What of perils that, always the same, are so various, And though shot-holes and leaks leave wide open Death's doors? Devil a risk's in a battle, were't not so precarious; Storms were all gig and fun, but for breakers and shores: In short, a tar's life-you may say that I told itWho leaves quiet and peace, foreign countries to roam, Is, of all other lives, I'll be bound to uphold it, LIFE'S A TROUBLED SEA. HIS life is like a troubled sea, All seamanship in vain we try, We cannot keep her steadily; But, just as Fortune's wind may blow, The vessel's tosticated to and fro: Yet, come but love on board, Our hearts with pleasure stored No storm can overwhelm: Still blows in vain The hurricane, While love is at the helm. THE CANARY BIRD. INCE fate of sailors hourly varies, Lest doubts should wound my anxious This pretty bird, from the Canaries, Indulge despair; But sweetly, if they thrill with gladness, Hark! hark! Rejoice, and know your lover lives." Each hour, while my poor bosom flutters, I listen to my pretty bird: But, thanks to Heaven! never with sadness His sprightly notes with joy and gladness; Hark! hark! 'Tis thus I know my lover lives. But see, he's here! my heart's contented- Birds always sing with joy and gladness; Hark! hark! Thy love to thee and honour lives." THE FORECASTLE-MAN. OUR finikin sirs may in finery appear, On the deck, spruce as tailors, may And live at the stern, without minding the head. Where'er they take their trip, Whether rising on mountains, or sinking below, The forecastle mans the ship. Your delicate fresh-water masters may treat THE SAPLING. N either eye a lingering tear, His love and duty well to prove, Jack left his wife and children dear, Impell'd by honour and by love; And as he loiter'd, wrapp'd in care, A sapling in his hand he bore, Curiously carved, in letters fair"Love me! ah, love me evermore!" At leisure to behold his worth, Tokens, and rings, and broken gold, He plunged the sapling firm in earth, And o'er and o'er his treasure told; The letters spelt, the kindness traced, And all affection's precious store, Each with the favourite motto graced― "Love me! ah, love me evermore!" While on this anxious task employ'd, The boatswain's whistle cleaves the air: 'Tis duty calls; his nerves are braced; He rushes to the crowded shore, Leaving the sapling, in his haste, That bids him love for evermore. The magic branch thus unreclaim'd, His thoughtless haste he loudly blamed, Yet why act this unmanly part? Escaped from treacherous waves and winds, While gazing on the spell-like charms His children cling about his knees. Amazement seized the admiring crowd ;My children!" cried a village seer, 66 "These signs, though mute, declare aloud Can still the tempest, level seas, M |