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And keep from dangerous seas aloof; Who careless listen to the hlast,

Or beating rains upon the roof; You little heed how seamen fareCondemnd the angry storm to bear,

Sometimes, while breakers vex the tide,

He takes his station on the deck; And now, lash'd to the vessel's side,

He clears away the cumb'ring wreck; Yet, while the billows o'er him foan, The ocean is his only home!

Still fresher blows the midnight gale!

All hands reef topsails, are the cries !
And while the clouds the heavens veil,

Aloft to reef the sails he Aies !
In storms so rending doom'd to roam,
The ocean is the seaman's home,

The father of Nancy a forester was,

And an honest old woodman was he, And Nancy, a beautiful, innocent lass,

As the sun in his circuit could see. She gather'd wild flowers, and lilies, and roses, And cry'd thro' the village-"Coine buy my sweet posies."

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The charms of this fair ope a villager caught,

A noble aud rich one was he, Great offers he made, but by Vaney was taught,

That a poor girl right honest might be. She still gather'd wild flowers, and lilies, and roses, And cry'd thro' the village--" Come buy my

sweet posies."

The father of Nancy a forester was,

And a poor little stroller was she;
But her lover so noble soon married the lass;

She's as happy as maiden could be:
No inore gather'd wild flowers, and lilies, and

roses, Nor cry'd through the village“ Come buy my

sweet poşies.”

I

BE one of the sailors who think 'tis no lie,

That for every wherefore in life there's a why; That, be fortune's strange weather a frown or a

squail, Our lives, good or bad, are chalk'd out for us all; That the stays and the braces of life will be found To be some of them rotten, and some of them

sound : That the good we should cherish, the bad never

seek; For death will too soon bring each anchor a-peaka When astride on the yard, the top-lifts they let go, And I came like a shut plump among them below,

Why

Why I catch'd at a halyard, and jump'd upon deck, And so broke

my fall to save breaking my neck; Just like your philosophers, for all their jaw, Who, less than a rope, gladly catch at a straw.

Thus the good, &c. Why now that there cruise that we made off the

banks, Where I pepper'd the foe, and got shot for my

thanks; What then? she soon struck; and tho crippled on

shore, And laid up to refit, I had shiners galore. At length 'live and looking, I try'd the false main, And to get more prize inoney got shot at again.

Thus the good, &c. Then just as it comes, take the bad with the good; Oneman's spoon's made of silver,another of wood; What's poison for one man's another man's balm; Some are safe in a storm, and some lost in a calm; Some are rolling in riches, some not worth a souse; To-day we eat beef, and to-morrowlob's scouse.

Thus the good, &c.

WHY, Measter, damn tha, whoa beest thee?

Don't eitther, Zur, but hire ma:
I weddent a bin so plain and free,

But thy discourse do tire ma.
Great as thee beest, tha canst not doine,

At feasts in London zitty;
Or zlobber zaace, or guzzle wine,
"Till zitch as I parmmitty.
1 2

Then

Then zee ma doant despoise a frind,

Akiaze theeist little higher;
The oak's best kept away from wind,

That's shelter'd by the briar.
But when tha com'st to London town,

And art lavishing thy shiners,
Tell um zum zartie thee left's down

'Mongst sturdy Cornish Miners.

Now who be I, and who beest thee;

The coal that's dug to warm tha; The tar, that shippen zends to zee,

That foreign toe may'nt harm tha:
The tin, that makes thy pots and pans,

Thy culinders and kettles,
Thy snuffers, candlesticks, and cans,

And kivers for thy victuals;
Who digs for’t, dost the think, but I?

Don't grin, theest not become it;
No varsal mite below the sky
But, dammut 's, good for summut.

So when, &c.

If thee of sweethearts hast a score

To pamper up thy fally,
Why, I've a hundred, Zur, and more,

And aal in lovely Mally,
But, faith and saule, I be so loath

To treat thee naulens vaulens,
Theedst knaw else, he that made us boath,

Made happiness for all ons.

Then

Then haume, and tell 'em, faath and suare,

All they that gold bewitches,
That zum be richer thof, they'ın poor,
Than zum that rauls in riches.

So when, &c.

THE
THE decks were clear’d, the gallant band

Of British tars each other cheering,
Each kindly shook his messmate's hand,

With hearts resolu'd, no danger fearing; Ben Block turn'd pale, yet 'twas not fear,

Ben thought he had beheld soine fairy, When on the deck he saw appear,

In seaman's dress, his faithful Mary. Her cheeks assum'd a crimson glow,

Yet such for love her noble daring, No prayers could keep her down below,

With Ben she'd stay all perils sharing; When cruel fate ordain'd it so,

Ere Ben had time to say how fare'ye, An envious ball conveyed the blow,

That clos'd in death the eyes of Mary.

Ben's arms receiv'd the falling fair;

Grief, rage, and love his bosom tearing, His eyes reflected wild despair,

No inore for life or safety caring; Close came the foe, Ben madly cry'd,

Ye adverse powers come on, I dare ye, Then springing from the vessel's side, Rush'd on the foe, and dy'd for Mary. 13

WIEN

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