« ForrigeFortsett »
“But should I be popp'd off, you, my mates left
behind me, Regard my last words, see them kindly cbey'd : Let no stone mark the spot: and, my friends, do you
Near the beach is the grave where Will Watch
would be laid.” Poor Will's yarn was spun out, for a bullet next
minute Laid him low on the deck, and he never spoke
His bold crew fought the brig while a shot remain'd
Then sheer'd, and Will's hulk to his Susan they
In the dead of the night his last wish was complied
with; To few known his grave, and to few known his end, He was borne to the earth by the crew that he died
He'd the tears of his Susan—the prayers of each
friend. Near his grave dash the billows, the winds loudly
bellow; Yon ash, struck with lightning, points out the cold
bed Where Will Watch the bold smuggler, that famed
lawless fellow, Once fear’d, now forgot, sleeps in peace
with the dead.
H, pilot ! 'tis a fearful night,
There's danger on the deep;
I do not dare to sleep.”
This is no place for thee;
Wherever thou mayst be.”
“Ah, pilot! dangers often met
We all are apt to slight,
But to subdue their might.' “ It is not apathy,” he cried,
“ That gives this strength to me; Fear not, but trust in Providence,
Wherever thou mayst be.
« On such a night the sea engulpl’d
My father's lifeless form ;
In just so wild a storm;
But still I say to thee,
Wherever thou mayst be.”
TOPSAILS SHIVER IN THE WIND.-1804.
HE topsails shiver in the wind,
The ship she casts to sea;
Are, Mary, moor’d with thee;
Should landsmen flatter when we're sail'd,
Oh, doubt their artful tales;
If love breathed constant gales :
Syrens in ev'ry port we meet,
More fell than rocks or waves ;
Are lovers and not slaves :
These are our cares—but if you're kind,
We'll scorn the dashing main,
The power of France and Spain.
THE BATTLE OF LA HOGUE OR
HURSDAY in the morn, the nineteenth
of May, Recorded for ever the famous ninety
The lofty sails of France advancing to.
Follow me, you shall see
Tournville on the main triumphant rollid
To meet the gallant Russell in combat on the deep; He led a noble train of heroes bold,
To sink the English admiral at his feet.
Whilst a flood, all of blood,
With thunder and wonder affright the Gallic shore; Their regulated bands stood trembling near,
To see their lofty streamers now no more.
To give a second blow, the fatal overthrow.
Now death and horror equal reign:
Now they cry, Run or die,
See, they fly, amazed, through rocks and sands!
One danger they grasp at, to shun the greater fate. In vain they cry for aid to weeping lands,
The nymphs and sea-gods mourn their lost estate. For evermore adieu, thou dazzling Royal Sun ! From thy untimely end thy master's fato’s begun; Enough, thou mighty god of war;
Now we sing, bless the king! Let us drink to every British tar.
ROLL, LIQUID MOUNTAINS, ROLL.
D. BRUGUIER, 1803.
Shake from your heads the hoary spray,
Though dangerspreads his pathless way.
Blow, tempests, blow,
The seaman braves the dreadful crash,
Assaulted by the foaming surge,
Flash, vivid lightnings, flash, &c.