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THE MATIN CALL. G. LINLEY.]
[Music by G. LINLEY. Ah! is it not the matin bell, dear mother, that I hear! Yes, hark, it sweetly sounds again, now louder and
more clear. Ope wide the window, for I love each soft and soothing
tone, It minds me of a joyous time, alas ! for ever gone. Draw back the curtain, let me see the green and waving
trees, My heart will be revived to share the sunshine and
I heard the sound of rustling leaves, and wild birds
gaily sing; I feel the breath of op’ning flow’rs a fragrance round
me fling : But I must part from all I love, this pain will soon be
past. Ob, kneel beside me, mother dear, and let me look my
last! When next you hear the matin bell, this heart at peace
will be ; Then listen to its solemn chime, and breathe a pray'r
OH! WIEN THE TIDE WAS OUT. T. HAYNES BAYLY.]
[Music by SIR H. R, BISHOP, OH! when the tide was out last night
In yonder bay we roved,
We wrote the names we loved ;
No friendly records there ;
We wrote with so much care.
'Tis thus with all whose glory rests
Upon the sands of earth;
As vain the smiles of mirth;
Will rush o'er all the scene;
Will tell where they bave been.
OUR SAILORS AND OUR SHIPS.
[ELIZA Cook.] How dashingly in sun and light the frigate makes her
way; Her white sails spreading full and bright beneath the
gleaming ray! The gale may wake, but she will take whatever wind
may come; Fit car to bear the ocean god upon his crystal home. She cleaves the tide with might and pride, like war
horse freed from rein ; She treats the wave like abject slave-the empress of
the main ; All, all shall mark the gallant bark, their hearts upon their lips;
“Old England, who shall match thy sailors and thy ships ?”
Stout forms, strong arms, and dauntless spirits dwell
upon the deck; True to their cause in calm or storm, in battle or in
wreck. No foe will meet a coward hand, faint heart or quailing
eye : They only know to fall or stand, to live the brave or
The flag that carries round the world a Nelson's victor
name Must never shield a dastard knave or strike in craven
shame. Let triumph scan her blazing page, no record shall
eclipse The glory of old England's Cross, her sailors and her
The tempest breath eeps o'er the sea with howlings
of despair, Death walks upon the waters, but the tar must face
and bear : The bullets hiss, the broadside pours, 'mid sulphur,
blood, and smoke, And prove a British crew and craft alike are hearts of
oak. Oh! ye who live 'mid fruit and flowers--the peaceful,
safe, and freeYield up a prayer for those who dare the perils of the "God and our Right !” those are the words e'er first
upon our lips ; But next shall be, “Old England's flag, our sailors
and our ships !"
TELL ME NO MORE. T. HAYNES BAYLY.]
[Music by JOHN BRAHAM, Tell me no more that hearts less warm,
Feel not the sorrows felt by me;
Over a tranquil sea :
Tho' like the ocean's varied form
Ruffled in hours of storm.
Dark as a stream wbose waters run
Under the earth in hidden caves,
Never illumed the waves ;
Link'd to no being truly dear,
Brightens their cold career.
[Music by H. RUSSELL.
O, the self same hand that holds the chain,
[C. F. HOFFMAN.]
squall a-brewing ;
Alike our course pursuing.
Our merry boat is flying,
Stout hearts her oars are plying ?
At twilight dun, when red the sun
Far o'er the water flashes,
Her crimson pathway dashes.
And shadows thicken o'er us,
To dance to our bold chorus.
Sometimes near shore we ease our oar,
While beauty's sleep invading,
As she wakes to our serenading ;
To music soft, receding,
For whom those notes are pleading.