C. P. Oliver
Confederate Veteran Magazine, 17 (Feb. 1909), p. 95.
Sleep on beneath the waters, noble ship,
And take thy well-earned rest;
No longer o’er the billows,
On the wiled waves’ crest,
Shalt thou, the champion, though alone
Flying the flag of liberty, be borne.
From arctic oceans to the sunny south,
From eastern seas to islands of the west.
Thy sharp prow has cleft the waters into foam
Through years of superhuman toil,
No shelter but the open seas for rest,
Now, at rest forever, thou hast found a home.
Full many a fathom deep now art thou laid,
and on thy decks those men who nobly died
Sleep, resting from those toils of former days,
While their brave deeds remain their country’s pride,
And with the cannon’s breath engraved thy name
Upon the highest monument of fame!
Created and maintained by Lisle Brown, Curator
© 2007, Special Collections, Marshall University