Imagens das páginas
PDF

The leak we've found, it cannot pour fast, The lawyer and the usurer,
We're lighten'd her a foot or more ;

I That sit in gowns of fur,
Up, and rig a jury foremast,

In closets warm, can take no harm,
She rights, she rights, boys, we're offshore! | Abroad they need not stir;
Now once more on joys we're thinking,

When winter' fierce with cold doth pierce, Since kind Heaven has sav'd our lives !

And beats with hail and snow,

We are sure to endure,
Come, the can, boys ! let's be drinking
To our sweethearts and our wives;

When the stormy winds do blow.
Fill it up, about ship wheel it,

We bring home costly merchandise, Close to our lips a brimmer join :

And jewels of great price,
Where's the tempest now, who feels it? To serve our English gallantry,
None—the danger's drown'd in wine.

With many a rare device;
| To please our English gallantry,

Our pains we freely show,

For we toil and we moil, $59. Song. Neptune's raging Fury; or the gallant Seaman's Sufferings.

When the stormy winds do blow. You gentlemen of England

We sometimes sail to th' Indies, That live at home at ease,

To fetch home spices rare; Ah, little do you think upon

Sometimes again, to France and Spain, The dangers of the seas;

For wines beyond compare; Give ear unto the mariners,

Whilst gallants are carousing, And they will plainly show

In taverns on a row, [All] the cares, and the fears,

Then we sweep o'er the deep, When the stormy winds do blow.

When the stormy winds do blow. All you that will be seamen,

When tempests are blown over, Must bear a valiant heart,

And greatest fears are past, For when you come upon the seas

In weather fair, and temp'rate air, You must not think to start;

We straight lie down to rest; Nor once to be faint-hearted,

But when the billows tumble, In hail, rain, blow, or snow,

And waves do furious grow, Nor to think for to shrink

Then we rouse, up we rouse, When the stormy winds do blow.

When the stormy winds do blow. The bitter storms and tempests

If enemies oppose us, Poor seamen do endure,

When England is at war Both day and night, with many a fright,

With any foreign nations, We seldom rest secure;

We fear not wound nor scar; Our sleep it is disturbed

Our roaring guns shall teach 'em With visions strange to know,

Our valor for to know, And with dreams on the streams,

Whilst they reel, in the keel, When the stormy winds do blow.

When the stormy winds do blow. In claps of roaring thunder,

We are no cowardly shrinkers, Which darkness doth enforce,

But true English men bred, We often find our ship to stray

We'll ply our parts, like valiant hearts, Beyond her wonted course :

And never fly for dread; Which causeth great distractions,

We'll play our business nimbly And sinks our hearts full low;

Whene'er we come or go, "Tis in vain to complain,

With our mates, to the Straits, When the stormy winds do blow.

When the stormy winds do blow. Sometimes in Neptune's bosom

Then courage, all brave mariners, Our ship is tost in waves,

And never be dismay'd, And ev'ry man expecting

Whilst we have bold adventurers The sea to be their graves !

We ne'er shall want a trade; Then op aloft she mounteth,

Our merchants will employ us, And down again so low,

To fetch them wealth, I know; "Tis with waves, () with waves,

Then be bold, work for gold, When the stormy winds do blow.

When the stormy winds do blow. Then down again we fall to pray'r,

When we return in safety, With all our might and thought,

With wages for our pains, When refuge all doth fail us,

The tapster and the vintner 'Tis that must bear us out;

Will help to share our gains :
To God we call for succour,

We call for liquor roundly,
For he it is, we know,

And pay before we go :
That must aid us, and save us,

Then we'll roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow.

When the stormy winds do blow.

$ 60. Sorg. GOLDSMITH. Come hither, come hither, come hither; The wreich conderun'd with life to part

Here shall he see Still, still on liope relies;

No enemy, And ev'ry pang that rends the heart,

But winter and rough weather. Bids expectation rise.

