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The leak we've found, it cannot pour fast, The lawyer and the usurer,
That sit in gowns of fur,
In closets warm, can take no harm,
When winter fierce with cold doth pierce, Since kind Heaven has sav'd our lives !
And beats with hail and snow, Come, the can, boys! let's be drinking
We are sure to endure, 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 winé. 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, io France and Spain, The dangers of the seas;
For wines beyond compare; Give ear unto the mariners,
Whilst gallants are carousing,
In taverns on a row, And they will plainly show [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 Englishmen 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. Sometines 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; 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 :
Then we'll roar on the shore,
When the stormy winds do blow.
$ 60. Soig. GOLDSMITH. Come hither, come hither, coine hither;
Here shall he see
But winter and rough weather.
Who doth ambition shun,
Seeking the food he eats, And still, as clarker grows the night,
And pleas'd with what he gets, Emits a brighter ray.
Come hither, come hither, come hither;
Here shall he see
But winter and rough weather.
$ 65. A Dirge. D'URFEY. To former.joys recurring ever,
SLEEP, sleep, poor youth! sleep, sleep in peace, And turning all the past to pain: Thou, like the world, th' oppress'd oppressing, whilst we, that pine in life's disease,
Reliev'd from love, and mortal care ;
Uncertain blest less happy are.
Couch'd in the dark and silent grave,
No ills 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 food desire,
Earthquakes that shake the universe, Softest notes will soothe her breast :
Can't rock thee inio 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.
Past is the fear of future doubt,
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 silver sutam 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 bis 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 :
(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
dread, On the table spread the cloth, Let the knives be sharp and clean :
For hallow'd the turf is which pillow'd his head, Pickles get, and salad both;
Here youth shall be fam'd for their love and
their truth, Let them each he fresh and green :
And cheerful old age feel the spirit of youth;
For the raptures of fancy here poets shall cread,
Be the swans on thy 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 his Unto the sweet bird's throat,
§ 67. Song. The Fairies. There the squire of the pad, and the knight of Come follow, follow me, 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 clains are there made, and great secrets For this place is fairy ground.
And the king, and the law, and the thief, has
But my hearers cry out, What a deuce dost
thou ail? Through key-holes we do glide; Over tables, stools, and shelves,
Put off thy reflections, and give us thy tale." We trip it with our fairy elves.
Derry down, &c.
'Twas there then, in civil respect to harsh laws,
and for want of false witness to back a bad With platter, dish, or bowl,
A Norman, though late, was obliged to appear; Then we pinch their arms and thighs ;
And who to assist but a grave Cordelier!
Derry down, &c.
The squire whose good grace was to open the
scene, We praise the household inaid,
Seem'd not in great haste that the show should Apd duly she is paid :
begin ; Every night before we go,
alow fitted the halter, now travers d the cart, We drop a tester in her shoe.
And often took leave, but was loth to depart.
Derry down, &c.
What frightens you thus, my good son ? says
You murder’d, are sorry, and have been con
fess'd. Pearly drops of dew we drink, In acorn cups fillid to the brink.
O father! my sorrow will scarce save my bacon;
For 'twas not that I murder'd, but thiat I was The brains of nightingales,
taken. With unctuous fat of snails,
Derry down, &c.
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,
chest, 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 what will folks
if they see 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 betier, believe me, to-
Derry down, &c.
To-morrow? our hero replied in a fright; Where we the night before have been.
He that's hang'd before noon ought to think
sup. $ 68. Song. The Thief and Cordelier. Prior.
Derry dowo, &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
must suit :
The feast I propos'd to you, I cannot taste ;
See these mournful spectres sweeping
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, blade;
Who were once my sailors bold ; For thy cord and my cord both equally tie;
Lo! each hangs his drooping forehead,
While his dismal tale is told.
I, by twenty sail attended,
Nothing then its wealth defended,
orders not to fight.
O! that in this rolling ocean $ 69. Song. Admiral Hosier's Ghost. I had cast them with disdain ;
Glover. And obey'd my heart's warm motion
on the taking of Porto Bello fiom the Spaniards For resistance I could fear none,
Had our foul dishonor seen,
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. Thus like thee, proud Spain dismaying, active on that station until he became the jest 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 beiter 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,
Thy successful arms we hail;
But remember our sad story,
And let Hosier's wrongs prevail. Our triumphant navy rode ;
Sent in this foul clime to languish,
Think what thousands fell in vain,
Wasted with disease and anguish,
Not in glorious battle slain.
Hence, with all my train attending
From their oozy tombs below,
Through the hoary foam ascending,
Here, the Bastimentos viewing,
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,
You neglect my just request :
After this proud foe subduing,
When your patriot friends you see,
Think on vengeance for my ruin,
And for England-sham'd in me.
$ 70. Song. Captain Death, You, who now have purchas'd glory
The muse and the hero together are fir'd, At this place where I was lost :
The same noble views have their bosoms inThough in Porto-Bello's ruin
* Written, as it is said, by one of his surviin. You will mix your joys with tears.
Now they cry,
As freedom they love, and for glory contend, All hands aloft, aloft, let English valor shine,
And you'll see
To meet the gallant Russel in combat on And sure braver fellows to sea never went:
the deep; Each man was deterinin'd to spend his last breath He led a noble train of heroes bold, In fighting for Britain and brave captain Death. To sink 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 ihe good prize-ship was lost in her The bloody figlit's begun, the sea itself on tire: 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
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, Their regulated bands stood trembling near,
shore; and felt; A sight that the heart of Bellona would melt!
To see the lofty streamers now no more. The shrouds were all torn, and the decks filld At six o'clock the Red the smiling victors led, with blood,
To give a second blow, the fatal overthrow; And scores of dead bodies were thrown in the
Now death and horror equal reign;
Run or die,
British colors ride the vanquish'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 bis 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: Thus fell the strong Terrible bravely and bold; Enough, thou mighty god of war! But sixteen survivers the tale can unfold ! The French were the victors, though much to
Bless the king, their cost,
Let us drink to every English tar.
$72. Song. Pegsyt. GARRICK.
Once more I'll tune the vocal shell, I ne'er saw the fellow of brave captain Death." | To hills and dales my passion tell,
A Aame which time can never quell, $71. Song. The Sea Fight in xouit. 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, Toan 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 22d of May, 1692, in favor of the English and Dutch combined fleets, consisting of 99 sail of the line, under the command of Adeniral 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 monarch retired in a fit of despondency, to mourn his misfortunes, and recover his peace of mind, amid the solitary gloom of La Trappe.
This song was written in compliment to Mrs. Woffington.
Now we sing,