What of perils that, always the same, are so various, And though shot-holes and leaks leave wide open

Death's doors ? Devil a risk's in a battle, were't not so precarious ; Storms were all gig and fun, but for breakers and

shores : In short, a tar's life—you may say that I told it, Who leaves quiet and peace, foreign countries to

roam, Is, all lives, I'll be bound to uphold it, The best life in the world, next to staying at home.

Then push round the can, &c.


HIS life is like a troubled sea,

Where, helm a-weather or a-lee,
The ship will neither stay nor wear,

But drives, of every rock in fear:
All seamanship in vain we try,
We cannot keep her steadily;
But, just as Fortune's wind may blow,
The vessel's tosticated to and fro:
Yet, come but love on board,
Our hearts with pleasure stored
No storm can overwhelm :

Still blows in vain

The hurricane,
While love is at the helm.



INCE fate of sailors hourly varies,
Lest doubts should wound


anxious breast,

This pretty bird, from the Canaries,
Jack brought, to set my heart at rest:
“ His life is charm’d, and when with sadness,"
Cried he, “his notes he mournful gives,

Then cherish care,

Indulge despair;
But sweetly, if they thrill with gladness,
Rejoice, and know your lover lives :

Attentive mark !

Hark! hark !
Rejoice, and know your lover lives.”

Each hour, while my poor bosom flutters,

Relying on my lover's word,
Anxious to hear the song he utters,

I listen to my pretty bird :
But, thanks to Heaven ! never with sadness
Has he yet mourn'd; even now he gives

(To silence care,

And chase despair,)
His sprightly notes with joy and gladness;
And thus I know my lover lives.

Attentive mark !

Hark! hark ! 'Tis thus I know my lover lives.

But see, he's here ! my heart's contented

Sweet warbler, truly didst thou speak. “ Dear love !” cried Jack, “'twas all invented,

Lest thy poor heart my fate might break. Love taught the cheat, to cheer thy sadness, And cheats of love true love forgives ;

This anxious care

Heal'd thy despair;
Birds always sing with joy and gladness;
Thy love to thee and honour lives :

Attentive mark !

Hark! hark !
Thy love to thee and honour lives."


OUR finikin sirs may in finery appear,
Disdaining such tars as can hand, reef,

and steer;
On the deck, spruce as tailors, may

cautiously tread,
And live at the stern, without minding the head.
Old tough experienced sailors know,

Where'er they take their trip, Whether rising on mountains, or sinking below,

The forecastle mans the ship.

Your delicate fresh-water masters may treat
With dainties, and like guttling aldermen eat,
Turn cabins to drawing-rooms, sleep on a bed,
And despise English biscuit, to nibble French bread,

Old tough, &c.


N either eye a lingering tear,

His love and duty well to prove, Jack left his wife and children dear,

Impelld by honour and by love ; And as he loiter'd, wrapp'd in care,

A sapling in his hand he bore, Curiously carved, in letters fair

“ Love me! ah, love me evermore !”

At leisure to behold his worth,

Tokens, and rings, and broken gold, He plunged the sapling firm in earth,

And o’er and o'er his treasure told; The letters spelt, the kindness traced,

And all affection's precious store, Each with the favourite motto graced

“ Love me! ah, love me evermore !”.

While on this anxious task employ'd,

Tender remembrance all his care, His ears are suddenly annoy'd

The boatswain's whistle cleaves the air: 'Tis duty calls; his nerves are braced ;

He rushes to the crowded shore, Leaving the sapling, in his haste,

That bids him love for evermore.

The magic branch thus unreclaim'd,

Far off at sea, no comfort near,
His thoughtless haste he loudly blamed,

With many a sigh and many a tear ;

Yet why act this unmanly part ?

The words the precious relic bore, Are they not mark'd upon my heart ?

“ Love me! ah, love me evermore !”

Escaped from treacherous waves and winds,

That three years he had felt at sea,
A wondrous miracle he finds

The sapling is become a tree.
A goodly head that graceful rears,

Enlarged the trunk, enlarged the core; And on the rind enlarged appears,

“ Love me! ah, love me evermore!"

While gazing on the spell-like charms

Of this most wonderful of trees, His Nancy rushes to his arms,

His children cling about his knees. Increased in love, increased in size,

Taught from the mother's tender store, Each little urchin, lisping, cries

“Love me! ah, love me evermore!”.

Amazement seized the admiring crowd ;

“My children !” cried a village seer, “ These signs, though mute, declare aloud

The hand of Providence is here, Whose hidden, yet whose sure decrees

For those its succour who implore, Can still the tempest, level seas,

And crown true love for evermore.

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