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From the Castle Spectre.Music by STORACE.

EACEFUL slumb'ring on the ocean,

Seamen fear no danger nigh;
The winds and waves, in gentle motion,

Soothe them with their lullaby.

Is the wind tempestuous blowing,

Still no dangers they descry;
The guileless heart its boon bestowing,

Soothes them with its lullaby.



WHREE fishers went sailing out into the

west, Out into the west as the sun went

down; Each thought on the woman who loved him the best, And the children stood watching them out of the



For men must work and women must weep,
And there's little to earn, and


to keep, Though the harbour bar be moaning.

Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower,
And they trimmed the lamps as the sun went

down; They looked at the squall and they looked at the

shower, And the night-rack came rolling up ragged and

But men must work and women must weep,
Though storms be sudden and waters deep,

And the harbour bar be moaning.

Three corpses lay out on the shining sands,

In the morning gleam as the tide went down,
And the women are weeping and wringing their hands
For those who will never come back to the town.

For men must work, and women mußt weep,
And the sooner it's over, the sooner to sleep,

And good-bye to the bar and its ng.



HE storm o'er the ocean flew furious and

fast, And the waves rose in foam at the voice

of the blast; And heavily laboured the gale-beaten ship, Like a stout-hearted swimmer, the spray at his lip;

And dark was the sky o'er the mariner's path,
Except when the lightning illumed it in wrath.
A young mother knelt in the cabin below,
And pressing her babe to her bosom of snow,
She prayed to her God ʼmid the hurricane wild,
“Oh, Father! have mercy, look down on my child.”
It passed.—The fierce whirlwind careered on its way,
And the ship like an arrow divided the spray;
Her sails glimmered white in the beams of the moon,
And the breeze up aloft seemed to whistle a tune.
There was joy in the ship as she furrowed the foam,
For fond hearts within her were dreaming of home.
The young mother pressed her fond babe to her

And sang a sweet song as she rock'd it to rest;
And the husband sat cheerily down by her side
And looked with delight on the face of his bride.
“Oh! happy,” said he, “when our roaming is o'er,
We'll dwell in our cottage that stands by the shore,
Already, in fancy, its roof I descry,
And the smoke of its hearth curling up to the sky,
Its garden so green and its vine-cover'd wall,
The kind friends awaiting to welcome us all,
And the children that sport by the old oaken tree.”
Ah! gently the ship glided over the sea.
Hark! what was that? Hark, hark, to the shout!
Fire !—Then a tramp—and a rout-
And an uproar of voices arose in the air,
And the mother knelt down—and the half-spoken

prayer That she offer'd to God in her agony wild Was “ Father, have mercy, look down on my child.” She flew to her husband, she clung to his side, Oh! there was her refuge whate'er might betide.

Fire! fire ! it was raging above and below.
And the cheeks of the sailors grew pale at the sight,
And their eyes glistened wild in the glare of the

'Twas vain o'er the ravage the waters to drip,
The pitiless flame was the lord of the ship!
And the smoke in thick wreaths mounted higher

and higher! Oh God! it is fearful to perish by fire! Alone with destruction, alone on the sea, Great Father of mercy, our hope is in Thee! Sad at heart and resigned, yet undaunted and brave, They lowered the boat—a mere speck on the wave. First entered the mother enfolding her child, It knew she caressed it, looked upwards and smiled! Cold, cold was the night as they drifted away, And mistily dawned o'er the pathway, the day; And they prayed for the light, and at noontide about, The sun o'er the waters shone joyously out. “ Ho! a sail! ho! a sail !" cried the man on the lee, “Ho! a sail!” and they turn'd their glad eyes o’er

the sea. They see us! They see us! The signal is waved! They bear down upon us !

Thank God! we are saved!”

From The Myrtle and the Vine.”
G’YE mind me? I once was a sailor,

And in different countries I've been,
If I lie, may I go for a tailor!

But a thousand fine sights I have seen; I've been cramm'd with good things like a wallet,

And I've guzzled more drink than a whale; But the very best stuff to my palate

Is a glass of your English good ale.

Your doctors may boast of their lotions,

And ladies may talk of their tea ;
But I envy them none of their potions-

A glass of good stingo for me!
The doctor may sneer if he pleases,

But my recipe never will fail,
For the physic that cures all diseases

Is a bumper of English good ale.

When my trade was upon the salt ocean,

Why, there I had plenty of grog;
And I liked it, because I'd a notion

It sets one's good spirits agog;
But since upon land I've been steering,

Experience has alter'd my tale,
For nothing on earth is so cheering

As a bumper of English good ale.



F Nelson and the North

Sing the glorious day's renown
When to battle fierce came forth

All the might of Denmark's crown,
And her arms along the deep proudly shone:

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