Some folks may envy foreign parts, The song, the toast, &c. THE LASS THAT LOVES A SAILOR. THE moon on the ocean was dimm'd by a ripple, The gay jolly tars pass'd the word for a tipple, He lov'd as his life, Each drank, and wish'd he could hail her; That pleased the most, And the lass that loves a sailor. Some drink the king, some his brave ships, Some, may the French, and all such rips, That fate might bless Some Poll or Bess, And that they soon might hail her; But the standing toast, &c. Some drank the prince, and some our land, This glorious land of freedom; Some, that our tars may never want That she who's in distress may find But the standing toast, &c. WILL WATCH, THE BOLD SMUGGLER. "TWAS one morn when the wind from the northward blew keenly, While sullenly roared the big waves of the main, A famed smuggler, Will Watch, kissed his Sue, then serenely Took helm, and to sea boldly steered out again. Will had promised his Sue that this trip, if well ended, Should coil up his hopes, and he'd anchor on shore; When his pockets were lined, why his life should be mended, The laws he had broken, he'd never break more His sea-boat was trim, made her port, took her lading, Then Will stood for home, reached her offing, and cried, This night, if I've luck, furls the sails of my trading, Will lay-to till the night came on darksome and dreary, The Philistines are out, cries Will, well, take no heed on't, Attack'd, who's the man that will flinch from his gun; Should my head be blown off, I shall ne'er feel the need on't, We'll fight while we can, when we can't, boys, we'll run. Through the haze of the night, a bright flash now appearing, Oh! ho! cries Will Watch, the Philistines bear down, Bear-a-hand, my tight lads, e'er we think about sheering, One broadside pour in, should we swim, boys, or drown. But should I be pop'd off, you, my mates, left behind me, Regard my last words, see 'em kindly obeyed, Let no stone mark the spot, and, my friends, do you mind me, Near the beach is the grave where Will Watch would be laid. Poor Will's yarn was spun out-for a bullet next min ute Laid him low on the deck, and he never spoke more; His bold crew fought the brig while a shot remained in it, Then sheered-and Will's hulk to his Susan they bore. 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 with, He'd the tears of his Susan, the prayers of each friend. Near his grave dash'd the billows, the wind loudly bellows, Yon ash struck with lightning points out the cold bed Where Will Watch, the bold smuggler, that famed lawless fellow, Once feared, now forgot, sleeps in peace with the dead. THE SMUGGLER'S BRIDE. (A Sequel to the celebrated Song of "Will Watch.) 'Twas the girl that Will Watch, the bold smuggler, loved dearly, Heaved a sigh, and turned pale, when she heard of his death; For ne'er was affection returned more sincerely, Than that by his Susan, while Susan had breath. Brave Will prized her merits far more than her beauty, Though Susan was lovely as lovely could be! But merit with Will was a jewel and duty, To love, and to fight for, at home or at sea. 'Twas her hand tied his handkerchief, when they last parted; 'Twas her bosom press'd his as they stood on the beach; 'Twas his lips that kiss'd off the fond tear-drop that started, And did for his Susan each blessing beseech! Will swore nought in life their attachment could sever, His heart was his Susan's by land or by sea; Yet, should it so happen we now part forever, Then wed some good fellow and love him for me! He spoke fled, and fought, aye, and died like a man too, For Will was soon cut off, at Destiny's call; Yet the boast of his crew is (and truly they can, too,) She heard it, and frenzy her wits seemed to borrow, more. In the grave, with the lad that she both lived and died for, Were laid the remains of the girl he loved dear; And while to his memory his mates heave a sigh for, Each lover will give to his Susan's a tear. Not a flint marks the spot where their bones lie enshrouded, Yet the earth is held sacred and dear by the crew; And often, right oft, by the moonbeams, unclouded, Is a tear dropped for Will, and his Susan so true. TOM STARBOARD. TOм Starboard was a lover true, Tom did and never yet had fail'd. Had sav'd his life, and fate was kind; With love-his heart was heart of oak! His strength restor'd, Tom nimbly ran |