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Toll for the brave !

Brave Kempenfelt is gone! His last sea-fight is fought,

His work of glory done.

It was not in the battle,

No tempest gave the shock, She sprang no fatal leak,

She ran against no rock.

His sword was in its sheath,

His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down,

With twice four hundred men !

Weigh the vessel up,

Once dreaded by our foes, And mingle with the cup

The tear which England owes.

Her timbers yet are sound,

And she may float again, Charged with England's thunder,

Across the distant main.

But Kempenfelt is gone,

His victories are o’er,
And he and his eight hundred

Shall plough the wave no more. DEEP IN THE ORLOP'S DARKSOME

SHADE.
By a Midshipman. Naval Chronicle,"

Vol. V, 1801. mamEEP in the Orlop's darksome shade,

Unknown to Sol's bright ray,

| Where no kind chink's assistant aid SACS Admits the cheerful day: Th’advent'rous Muse would fain explore

The mysteries of light,
Would fain attempt the distant shore,

And spread her wings for flight.
Do thou Maria, lovely fair,

Accept the tender lay;
To lines unartful lend an ear

Sent far from Biscay's Bay.
Where, spite of winter's dreaded wave,

Inured to naval toil,
Behold the gallant sailors brave

The foes of Britain's isle.
Proud Gallia now disputes no more

The empire of the main,
But trembling sees all round her shore

Triumphant Britain reign.
On Britons then, ye fair ones, smile,

Who plough for you the brine,
And in return for every toil

Be thou, Maria, mine.

Each night a fair delusion charms

The brow of anxious care,
I grasp thy phantom in my arms,

And sigh to find it air.
Thy soft idea calms my soul

When angry billows rise,
While through the air black tempests howl,

And lightning rends the skies.
When discord loud through all the decks

In wild confusion reigns,
And ruin from a thousand leaks

Each moment footing gains.
The massy guns at ev'ry heel

Their strongest breechings rend,
And from the top-mast to the keel

The mighty timbers bend.
In that dread hour of bitter care

Let guilt his heart resign,
For mine, dear girl, what cause of fear,

So close allied to thine ?

SONG. Naval Chronicle," Vol. IX, 1803. JUMF a landsman would know the true creed

of a tar, Tell him this, just his wish to belay: A sailor believes, foul or fair, peace or war,

'Tis all for the best come what may.

His heart at humanity's post never nods,

Honest sympathy beams in his eye; In battle successfui; if not, where's the odds ?

He won't run, but with glory he'll die.

His home and relations he seems to forego,

But his country new joys can impart;
For a true honest tar, don't all of us know,

Finds a home in each Englishman's heart.

Britannia's his mother, his brethren are we,

And besides, 'tis with rapture I sing, That each gallant lad, who for us braves the sea,

Finds a father beloved in his king.

W

DUKE WILLIAM'S RAMBLE.
Naval Chronicle," Vol. XII, 1804.

UKE WILLIAM and a nobleman,
E Heroes of England's nation,

Got up one morn by dawn of day,

To take a recreation.
Into the suburbs they did go,
In sailor's dress from top to toe;
“ Now,” says the duke, “we soon shall know

What usage there's for seamen.”

Then in this brave and warlike trim

They hastened to an inn.
The duke then said, “ Kind landlady,

Bring wine both red and white in.”

Before they'd drank the wine balf out
A press-gang that was brave and stout
Did search the lower rooms about

For warlike jolly seamen.

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“ We do belong to George," says Will;

Say they, “Where's your protection ?“We've none at all,” the duke replies,

“Don't cast on us reflection.” Then the lieutenant he did say, “Come, brothers, come, come, come away, On us you must not make a prey,

My warrant is for seamen."

They hauld them to the tender, where

The captain he was skipping;
The duke he said, “ Kind gentlemen,

Take care of all your shipping;'
With that the captain he did swear,
I am your shepherd, I declare,
I'll make you change your saucy air;
Get down among the seamen.

Oh then his highness did go down

Among the jolly seamen,

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