've sail'd with valiant Howe, I've sail'd with noble Jarvis,

And in gallant Duncan's fleet I've sung out yo

heave ho!

Yet more shall ye be knowing,

I was Cockswain to Boscawen,

And even with brave Hawke, I've nobly fac'd the foe.

Then put round the grog,

So we've that and our prog,

We'll laugh in care's face and sing, yo heave ho. When from my love to part I first weighed anchor, And she was snivelling seen on the beach below, I'd like to cotch'd my eyes snivelling too, d'ye see to thank her,

But I brought my sorrows up with a yo heave ho;
For sailors, though they have their jokes,
They love and feel like other folks,

Their duty to neglect must not come for to go;
So I seiz'd the capstan bar,

Like a true honest tar,

And in spite of tears and sighs sung yo heave ho.

But the worst on't was that time, when the little ones were sickly,

And if they'd live or die the doctors did not know, The word was gov'd to weigh so sudden and so quickly,

I thought my heart would break as I sung yo heave ho,

For Poll's so like her mother;

And as for Jack, her brother,

The boy, when he grows up will nobly fight the foe; But in Providence I trust,

What must be, must,

So my sighs I gave the winds, and sung out yo heave ho.

And now at last, laid up in a decentish condition,
For I've only lost an eye, and got a timber toe;
But old ships must expect in time to be out of com-
mission,

Nor again the anchor weigh with a yo heave ho.
So I smoke my pipe and sing old songs,

For my boy shall revenge my wrongs, And my girl shall breed young sailors nobly for to face the foe.

Then to country and king,

Fate no danger can bring,

While the tars of old England sing out yo heave ho.

I'D BLUSH-BUT I COULD NOT REFUSE HIM.

WHENEVER a lad, that's good humour'd and free,
Entreats a lover to choose him,

I vow in good faith I can't possibly see
What reason I'd have to refuse him..

Instead of consid'ring his suit as amiss,
With smiles I would kindly amuse him;
And, should the dear creature solicit a kiss,
I'd blush, but I could not refuse him.

When, talking of marriage, he utters a vow,
With caution I then could peruse him ;
But, if he were constant, I cannot see how
I could have the heart to refuse him.

Why should any lass to comply be afraid,
And run such a hazard to lose him.
She soon may be sorry, and die an old maid,
Who makes it her boast to refuse him.

1

BLACK EY'D SUSAN.

BY GAY.

ALL in the Downs the fleet was moor'd,
The streamers waving to the wind;
When black ey'd Susan came on board,
Oh! where shall I my true love find?
Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
If my sweet William sails among your crew.

William, who high upon the yard,

Rock'd by the billows to and fro; Soon as her well known voice he heard, He sigh'd, and cast his eyes below.

The cord glides swiftly through his glowing hands, And quick as lightning on the deck he stands.

So the sweet lark, high pois'd in air,
Sauts close in his pinions to his breast,
If chance his mate's shrill call he hear,
And drops at once into her nest;
The noblest captain in the British fleet,
Might envy William's lips those kisses sweet.

Oh! Susan, Susan, lovely dear!

My vows shall ever true remain ;
Let me kiss off that falling tear;
We only part to meet again.

Change, as ye list, ye winds, my heart shall be
The faithful compass that still points to thee.

Though battles call me from thy arms,
Let not my pretty Susan mourn

Though cannons roar, vet safe from harms,
William shall to his dear return.

Love turns aside the balls that round me fly: Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye.

Believe not what the landsmen say,

Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind, They'll tell thee, sailors when away;

In every port a mistress find:

Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so
For thou art present whereso'er I go.

If to fair India's coast we sail,

Thine eyes are seen in diamonds bright: Thy breath in Afric's spicy gale,

Thy skin in ivory so white:

Thus every beauteous object that I view,
Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue.

The boatswain gave the dreadful word,
The sails their swelling bosom spread;
No longer must she stay aboard;

They kiss'd; she sigh'd; he hung his head.
Her less'ning boat unwilling rows to land,
Adieu! she cried, and wav'd her lily hand.

LOCHINVAR.

BY WALTER SCOTT.

O YOUNG Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide border his steed was the best, And save his good broad sword he weapons had

none,

He rode all unarm'd and he rode all alone;
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar,

He staid not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone, He swam the Eske river where ford there was

none;

But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,

The bride had consented, the gallant came late;
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

So boldly he enter'd the Netherby hall,

And bridesmen, and kismen, and brothers and all ; Then spoke the bride's father his hand on his sword, For the poor craven bridegroom, spoke never a word;

"O come ye in peace here or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young lord Lochinvar.”

"I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied, Love swells like Solway, but ebbs like its tide, And now am I come with this lost love of mine, To tread but one measure, drink one cup of wine; There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochin var."

The bride kiss'd the goblet, the knight took it up, He quaff'd off the wine and he threw down the

cup,

She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh,
With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye;
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,
Now tread we a measure,
said young
Lochinvar.

So stately his form and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a galliard did grace;
While her mother did fret, and her father did
fume,

And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;