Who doth ambitiou shun, Hope, like the glimmering taper's light, And loves to lie i'th' sun, Adorns and checrs the way;

Seeking the food he eats, And still, as darker grow's the nighi,

And pleas'd with what he gets, Emits a brighter ray.

Come hither, come hither, come hither;

Here shall he see

No enemy,
$ 61. Song. Goldsmith. But winter and rough weather.
O MEMORY! thou fond deceiver,
Still importunate and vain, :

. $ 65. A Dirge. D'Urfer.
To former joys recurring ever,
And turning all the past to pain :

SLEEP, sleep, poor youth! sleep, sleep in peace, Thou, like the world, th' oppressid oppressing,

Reliev'd from love, and mortal care; Thy smiles increase the wretch's woe!

Whilst we, that pine in life's disease, And he who wants each other blessing,

Uncertain blest less happy are. In thee must ever find a foe.

Couch'd in the dark and silent grave,

Noills of fate thou now canst fear;

In vain would tyrant power enslave, $ 62. Song.

Or scornful beauty be severe. GENTLY touch the warbling lyre,

Wars that do fatal storms disperse, Chloe seems inclin'd to rest;

Far from thy happy mansion keep: Fill her soul with fond desire,

Earthquakes that shake the universe, Softest notes will soothe her breast :

Can't rock thee into sounder sleep. Pleasing dreams assist in love:

With all the charms of peace possest, Let them all propitious prove.

Secure from life's tormentor, pain, On the mossy bank she lies

Sleep, and indulge thyself with rest, (Nature's verdant velvet bed),

Nor dream thou ere shalt rise again. Beauteous flowers meet her eyes,

CHORUS Forming pillows for her head;

Past is the fear of future doubt, Zephyrs waft their odours round,

The sun is from the dial gone, And indulging whispers sound.

The sands are sunk, the glass is out,

The folly of the farce is done ! $ 63. The same parodied. Gently stir and blow the fire,

$ 66. Song. GARRICK. Lay the mutton down to roast,

Thou soft flowing Avon, by thy silversutam Dress it quickly, I desire,

Of things more than mortal sweet Shakspeare In the dripping put a toast,

would dream, That I hunger may remove;

The fairies by moon-light dance round his green Mutton is the meat I love.

bed, On the dresser see it lie,

For hallow'd the turf is which pillow'd his O! the charming white and red !

head. Finer meat ne'er met my eye.

The love-stricken maiden, the soft-sighing On the sweetest grass it fed :

swain,

pain: Let the jack go swiftly round,

Here rove without danger, and sigh without Let me have it nicely brown'd.

The sweet bud of beauty no blight shall here On the table spread the cloth,

dread, Let the knives be sharp and clean :

For hallow'd the turf is which pillow'd his head. Pickies get, and salad both;

| Here youth shall be fam'd for their love and Let them each be fresh and green :

their truth,

And cheerful old age feel the spirit of youth; With small beer, good ale, and wine,

For the raptures of fancy here poets shall tread, Oye Gods! how I shall dine !

For hallow'd the turf is that pillow'd his head.
Flow on, silver Avon, in song ever fow!

Be the swans on ihy borders still whiter than $ 64. Song. SHAKSPEARE.

snow! UNDER the green-wood tree,

Ever full be thy stream, like his fame may it Who loves to lie with me,

spread! And tune his merry note

And the turf ever hallow'd which pillow'd bis Unto the sweet bird's throat,

head.

$67. Song. The Fairies. There the squire of the pad, and the knight of Come follow, follow me,

the post, Ye fairy elves that be,

Find their pains no more balk'd, and their Light tripping o'er the green;

hopes no more cross'd. Come follow Mab, your queen:

Derry down, &c. Hand in hand we'll dance around,

Great claims are there made, and great secrets For this place is fairy ground.

are known; When mortals are at rest,

And the king, and the law, and the thief, has

his own; And snoring in their nest; Unheard and unespied,

Bul my hearers cry out, What a deuce dost Through key-holes we do glide;

thou ail? Over tables, stools, and shelves,

Put off thy reflections, and give us thy tale." We trip it with our fairy elves.

