A fleet with flags arrayed
       &nbsp Sailed from the port of Brest,
And the Admiral's ship displayed
       &nbsp The signal: "Steer southwest."
For this Admiral D'Anville
       &nbsp Had sworn by cross and crown
To ravage with fire and steel
       &nbsp Our helpless Boston Town.

There were rumors in the street,
       &nbsp In the houses there was fear
Of the coming of the fleet,
       &nbsp And the danger hovering near.
And while from mouth to mouth
       &nbsp Spread the tidings of dismay,
I stood in the Old South,
       &nbsp Saying humbly: "Let us pray!

"O Lord! we would not advise;
       &nbsp But if in thy Providence
A tempest should arise
       &nbsp To drive the French fleet hence,
And scatter it far and wide,
       &nbsp Or sink it in the sea,
We should be satisfied,
       &nbsp And thine the glory be."
This was the prayer I made,
       &nbsp For my soul was all on flame,
And even as I prayed
       &nbsp The answering tempest came;
It came with a mighty power,
       &nbsp Shaking the windows and walls,
And tolling the bell in the tower,
       &nbsp As it tolls at funerals.

The lightning suddenly
       &nbsp Unsheathed its flaming sword,
And I cried: "Stand still, and see
       &nbsp The salvation of the Lord!"
The heavens were black with cloud,
       &nbsp The sea was white with hail,
And ever more fierce and loud
       &nbsp Blew the October gale.

The fleet it overtook,
       &nbsp And the broad sails in the van
Like the tents of Cushan shook,
       &nbsp Or the curtains of Midian.
Down on the reeling decks
       &nbsp Crashed the o'erwhelming seas;
Ah, never were there wrecks
       &nbsp So pitiful as these!
Like a potter's vessel broke
       &nbsp The great ships of the line;
They were carried away as a smoke,
       &nbsp Or sank like lead in the brine.
O Lord! before thy path
       &nbsp They vanished and ceased to be,
When thou didst walk in wrath
       &nbsp With thine horses through the sea!