I oft have lov'd the brilliant glow

Of rapture in her blue eye streaming-
But can the bosom bleed with woe
While joy is in the glances beaming?

No, no! yet, love, I will not chide,
Although your heart were fond of roving,
Nor that, nor all the world beside,

Could keep your faithful boy from loving.

You'll soon be distant from his eye,

And with you all that's worth possessing;
Oh! then it will be sweet to die,
When life has lost its only blessing.

JACK'S GRATITUDE.

[CHARLES DIBDIN.]

I'VE sail'd round the world without fear or dismay; I've seen the wind foul, and I've seen the wind fair; I've been wounded, and shipwreck'd, and trick'd of my pay;

But a brave British sailor should never despair.

When in a French prison I chanc'd for to lie,

With no light from the heavens, and scarce any air, In a dungeon instead of in battle to die,

Was dismal I own, but I did not despair.

But, Lord! this is nothing-my poor upper works
Got shatter'd, and I was oblig'd to repair;

I've been shot by the French, and a slave 'mongst the
Turks;

But a brave British sailor should never despair.

But for all these misfortunes, I'd yet cut a dash, Laid snug up my timbers, and never known care, If the agent had not run away with the cash,

And so many brave fellows plung'd into despair.

So coming long-side of our bold royal tar,

I told him the rights on't,-for why should I care? Of my wrongs and my hardships, and wounds in the

wars,

And if how he would right me I should not despair.

Says his Highness, says he, "Such ill treatment as thine

Is a shame, and henceforward thy fortune's my care:" So now blessings on him sing out me and mine; And thus British seamen should never despair.

So straightway he got it made into a law,

That each tar of his rhino should have his full share ; And so agents, d'ye see, may coil up their slack jaw, For the Duke is our friend, and we need not despair.

Then push round the grog: though we face the whole world,

Let our royal tar's pennant but fly in the air, And the sails of our navy again be unfurl'd,

We'll strike wond'ring nations with awe and despair.

THE SWEET LITTLE ANGEL.

WHEN Jack parted from me to plough the salt deep,
Alas! I mayn't see him again,

In spite of all talking I could not but weep,
To help it I'm sure was in vain ;

Then he broke from my arms, and bid me farewell,
Saying, Poll, come, my soul, it wont do :

So, d'ye hear, avast whining, and sobbing, my girl, "Tis all foolish nonsense in you.

I could not help thinking that Jack was in right,
From a something that whisper'd, d'ye see,
There's a sweet little angel that sits out of sight,
Will restore my poor Jack unto me.

While he's at a distance each thought is employ'd,
And nought can delight me on shore;
I fancy at times that the ship is destroy'd,
And Jack I shall never see more.

But then 'tis but fancy; that angel above,
Who can do such wonders of things,
I know will ne'er suffer a harm to my love,
And so to myself I thus sings :-

What matters repining, my heart shall be light,
For a something that whispers, d'ye see,
There's a sweet little angel that sits out of sight,
Will restore my poor Jack unto me.

But should that sweet angel, wherever he be,
Forget to look out for poor Jack ;
Why then he may never return unto me,
O, never! no, never! come back;

But oh! it can't be, he's too good and too kind,
To make the salt water his grave;

And why should I then each tale-teller mind,
Or dread ev'ry turbulent wave?

Besides, I will never kind Providence slight;
For something still whispers, d'ye see,
There's a sweet little angel that sits out of sight,
Will restore my poor Jack unto me.

MOORINGS.

[CHARLES DIBDIN.]

"I'VE heard," cried out one, "that you tars tack and tack,

And at sea what strange hardships befall you; But I don't know what's moorings.' -"What! Don't you?" said Jack;

"Man your ear-tackle then, and I'll tell you :Suppose you'd a daughter quite beautiful grown, And, in spite of her pray'rs and implorings,

Some scoundrel abus'd her, and you knock'd him down, Why, d'ye see, he'd be safe at his moorings.

"In life's voyage should you trust a false friend with the helm,

The top-lifts of his heart all a-kimbo,

A tempest of treach'ry your bark will o'erwhelm,
And your moorings will soon be in limbo:
But if his heart's timbers rear up against pelf,
And he's just in his reck'nings and scorings,
He'll for you keep a look-out the same as himself,
And you'll find in his friendship safe moorings.

"If wedlock's your port, and your mate true and kind,
In all weathers will stick to her duty,
A calm of contentment shall beam in your mind,
Safe moor'd in the haven of beauty:

But if some frisky skiff, crank at every joint,
That listens to vows and adorings,

Shape your course how you will, still you'll make
Cuckold's Point,

To lay up like a beacon at moorings.

"A glutton's safe moor'd, head and stern, by the gout; A drunkard's safe moor'd under the table;

In straws, drowning men will hope's anchor find out;
While a hair's a philosopher's cable:

Thus mankind are a ship, life a boisterous main,
Of fate's billows where all hear the roarings,
Where for one calm of pleasure we've ten storms of pain,
Till death brings us all to our moorings.”

FOR HER SAILOR BRAVES THE
DEEP.

[REYNOLDS.]

SAYS Ella to her love, "Remember,

Tho' doom'd to part, you constant view
That moon which rises in such splendour-
I, too, will look and think of you;

Anxious Ella shall not sleep
Whilst her sailor braves the deep."

But most tempestuous is the weather,
And lovely Ella's wish is cross'd;
Vain her watching nights together—
Successive moons in clouds are lost,
Stormy winds the forests sweep
Whilst her sailor braves the deep.

Swift to the shore she flies complaining,
The tempest to her pray'r is deaf;
When, lo! that orb she's so arraigning,
Shines forth and shows her lover safe.
Now no more shall Ella weep

For her sailor braves the deep.

ON BOARD OUR TRIM VESSEL. WHEN on board our trim vessel we joyously sail'd, And the glass circl'd round with full glee, King and country to give my old shipmate ne'er fail'd, And the toast was soon toss'd off by me. Billows might dash, Lightning might flash,

'Twas the same to us both when at sea.

If a too powerful foe in our track did but pass,
We resolv'd both to live and die free,

Quick we number'd our guns, and for each took a glass,
Then a broadside we gave her with three.

Cannons might roar,

Echo'd from shore,

'Twas the same to us both when at sea.

But a cannon ball one day in a fight,

From the deck knock'd him into the sea,
So he died as he lived for his country and right,
And may this be the end too of me.

Cannons let roar,

Echo'd from shore,

For the grave of a sailor's the sea.