Derry down, &c. And if the house be foul

'Twas there then, in civil respect to harsh laws, With platter, dish, or bowl,

And for want of false witness to back a bad

cause, Up stairs we nimbly creep, And find the sluts asleep;

A Norman, though late, was obliged to appear; Then we pinch their arms and thighs ;

And who to assist but a grave Cordelier! None us hears, and none us spies.

Derry down, &c. But if the house be swept,

The squire whose good grace was to open the And from uncleanness kept,

scene, We praise the household maid,

Seem'd not in great haste that the show should

begin ; And duly she is paid :

Hlow fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart, Every night before we go, We drop a tester in her shoe.

And ofien took leave, but was loth to depart.

Derry down, &c. Then o'er a mushroom's head

What frightens you thus, my good son ? says Our table-cloth we spread; A grain of rye or wheat,

the priest; The diet that we eat;

You murder'd, are sorry, and have been con

foss'd. Pearly drops of dew we drink,

O father! my sorrow will scaree sare my bacon; In acorn cups fill'd to the brink.

For 'twas not that I murder'd, but that I was The brains of nightingales,

taken. With unctuous fat of snails,

Derry down, &c.
Between two cockles stew'd,
Is meat that's easily chew'd;

Pooh! pry'thee, ne'er trouble thy head with

such fancies; Tails of worms, and marrow of mice, Do make a dish that's wondrous nice!

Rely on the aid you shall have from St. Francis:

If the money you promised be brought to the The grasshopper, gnat, and fly, Serve for our ministrelsy;

You have only to die; let the church do the rest. Grace said, we dance a while,

Derry down, &c. And so the time beguile :

And what will folks say if they see you afraid? And if the moon doth hide her head,

It reflects upon me, as I knew not my trade: The glow-worm lights us home to bed.

Courage, friend! to-day is your period of sorrow: O'er tops of dewy grass

And things will go better, believe me, toSo nimbly we do pass,

morrow. The young and tender stalk

Derry down, &c. Ne'er bends where we do walk;

To-morrow? our hero replied in a fright; Yet in the morning may be seen

He that's hang'd before noon ought to think Where we the night before have been.

of to-night. Tell your beads, says the priest, and be fairly

truss'd up; $68. Song. The Thief and Cordelier. Prior. For you surely to-night shall in Paradise sup.

Derry down, &c. Who has e'er been at Paris must needs know Alas! quoth the squire, howe'er sumptuous the Grève,

the treat, The fatal retreat of th' unfortunate brave; Parbleu! I shall have little stomach to eat: Where honor and justice most oddly contribute I should therefore esteem it great favor and grace, To ease heroes' pains by a halter and gibbet. Would you be so kind as to go in my place.

Derry down, down, hey derry down. Derry down, &c. There death breaks the shackles which force That I would, quoth the father, and thank you had put on, :

to boot; And the hangman completes what the judge But our actions, you know, with our duty had begun :

must suit:

chest,

blade;

The feast I propos'd to you, I cannot taste; See these mournful spectres sweeping
For this night, byour order, is mark'd for a fast. Ghastly o'er this bated wave,
Derry down, &c.

Whose wan cheeks are staind with weeping: Then turning about to the hangman, he said :

These were English captains brave. Dispatch me, I pray thee, this troublesome

| Mark those numbers, pale and horrid,

Who were once my sailors bold; For thy cord and my cord both equally tie;

Lo! each hangs his drooping forehead, And we live by the gold for which other men

While his dismal tale is told.
die.

I, by twenty sail attended,
Derry down, down, hey derry down. Did the Spanish town affright;

Nothing then its wealth defended,

But my orders not to fight.

