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An abbey-tow'r, an harbour-fort,
“ By the mark---seven!" And as the much-loy'd shore we near,
With transport we beheld the roof Where dwelt a friend or partner dear,
Of faith and love a matchless proof. The lead once more the seaman Aung! And to the watchful pilot sung,
" Quarter less---five ! Now to her birth the ship draws nigh;
We shorten sail.--she feels the tide... “ Stand clear the cable is the cry.-
The anchor's gone; we safely ride. The watch is set, and through the night, We hear the seamen with delight,
Proclaim, “ All's well!”
THE CHRISTIAN SAILOR. COME, never seem to mind it,
Nor count your fate a curse,
Yet, somebody is worse :
Yet why should we despair,
They still are fortune's care. Why when our vessel blew up,
A fighting that there Don, Like squibs and crackers flew up
The crew, each mother's son; They sunk: some rigging stop'd me short,
While twirling in the air, And thus, if tars, &c.
Young Peg, of Portsmouth Common,
Had like t'have been my wife;
I'd led a pretty life :
She convoy'd to Horn Fair,
My bowsprit's gone, I cries : Yet well it kept their blaws off,
Thank God, 'twas not my eyes ;
Let's hope I've had my share,
Glad for my eyes and limbs,
Both my two precious glims; .
Yet fate my life did spare,
Yet cheerfully would sing,
'Cause why? --.'Twas for my king : Besides each christian's exhort,
Pleas'd, will some pity spare;
They still are fortune's eare.
BIBO. WHEN Bibo went down to the regions below, Where Lethe and Styx round eternity flow, He wak'd in the boat, and would be row'd back, For his soul it was thirsty, and wanted some sack; But Charon replied, “ You were drunk when you - dy'd, “ For you ne'er felt the pain that to death is ally'd,'' “ Take me back," cried old Bibo, “I mind not
the pain, " For if I was drunk, let me die once again.” “ Forget," reply'd Charon, “ these regions of strife, Drink of Lethe divine, iris the fountain of life: Where the soul is new born, and all past is a dream, E’en the gods themselves sip of the care drowning
stream," « The gods!” reply'd Bibo, “drink water who will, For the maxims of mortals l'll ever fulfill; So prate not to me of your Lethe divine, Our Lethe on earth is a bumper of wine," At length grim old Cerberus began his loud roar, When the old crazy bark struck the Stygian shore Then Bibo awoke, and he stagger'd to land, And he jostled the ghosts as they stood on the
strand. Says Charon, “ I tell you, 'tis vain to rebel, For you are banislı'd from earth, and now are in
hell;" That's a truth,” cry'd old Bibo, “ I know by this s
sign, 'Tis a hell upon earth to be wanting of wine."
BEGONE, DULL CARE. BEGONE, dull care, I pr’ythee begone from me, Begone, dull care, thou and I shall never agree; Long time thou hast been tarrying here,
And fain thou wouldst me kill,
Thou never shall have thy will.
My wife shall dance and I will sing,
So merrily pass the day;
To drive dull care away.
* * * * * * * * *
THE POST CAPTAIN.
WHEN Steerwell heard me first impart
Our brave commander's story, With ardent zeal his youthful heart
Swell'd high for naval glory; Resolv'd to gain a valiant name,
For bold adventures cager,
He would hold on the jigger..
yeo, yeo, yeo, yeo, -yeo, heave yeo.
To hand top-ga'nt-sails next he learn'd,
With quickness, care, and spirit,
And priz'd his dawning merit,
When storms convuls'd the ocean,
Which mark'd him for proinotion. As none to the pilot e'er answer'd like he, When he gave the command hard a port, helm
Luff, boy, luff, keep her near,
Clear the buoy, make the pier, None to the pilot answer'd like he When he gave the command in the pool or at sea, Hard aport helm a lee.
For valour, skill, and worth renown'd,
The foe he oft defeated ;
And now with fame and fortune crown'd,
Post captain he is rated :
Still bravely would defend her;
He'll prove his heart as tender.
Wounded tars share his wealth,
All the feet drink his health,
· YE GENTLEMEN OF ENGLAND. YE gentlemen of England, who live at home at
ease, Ah! little do you think on the dangers of the seas, Give ear unto the mariners, and they will plainly shew
All the cares
And the fears, When the stormy winds do blow. In claps of roaring thunder, which darkness do
enforce, We often find our ships to stray beyond our wonted.
course, Which causeth great destruction, and sinks our hearts full low,
. 'Tis in vain
To complain, When the stormy winds do blow. If enemies oppose us, when England is at war With any foreign nation, we fear no wound or scar;.. Our roaring guns shall teach them our valor for to