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I LOVE to see the flowing bowl

With ruby lustre crown'd;
I love to see the flow of soul,

And care in goblet drown'd.
Oh, tell me not of beauty's power,

Of woman's soft control,
But, give me, gods, the social hour,

The transports of the bowl.
The song, the jest, the laugh, the glee,
Compose the charms of life for me.
If wine can yield one's care relief,

Then let its current flow;
If sparkling cup can banish grief,

Then bask we in the glow.
The sand of life too soon runs out,

And joy is but a flower ;
Be gay, and push the bowl about,
Taste wine, and prove its power.

The song, the jest, &c.


A TRAVELLER stopped at a widow's gate ;
She kept an inn, and he wanted to bait,

But the landlady slighted her guest ;
For, when Nature was making an ugly race,
She certainly moulded this traveller's face,

As a sample for all the rest.
The chambermaid's sides they were ready to crack,
When she saw his queer nose, and hump on his back ;

(A hump isn't handsome no doubt ;) And, though 'tis confess'd that the prejudice goes Very strongly in favour of wearing a nose,

A nose shouldn't look like a snout.

A bag full of gold on the table he laid,
It had a wond'rous effect on the widow and maid,

And they quickly grew marvellous civil ;
The money immediately altered the case,
They were charm'd with his hump, and his snout, and

his face,
Though he still might have frightened the devil.
He paid like a prince, gave the widow a smack,
And flopp'd on his horse, at the door, like a sack ,

W the landlady touching the chink,
Cried, “Sir, should you travel this country again,
I heartily hope that the sweetest of men

Will stop at the widow's to drink."


In the night, when the watch-light beside him was

burning, The sentinel stood on the field of the dead, Yet then hope, on the wing of the midnight returning,

Came clad in the smiles of the days that were fled. And though a soldier's mind might roam

Back to the vanished battle day, He thought of his love and he thought of his home,

For the fields where we fought were afar and away! Then turning again from the strife and the slaughter,

We swept the blue waves of a far distant sea, Yet he sighed as he bent o'er the dark ocean water, For the wild wave that bore him still bore him from

thee! Then, as we cleft the green sea foam,

Or flew before the silvery spray, He thought of his love, and he thought of his home,

While his vessel was bounding afar and away!


CEASE, rude Boreas, blust'ring railer !

List, ye landsmen, all to me!
Messmates, hear a brother sailor

Sing the dangers of the sea ;
From bounding billows, first in motion,

When the distant whirlwinds rise,
To the tempest-troubled ocean,

Where the seas contend with skies ! Hark! the boatswain hoarsely bawling,

By topsail sheets, and haul-yards stand Down top-gallants quick be hauling,

Down your stay-sails, hand, boys, hand!
Now it freshens, set the braces,

The top-sail sheets now let go ;
Luff, boys, luff! don't make wry faces,

Up your top-sails nimbly clew.'
Now all you on down beds sporting

Fondly lock'd in beauty's arms; Fresh enjoyments, wanton courting,

Safe from all but love's alarms; Round us roars the tempest louder ;

Think what fears our ininds enthrall; Harder yet, it yet blows harder,

Now again the boatswain calls !
• The topsail-yards point to the wind, boys,

See all clear to reef each course ;
Let the fore-sheet go, don't mind, boys,

Though the weather should be worse.
Fore and aft the sprit-sail yard get,

Reef the mizen, see all clear, Hands up, ench preventure brace set,

Man the fore-yard, cheer, lads, cheer!'

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Now the dreadful thunder's roaring,

Peal on peal contending clash,
On our heads fierce rain falls pouring,

In our eyes blue lightnings flash.
One wide water all around us,

All above us one black sky, Different deaths at once surround us,

Hark! what means that dreadful cry! “The foremast's gone,' cries every tongue out,

O'er the lee, twelve feet 'bove deck;
A leak beneath the chest-tree's sprung out,

Call all hands to clear the wreck.
Quick the lanyards cut to pieces ;

Come my hearts be stout and bold; Plumb the well—the leak increases,

Four feet water in the hold.'

While o'er the ship wild waves are beating,

We for wives or children mourn:
Alas! from hence there's no retreating,

Alas! to them there's no return.
Still the leak is gaining on us :

Both chain-pumps are choak’d helow.-Heav'n have mercy here upon us !

For only that can save us now. O'er the lee-beam is the land, boys,

Let the guns o'erboard be thrown ;
To the pump, come ev'ry hand, boys,

See ! our mizen-mast is gone.
The leak we've found, it can't pour fast,

We've lightened her a foot or more ;
Up, and rig a jury foremast.

She rights, she rights, boys, we're off shore !' Now once more on joys we're thinking,

Since kind heav'n has sav'd our lives; Come, the can, boys ! let's be drinking

To our sweethearts and our wives.

Fill it up, about ship wheel it,

Close to our lips a brimmer join, Where's the tempest now, who feels it?

None—the danger's drown'd in wine.


If love's dream be o'er,

Friends and home adieu ;
Then, dear native shore,

A long farewell to you !
In the stranger climes

Of other lands I'll roam,
And cease to think of times

When all was peace at home.
Should love and hope be over,

Where alas! shall I fly?
A broken-hearted lover!

I have nought to do but die
Then on to the battle,
To lose 'mid war's rattle,
All the faithless dreams of love,
And try with glory peace to prove!


WHEN angry nations rush to arms,

And dare Britannia's peace molest ;
While discord sounds her dire alarms,

And fills with rage each hostile breast;
The gallant tar, at honour's call,

Springs forth to meet his country's foes,
And fix'd to conquer or to fall,

His breast with martial ardour glows,

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