O! that in this rolling ocean 8 69. Song. Admiral Hosier's Ghost. I had cast them with disdain ;

Glover. | And obey'd my heart's warm motion It was written by the ivgenious author of Leonidas, To have quell'd the pride of Spain ! on the taking of Porto-Bello fiom the Spaniards

For resistance I could fear none, by Admiral Vernon, Nov. 22, 1739.- The case of Hosier, which is here so paihetically repre

But with twenty ships had done sented, was briefly this: In April, 1726, that What thou, brave and happy Vernon, commander was sent with a strong fleet to the Hast achiev'd with six alone. West Indies, to block up the galleons in the ports | Then the Bastimentos never of that country; or, should they presume to come

| out, to seize and carry them to England: he ac

Had our foul dishonor seen, cordingly arrived at the Pastimentos, near | Nor the sea the sad receiver Porto-Bello, but being restricted by his orders of this gallant train had been. from obeying the dictates of his courage, lay in my active on that station until he became the jest | Thus like thee, proud Spain dismaying, of the Spaniards; he afterwards removed to Car. And her galleons leading home, thagena, and continued cruising in these seas | Though, condemn'd for disobeying, till the far greater part of his men perished de- ! I had met a traitor's doom: plorably by the diseases of that unhealthy cli- | To have fallen, my country crying. mate.- This brave man, seeing his best officers and men thus daily swept away, his ships ex

“ He has play'd an English part," posed to inevitable destruction, and himself | Had been better far than dying made the sport of the enemy, is said to have Of a griev'd and broken heart. died of a broken heart.

Unrepining at thy glory, As near Porto-Bello lying

Thy successful arms we hail; On the gently-swelling flood,

But remember our sad story, At midnight with streamers flying,

And let Hosier's wrongs prevail. Our triumphant navy rode;

Sent in this foul clime to languish, There, while Vernon sate all-glorious

Think what thousands fell in vain, From the Spaniards' late defeat,

Wasted with disease and anguish, And his crews, with shouts victorious,

Not in glorious battle slain. Drank success to England's fleet;

Hence, with all my train attending On a sudden, shrilly sounding,

From their oozy tombs below, Hideous yells and shrieks were heard :

| Through the hoary foam ascending, Then, each heart with fear confounding,

Here I feel my constant woe: A sad troop of ghosts appear'd;

Here, the Bastimentos viewing, All in dreary hammocks shrouded,

We recall our shameful doom, Which for winding-sheets they wore, And, our plaintive cries renewing, And, with looks by sorrow clouded,

Wander through the midnight gloom. Frowning on that hostile shore.

O'er the waves, for ever mourning, On them gleam'd the moon's wan lustre;

Shall we roam depriv'd of rest, When the shade of Hosier brave

If, to Britain's shores returning, His pale bands were seen to muster,

You neglect my just request : Rising from their wat’ry grave:

After this proud foe subduing, O'er the glimmering wave he hied him,

When your patriot friends you see, Where the Burford rear d her sail,

Think on vengeance for my ruin,
With three thousand ghosts beside him,

And for England-sham'd in me.
And in groans did Vernon hail.
Heed, O heed, our fatal story!
I am Hosier's injur'd ghost;

$70. Song. Captain Death You, who now have purchas'd glory

The muse and the hero together are ford, At this place where I was lost :

The same noble views have their bosoms Though in Porto-Bello's ruin

spird; You now triumph free from fears; When you think of my undoing,

* Written, as it is said, by one of his surviving You will mix your joys with tears.

crew.

As freedom they love, and for glory contend, | All hands aloft, aloft, let English valor shine,
The muse o'er the hero still mourns as a friend: Let fly a culverin, the signal for the line;
And here let the muse her poor tribute bequeath Let every hand supply his gun;
To one British hero-'tis brave captain Death!

Follow me,
His ship was the Terrible-dreadful to see !

And you'll see
His crew was as brave and as gallant as he; That the balle will be soon begun.
Two bundred or more was their good comple-1 Tourville on the main triumphant' roll'd,
ment,

To meet the gallant Russel in combat on And sure braver fellows to sea never went:

the deep; Each man was determind to spend his last breath He led a noble train of heroes bold. In fighting for Britain and brave captain Death.

