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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,
Shall plough the wave no more. DEEP IN THE ORLOP'S DARKSOME
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,
And spread her wings for flight.
Accept the tender lay;
Sent far from Biscay's Bay.
Inured to naval toil,
The foes of Britain's isle.
The empire of the main,
Triumphant Britain reign.
Who plough for you the brine,
Be thou, Maria, mine.
Each night a fair delusion charms
The brow of anxious care,
And sigh to find it air.
When angry billows rise,
And lightning rends the skies.
In wild confusion reigns,
Each moment footing gains.
Their strongest breechings rend,
The mighty timbers bend.
Let guilt his heart resign,
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;
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.
DUKE WILLIAM'S RAMBLE.
UKE WILLIAM and a nobleman,
Got up one morn by dawn of day,
To take a recreation.
What usage there's for seamen.”
Then in this brave and warlike trim
They hastened to an inn.
Bring wine both red and white in.”
Before they'd drank the wine balf out
For warlike jolly seamen.
“ 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;
Take care of all your shipping;'
Oh then his highness did go down
Among the jolly seamen,