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My timbers, cried I the name on't you've hit,
For the devil of an uproar it is; For they pipe and they squeak, now below now aloft;
If it wan't for their petticoat gear, With their squeaking so Mollyish, tender and soft,
One should scarcely know ma'am from mounsieur. Next at kicking and dancing they took a long spell,
All springing and bouncing so neat, And speciously one curious mad’moiselle,
Oh! she daintily handled her feet; But she hopped, and she sprawled, and spun round
so queer: "Twas you see rather oddish to me, And so I sung out, pray be decent my dear,
Consider I'm just come from sea. "Tan't an Englishman's taste, to have none of these
goes, So away to the playhouse I'll jog, Leaving all your fine Bantams and ma'am Pharisoes
For old Billy Shakspeare and Mog;
She smiled as she saw me approach;
We to Wapping set sail in a coach.
BEN CABLE. ONE night, 'twas at sea, in the midst of a storm, On board a three decker, Ben Cable was born; In his cradle the ship, (which was rock'd by the deep,) The whistling winds often lulled him to sleep. When christened, they dipp'd the boy in the salt flood, And the captain himself for his god-father stood; From infancy thus, little Ben was inured To tempests and storms, which he bravely endured.
On board from his youth, till to manhood he grew,
THE SHIP ON FIRE
Three hundred was the number of our crew,
And, sighing, bade our girls a long adieu;
That swiftly bore us o’er the billowy main,
Each thought to see his native land again. Now mark the change! 'twas midnight, and the blast
In fury drove us o'er the foaming flood, With blackest horror was the sky o'ercast,
When, lo! the cry was heard that thrilled our blood; To work, all hands! to work, she's fired below,
Secure the gun-room, or we're blown on high, Pour on yet faster, let the torrents flow,
For see the curling flames mount to the sky.
Heave o'er the boat, the gallant captain cried,
Let's save, at least, some sturdy hearts and true; The boat was hove, but danger all defied
Good captain, we'll not budge, but die with you! Then down we knelt, and prayed to heaven for grace,
Have mercy on us, since all hope is past,' Each rose and gave his fellow one embrace,
Then, plunging ʼmid the billows, sought his last.
The crash still adding to the tempest's roar,
While clinging to a plank, I gained the shore.
To tell our hopes and fears, and perils, dire, To paint a seaman's anguish, when bereft
Of friends and messmates by consuming fire.
JACK AND I SAW THEM NO MORE.
And many's the battle we've fought,
Though öft on our sweethearts we've thought.
And Poll was my comfort on shore,
No more, And Jack and I saw them no more. 'Twas long on the ocean, tossed upwards and down,
We'd been from our charmers away,
Their fondness and love to repay;
That whispered ill tidings on shore:
For malice too busy, our death-knell had rùng,
Had tried every art, but in vain;
sea, And found a cold grave in the main. Poll and Kate heard the tale, but a word never spoke,
Each fell like a lamb on the floor;
FAME AND GLORY.
To wander o'er the trackless main,
His native land might see again.
The girl he loved was fair and kind,
To fight for fame and glory.
When ev'ry danger fits around,
And foremost in the fight he's found,
For love with friendship thus combined
To fight for fame and glory.
STAND TO YOUR GUNS. STAND to your guns my hearts of oak, Let not a word on board be spoke, Victory soon will crown the joke;
Be silent, and be ready,
Be steady, boys, be steady.
A broadside, my boys!
SWEET POLL ADIEU. The gallant ship was under weigh,
When up aloft Tom Halliard went To reef fore-topsail, seeming gay,
While cruel grief his bosom rent, Think not a sniv’ling lubber he,
From stem to stern no lad more true, And helm a-weather or a-lea,
No tar was e'er so blithe as he, Till last he bade sweet Poll adieu. An enemy appears in sight,
The tars behold with gladdened eyes,