To sipk the English admiral and his fleet. A prize they had taken diminish'd their force,

Now every valiant mind to victory doth aspire, And soon the good prize-ship was lost in her | The bloody fight's begun, the sea itself on fire: course :

And mighty Fate stood looking on; The French privateer* and the Terrible inet:

Whilst a flood, The battle begun-all with horror beset!

All of blood, No heart was dismay'd, each as bold as Mac-1

Fill'd the scuppers of the Royal Sun! beth; They fought for old England, and brave cap

Sulphur, smoke, and fire, disturbing the air, tain Death.

With thunder and wonder affright the Gallic Fire, thunder, balls, bullets, were seen, heard,

shore; and felt;

Their regulated bands stood trembling near, A sight that the heart of Bellona would melt!

To see the lofty streainers now no more. The shrouds were all torn, and the decks filla

At six o'clock the Red the smiling victors led, with blood,

[flood :

To give a second blow, the fatal overthrow; And scores of dead bodies were thrown in the

Now death and horror equal reign; The flood, from the days of old Noah and Seth,

Now they cry, Never saw such a man as our bravecaptain Death.

Run or die, At last the dread bullet came wing'd with his

British colors ride the vavquish'd main! fate,

[mate ; See, they fly amaz'd o'er rocks and sands! (fate; Our brave captain dropp'd, and soon after his One danger they grasp at to shun the greater Each officer fell, and a carnage was seen, In vain they cry for aid to weeping lands; That soon dyed the waves to a crimson from The nymphs and sea-gods mourn their lost green :

[wreath,

estate! And Neptune rose up, and he took off his | For evermore adieu, thou Royal dazzling Sun, And gave it a Triton to crown captain Death. From thy untimely end thy master's fate begun : Thas fell the strong Terrible bravely and bold; Enough, thou mighty god of war! But sixteen survivers the tale can unfold!

Now we sing, The French were the victors, though much to

Bless the king, their cost,

slost. Let us drink to every English tar. For many brave French were with Englishmen And thus says old Time, “From good queen

$72. Song. Peggyt. GARRICK. Elizabeth,

Once more I'll tune the vocal shell, Ine'er saw the fellow of brave captain Death." To bills and dales my passion tell,

A Aame which time can never quell, $71. Sung. The Sea Fight in xcut.

That burns for thee, my Peggy : THURSDAY in the morn, the ides of May, Yet greater bards the lyre should hit;

Recorded for ever the famous ninety-two, For pray what subject is more fit, Brave Russel did discern, by dawn of day, | Than to record the sparkling wit

The lofty sails of France advancing now; And bloom of lovely Peggy?

• Called the Vengeance.

+ The great naval victory, intended to be celebrated by this excellent old song, was determined, after a running action of several days, off Cape La Hogue, on the coast of Normandy, the 228 of May, 1692, in favor of the English and Dutch combined fleets, consisting of 99 sail of the line, under the command of Admiral Russel, afterwards Earl of Orford, over a French squadron of about half that number, commanded by the Chevalier Tourville, whose ship Le Soleil Royal carried upwards of a hundred guns, and was esteemed the finest vessel in Europe. This last fleet was fited out for the purpose of restoring King James the Second to his dominions; and that prince, together with the Duke of Berwick, and several great officers both of his own court and of the court of France, and even Tourville himself, beheld the final destruction of the French ships from an eminence on the shore. It is now certain that Russel had engaged to favor the scheme of his old master's restoration, on condition that the French took care to avoid him; but Tourville's impetuosity and rashness rendered the whole measure abortive: and the distressed and ill-fated mnonarch retired in a fit of despondency, to mourn his misfortunes, and recover his peace of mind, amid the solitary gloom of La Trappe.

1 This song was written in compliment to Mrs. Woffington.

« AnteriorContinuar »