Oh, to be home again, home again, home again! Under the apple-boughs, down by the mill! - James Thomas Fields

The skipper stormed and tore his hair, Hauled on his boots and roared at Marden—
"Nantucket's sunk and here we are
Right over old Marm Hackett’s garden!"

Just then, with a wink and a sly normal lurch,
The owl very gravely got down from his perch,
Walked round, and regarded his fault-finding critic
(Who thought he was stuffed) with a glance analytic.

Rally round the flag, boys—
Give it to the breeze!
That's the banner that we bore
On the land and seas.
Brave hearts are under it,
Let the traitors brag,
Gallant lads, fire away!
And fight for the flag.
Their flag is but a rag—
Ours is the true one;
Up with the Stars and Stripes! with the new one!
Let our colors fly, boys—
Guard them day and night;
For victory is liberty,
And God will bless the right.