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[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

the breeze,

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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

for me.


[Music by SIR H. R, BISHOP, OH! when the tide was out last night

In yonder bay we roved,
We gather'd shells, and on the sand

We wrote the names we loved ;
And now we wander forth to find

No friendly records there ;
The morning tide effaced the words

We wrote with so much care.

'Tis thus with all whose glory rests

Upon the sands of earth;
In vain is all the pomp of pride,

As vain the smiles of mirth;
The ceaseless tide at intervals

Will rush o'er all the scene;
'Twill pass-and not a record then

Will tell where they bave been.


[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 ?”

And cry

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


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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 !"



[Music by JOHN BRAHAM, Tell me no more that hearts less warm,

Feel not the sorrows felt by me;
Passing unmoved by sun and storm

Over a tranquil sea :
Mine be the heart which feeling sways ;

Tho' like the ocean's varied form
Tranquil and bright in sunny days,

Ruffled in hours of storm.

Dark as a stream wbose waters run

Under the earth in hidden caves,
Where the warm rays of summer's sun

Never illumed the waves ;
Such is the calm of those who rove,

Link'd to no being truly dear,
While not a cheering ray of love

Brightens their cold career.


[Music by H. RUSSELL.
The Nautilus ever loves to glide
Upon the crest of the radiant tide.
When the sky is clear and the wave is bright,
Look over the sea for a lovely sight!
You may watch, and watch for many a mile,
And never see Nautilus all the while,
Till, just as your patience is nearly lost,
Lo! there is a bark in the sunlight toss'd !
“Sail, ho ! and whither away so fast?".
What a curious thing she has rigg'd for a mast !
" Ahoy! ahoy ! don't you hear our hail ?"
How the breeze is swelling her gossamer sail !
The good ship Nautilus-yes, 'tis she !
Sailing over the gold of the placid sea ;-
And though she will never deign reply,
I could tell her bull with the glance of an eye.
Now, I wonder where Nautilus can be bound ;
Or does she always sail round and round,
With the fairy queen and her court on board,
And mariner-sprites, a glittering horde ?
Does she roam and roam till the eveuing light?
And where does she go in the deep midnight!
So crazy a vessel could hardly sail,
Or weather the blow of " a fine stiff gale."

O, the self same hand that holds the chain,
Which the ocean biods to the rocky main-
Which guards from the wreck when the tempest raves,
And the stout ship reels on the surging waves
Directs the course of thy little bark,
And in the light of the shadow dark,
And near the shore, or far at sea,
Makes safe a billowy path for thee!


We court no gale with wooing sail,
We fear no

squall a-brewing ;
Seas smooth or rough, skies fair or bluff,

Alike our course pursuing.
For what to us are winds, when thus

Our merry boat is flying,
While bold and free, with jocund glee,

Stout hearts her oars are plying ?

At twilight dun, when red the sun

Far o'er the water flashes,
With buoyant song, our bark along

Her crimson pathway dashes.
And when the night devours the light,

And shadows thicken o'er us,
The stars steal out, the skies about

To dance to our bold chorus.

Sometimes near shore we ease our oar,

While beauty's sleep invading,
To watch the beam through her casement gleam,

As she wakes to our serenading ;
Then with the tide we floating glide

To music soft, receding,
Or drain one cup, to her fill'd up

For whom those notes are pleading.

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