SONG XXXVI. THE STORM. BY MR. GEORGE ALEXANDER STEVENS. CEASE, rude Boreas, blust'ring railer! To the tempest-troubled ocean, Where the seas contend with skies! Hark! the boatswain hoarsely bawling, "By topsail-sheets, and haulyards stand; 'Down top-gallants quick be hawling, 'Down your stay-sails, hand, boys, hand! 'Now it freshens, set the braces, 'The topsail-sheets now let go; 'Luff, boys, luff! don't make wry faces, 'Up your topsails nimbly clew.' Now all you on down-beds sporting, Harder yet, it yet blows harder, Now again the boatswain calls! 'The top-sail yards point to the wind, boys, 'See all clear to reef each course; 'Let the fore-sheet go, don't mind, boys, Though the weather should be worse. Fore and aft the sprit-sail yard get, 'Reef the mizen, see all clear; Man the fore-yard; cheer, lads, cheer!' Now the dreadful thunder roaring, All above us one black sky, Different deaths at once surround us, 'The foremast's gone (cries every tongue out) "Quick the lanyards cut to pieces, Come, my hearts, be stout and bold; 'Plumb the well-the leak increases, Four feet water in the hold.' While o'er the ship wild waves are beating, Alas! from hence there's no retreating, Alas! to them there's no return. Still the leak is gaining on us, Both chain-pumps are chok'd below. VOL. II. Heav'n have mercy here upon us! 'O'er the lee-beam is the land, boys, • See! our mizen-mast is gone. 'She rights, she rights, boys, we're off shore.' Now once more on joys we're thinking, Since kind Heav'n has sav'd our lives; Close to our lips a brimmer join; SONG XXXVII. NEPTUNE'S RAGING FURY: OR, THE GALLANT SEAMEN'S SUFFERINGS.* You gentlemen of England, That live at home at ease, The dangers of the seas: • 'Being a relation of their perils and dangers, and of the extra'ordinary hazards they undergo in their noble adventures: together Give çar unto the mariners, And they will plainly show All When the stormy winds do blow. you that will be seamen, For when you come upon the seas In hail, rain, blow, or snow, When the stormy winds do blow. The bitter storms and tempests Poor seamen do endure; Both day and night, with many a fright, We seldom rest secure. Our sleep it is disturbed With visions strange to know,' In claps of roaring thunder, Which darkness doth enforce, Beyond our wonted course; ' with their undaunted valour, and rare constancy in all their extre'mities: and the manner of their rejoycing on shore, at their return home.' Title. This is altered from an older ballad, written by Martin Parker; an early printed copy of which, in black letter, under the title of 'Saylors for my money,'—' to the tune of the Joviall Cobler,'—is in the Pepysian library, at Magdalen college, Cambridge. Which causeth great distractions, When the stormy winds do blow. Sometimes in Neptune's bosom Then down again we fall to prayer, 'Tis that must bear us out : The lawyer and the usurer, That sit in gowns of fur, In closets warm can take no harm, When winter fierce with cold doth pierce, We are sure to endure, When the stormy winds do blow. We bring home costly merchandise, |