Stark staring with joy I leap'd out of my skin, Buss'd my wife, mother, sister, and all of my kin. Now, cried I, let them roam
Who want a good home;
I am well, so I'll keep,
Nor again leave my plough to go ploughing the deep: Once more shall the horn
Nor shall any damn'd carfindo, nor the inconstant wind,
E'er tempt me for to go and leave my dear behind.
HE wind was hush'd, the fleecy wave
Scarcely the vessel's sides could lave,
When in the mizen-top his stand
Tom Clueline, taking, spied the land.
Oh, sweet reward for all his toil,
Once more he views his native soil-
Once more he thanks indulgent Fate,
That brings him to his bonny Kate.
Soft as the sighs of Zephyr flow,
Tender and plaintive as her woe,
Serene was the attentive eve,
That heard Tom's bonny Kitty grieve.
"Oh, what avails," cried she, "my pain?
He's swallow'd in the greedy main:
Ah, never shall I welcome home
With tender joy my honest Tom !"
Now high upon the faithful shroud,
The land awhile that seem'd a cloud,
While objects from the mist arise,
A feast presents Tom's longing eyes.
A riband near his heart which lay,
Now see him on his hat display,
The given sign to show that Fate
Had brought him safe to bonny Kate.
Near to a cliff, whose heights command
A prospect of the shelly strand,
While Kitty Fate and Fortune blamed,
Sudden with rapture she exclaim'd—
"But see, O Heaven! a ship in view,
My Tom appears among the crew;
The pledge he swore to bring safe home
Streams in his hat-'tis honest Tom!"
What now remains were easy told:
Tom comes, his pockets lined with gold;
Now rich enough no more to roam,
To serve his king he stays at home;
Recounts each toil, and shows each scar,
While Kitty and her constant tar
With rev'rence teach to bless their fates-
Young honest Toms and bonny Kates.
JACK just come home, his pockets lined, In search of Poll, his only pleasure, To Pickle Stairs his course inclined, In her fair lap to pour his treasure; But scarce arrived at famed Rag Fair, Where the keen Jew the clodpole fleeces, His whistle turn'd into a stare
At, "Come, who'll buy my water-cresses ?"
He starts, and trembles at the sound,
Which now is heard, and now obstructed,
And now his hopes are all aground,
And now 'tis to his ear conducted: "Zounds!" cried out Jack, I know that phizBut then such togs-they're all to pieces! Why, it can't be !-damme it is'Tis Poll a-bawling water-cresses."
And now she's in his arms, while he
Bids her relate Fortune's reverses;
The world finds faithless as the sea,
And loads false friends, in troops, with curses. "They took," cried she, my very bed;
The sticks they seized, and sold in pieces;
So to get a bit of honest bread,
I cries, Who'll buy my water-cresses?"
"Still art thou rich, my girl,” cried Jack,
"And still shall taste each earthly pleasure;
Thou'rt true, though rags are on thy back,
And honour, Poll,'s a noble treasure.
In this gay tog-shop rigg'd so neat,
Ill-fortune from this moment ceases;"
This said, he scatter'd in the street
Basket, and rags, and water-cresses.
SCAPED with life, in tatters,
Behold me safe ashore;
Such trifles little matters,
I'll soon get togs galore:
For Poll swore, when we parted,
No chance her faith should jar,
And Poll's too tender-hearted
To slight a Shipwreck'd Tar.
To Poll his course straight steering,
He hastens on apace;
Poor Jack can't get a hearing
She never saw his face.
From Meg, Doll, Sue, and Kitty,
Relief is just as far,
Not one has the least pity
For a poor Shipwreck'd Tar.
This, whom he thought love's needle,
Now his sad mis'ry mocks,
That wants to call the beadle
To set him in the stocks.
Cried Jack, this is hard dealing:
The elements at war
Than this had kinder feeling,
They spared the Shipwreck'd Tar.
But all their taunts and fetches
A judgment are on me;
I, for these harden'd wretches,
Dear Nancy, slighted thee.
But see, poor Tray assails me,
His mistress is not far,
He wags his tail and hails me,
Though a poor Shipwreck'd Tar.
'Twas faithful love that brought him— Oh, lesson for mankind!
'Tis one, cried she, I taught him;
For on my constant mind
Thine image, dear, was graven;
And now, removed each bar,
My arms shall be the haven
For my poor Shipwreck'd Tar.
Heaven and my love reward thee!
I'm shipwreck'd, but I'm rich;
All shall with pride regard thee-
Thy love shall so bewitch
With wonder each fond fancy,
That children, near and far,
Shall lisp the name of Nancy,
Who saved her Shipwreck'd Tar!
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