Her rigging's tight for every tack, How gallantly she bears her port, Adorns her glorious head; But may she anchor long in peace, B BEN BLOCK. THOMAS DIBDIN. JEN BLOCK was a vet'ran of naval renown, For the Board still neglected his merits As no int'rest he held with my lord. Yet as brave as old Benbow was sturdy old Ben, And he'd laugh at the cannon's loud roar, When the death-dealing broadside made worm'smeat of men, And the scuppers were streaming with gore. Nor could a lieutenant's poor stipend provoke For his biscuit he'd break, turn his quid, crack his joke, X Thus, year after year, in a subaltern state, Poor Ben for his king fought and bled, Till time had unroof'd all the thatch from his pate, And the hair from his temples had fled. When on humbly saluting, with sinciput bare, Quoth his lordship, "Lieutenant, you've lost all your hair, Since I last had a peep at your sconce." "Why, my lord," replied Ben, "it with truth may be said, While a bald pate I long have stood under, There have so many captains walk'd over my head, That to see me quite scalp'd 'twere no wonder." THE POST-CAPTAIN. Music by SHIELD. HEN Steerwell heard me first impart Resolved to gain a valiant name, For bold adventures eager, When first a little cabin-boy, on board the Fame, He would hold on the jigger, While ten jolly tars, with musical Joe, Heave the anchor a-peak, singing, Yo, heave ho! To hand top-gallant sail next he learn'd Whose gen'rous master then discern'd Luff, boys, luff, keep her near, None to the pilot e'er answer'd like he, For valour, skill, and worth renown'd, And now, with fame and fortune crown'd, Who, should our injured country bleed, All the fleet drink his health, TO MY MESSMATES AT SEA. CROSS. RAVE Oakum, Mainbrace, honest Jack, Who'd the compass box, knew every tack, The glasses jingled, mirth went round, And while carousing on dry ground, Sall Spriggins, who was there, d'ye mind, Said, while with tears her eyes were blind, "Dear Jack," said she, "my heart will break When you are far from me." "Lord, Sall," says I, "a noggin take To our messmates out at sea. وو A thousand other toasts we gave, 66 May a Briton never be a slave! I could see plainest when blind drunk, Love of our isle my heart commands, Where native freedom pipes all hands, Yet while at anchor here I'll drink THE SAILOR'S ADIEU. ISTRESS me with those tears no more; One kiss, my girl, and then adieu ! The last boat destined for the shore Waits, dearest girl, alone for you. Soon, soon, before the light winds borne, Shall I be sever'd from your sight; You left the lonely hours to mourn, And weep through many a stormy night. While far along the restless deep, In trim array the ship shall steer, As to the pole the needle flies, And farthest off still varies least. While round the bowl the jovial crew |