosion rends the air! The ship has met its doom.
Gone to their last long sleep, down in the angry deep.
Well may a nation weep, but not in vain.
Brave, gallant lads in blue, died for our country true.
All the world mourns for you, and the wreck of the Maine!
2. What cries of horror rend the air for help when none may save,
3. And shall our country let it pass, this deed of foul intent?
4. Just think of Cuba, trampled, crushed. She strives for liberty.
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