Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE BALLAD OF JEAN LAFITTE, by LOIA C. CHEANEY



Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

Rhyming Dictionary Search
THE BALLAD OF JEAN LAFITTE, by            
First Line: I'll sing the ballad of jean lafitte
Last Line: "lies all my treasure alone."
Subject(s): Lafitte, John (1780-1826); Pirates; Piracy; Buccaneers


I'LL sing the ballad of Jean Lafitte,
A right good man was he,
For he was tall and brave and strong
And learned in gallantry.

In Louis' town in early days
He felt the wanderlust;
With his stern bright eyes as cold as steel
He picked his men of trust.

A hundred and twenty who sought romance
And craved life daring and free
Called Jean Lafitte their captain brave
And they lived right merrily.

He sailed the gulf and captured the ships
Of Mexico, England and Spain,
And with the treasure, he as king
On Galveston island did reign.

Now on this island there were three trees,
Three trees alone were there,
He took the island from Indian braves
But he treated them good and square.

In a large Red House this pirate prince
Held court right royally
With all his men dressed up in gold —
They served him loyally.

Old Louis' regent sent a notice wide
That for Jean's own handsome head
He'd give a bounty of good red gold
To the one who would bring him dead.

But Jean, the daring and jovial knave,
Laughed at this with glee,
And he offered back the same reward
To the one who would make so free.

And many's the time he would lay his head
Against this self-same card
While he laughed and joked with the chief gendarme
And called the man his pard.

But as time went on adventures palled,
He ordered his tribe to disband,
And with gloomy step and broken heart
He paced the glistening sand.

And three of his men from a sheltered nook
Heard as he paced, a groan,
"Under the trees, the three lone trees
Lies all my treasure alone."

With gluttonous greed they chose their tools
And quickly sped them there;
They dug the earth and found in the soil
The corpse of a maiden fair.

It was his wife—his fair young wife
And 'twas not Spanish gold,
They tremblingly cursed as they crossed themselves
In the damp night air and cold.

Then Jean Lafitte in a scarlet suit
Went sailing out in the bay,
His good ship "Pride" from Texas shore
Carried him far away.

But oft in the night in Galveston
His spirit is heard to moan,
"Under the trees—the three lone trees
Lies all my treasure alone."





Other Poems of Interest...



Home: PoetryExplorer.net