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The Coast Of Mexico.


AIR. — "Lucy Neal."

We're wearied with this cruising — this sailing to and fro,
Where the giant sure is rolling, and the ‘northers’ hoarsely blow,
We came to fight our enemy — to lay their leaders low,
But here we're forced to cruise on the coast of Mexico.

Without an aim or object, we're roaming to and fro —
Clean shirts are at a premium, and ‘duff’ is and the go.
We came to drub the Mexicans, the stars and stripes to show,
And not to cruise inglorious on the coast of Mexico.

Success unto the ‘Albany’ — with snowy wings she flies,
Like a meteor, o'er the ocean, in search of enemies;
We ‘nab’ their laggard vessels, but ‘Conner’ lets them go;
And sends us then to cruise again on the coast of Mexico.

The war is not yet ended — ‘San Juan’ grimly stands,
A safeguard and protection for renegado bands;


They think their fort impregnable, and laugh to see us show
A puny force, like ours, on the coast of Mexico.

But Scott will soon be knocking at their strongest city's gate;
He'll take a ‘plate of soup’ with them, we ‘guess’ and ‘calculate;’
And ships are hither coming that will lay their castle low —
We'll give them fits, ere long, on the coast of Mexico.