red the Straits of Gibraltar ght she'd have sunk,

egan so for to alter,

st as tho' she was drunk.

e the mainsail to shivers,

her, the hoarse boatswain cries; sail athwart, see she quivers, he rough tempest she flies. -e born for all weathers, et it blow, high or low, s us to our tethers, The gale drives we must go.

e on thicker and faster, t as pitch was the sky, doleful disaster

Door sailors and I.

Sam Shroud, and Dick Handsail,

hat came furious and hard,
were furling the mainsail,
soul swept from the yard.
re born for all weathers,
et it blow, high or low,
■s us to our tethers,
the gale drives we must go.

n, and Dick cried peccavi,

the risk of my neck,

nk down in peace to old Davy,

pe, and so landed on deck.

uld you have? We were stranded,

a fine jolly crew

lred that sail'd, never landed I think, twenty-two.

O'er the wild waters labouring far from home,

For some bleak pittance e'er compelled to roam :

Few hearts to cheer him through his dangerous life,
And none to aid him in the stormy strife:
Companion of the sea and silent air,
The lonely fisher thus must ever fare:

Without the comfort, hope,-with scarce a friend,
He looks through life and only sees its end!

B. Cornwall

My hands and

And let my head With handker

There, take my

And tie it tigh

XLIV

THE SAILOR

Thou that hast a daughter
For one to woo and wed,

Give her to a husband

With snow upon his head :

Oh, give her to an old man,

Though little joy it be,
Before the best young sailor

That sails upon the sea!

And now to t

Most earne

That they m

In church

But on the

At the en All on the s Deep do

ess is the sailor

ck and like to die,
■ tender mother,
theart standing by.

aptain speaks to him,

Ɔ, stand up, young man, the ship to haven,

beside thee can.

t to me, ‘Stand, stand up;’ thee, take hold,

little from the deck, ds and feet are cold.

y head, I pray thee, andkerchiefs be bound:

e my love's gold handkerchief, it tightly round.

g the chart, the doleful chart ; ere these mountains meet— Is are thick around their head, sts around their feet:

nor here; 'tis deep and safe the rocky cleft;

anchor on the right,

eat one on the left.

to thee, O captain, arnestly I pray, y may never bury me rch or cloister grey; he windy sea-beach, ending of the land, e surfy sea-beach, down into the sand.

It was the schooner Hesperus,

That sail'd the wintry sea;

And the skipper had taken his little daughter,
To bear him company.

Blue were her eyes as the fairy flax,

Her cheeks like the dawn of day,

And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds,
That ope in the month of May.

The skipper he stood beside the helm,
His pipe was in his mouth,

And he watch'd how the veering flaw did blow

The smoke now west, now south.

Then up and spake an old sailor,
Had sail'd the Spanish Main,
'I pray thee put into yonder port,
For I fear the hurricane.

She shuddered and Then leaped her

e moon had a golden ring, I no moon we see !'

e blew a whiff from his pipe, ful laugh laughed he.

uder blew the wind, the north-east; hissing in the brine,

lows frothed like yeast.

he storm and smote amain

in its strength;

d and paused like a frighted steed, d her cable's length.

!come hither! my little daughter, t tremble so;

ather the roughest gale,

wind did blow.'

her warm in his seaman's coat,

e stinging blast;

De from a broken spar,

d her to the mast.

I hear the church bells ring,

at may it be?'

bell on a rock-bound coast !'

eered for the open sea.

I hear the sound of guns,

hat may it be?'

in distress that cannot live an angry sea!'