作曲 : Traditional Song
 Oh! shipmates, come, gather, and join in my ditty;
 Of a terrible battle that happened, of late:
 Let each Union-Tar shed a tear of his pity,
 When he thinks of the once gallant Cumberland's fate.
 The Eight day of March told a terrible story,
 When many a brave tar to this world bid: Adieu!
 Our Flag it was wrapt in a mantle of glory
 By the heroic deeds of the Cumberland's crew.
 On that ill-fated day, about ten in the morning,
 The sky it was cloudless, and bright shone the Sun:
 The drums of the Cumberland sounded a warning
 That told every seaman to stand by his gun.
 An Iron-clad Frigate down on us came bearing,
 High up in the air her base Rebel Flag flew;
 An emblem of Treason she proudly was waving,
 Determined to conquer the Cumberland's crew.
 Now, up spoke our Captain with stern resolution,
 Saying: boys, of this monster now don't be afraid,
 We swore to maintain our beloved Constitution,
 And to die for our Country we are not afraid!
 We fight for our Union: our cause it is glorious,
 By the Stars and the Stripes we will ever stand true.
 We'll sink at our quarters, or conquer victorious!
 Was answered, by cheers, by the Cumberland's crew.
 Our noble ship fired with guns' dreadful thunder,
 Our broad-side, like hail, on the Rebel did pore:
 The people gazed on, struck with terror and wonder:
 As the shots struck her sides, and glanced harmless o'er;
 But the pride of our Navy could never be daunted,
 Tho' the decks with the dead and the wounded did strew:
 The stars spangled banner how proudly it flaunted,
 It was hailed to the mast by the Cumberland's crew!
 They fought us three hours, with stern resolution,
 Till these Rebels found cannon would never decide;
 For, the Flag of Secession has no power to gall them,
 Tho' the blood from our scuppers it crimsond the tide;
 She struck us amidst-ship, our planks she did sever;
 Her sharp Iron-prong pierced our noble ship through:
 And they cried, as they sunk on that dark rolling river,
 We'll die at our guns! cried the Cumberlands crew.
 Slowly she sank in the dark rolling waters,
 Their voices on earth will be heard ne'er more
 They'll be wept by Columbia's brave sons and fair daughters,
 May their blood be avenged on Virginia's old shore.
 And if ever sailors in battle assemble
 God bless our dear Banner, the Red, White and Blue!
 Beneath its proud folds, we'll cause tyrans to tremble,
 Or sink at our guns, like the Cumberland's crew!