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Full text of "Garland of new songs: The bay of Biscay, o; All’s well; Poor Joe the Marine; The mid watch; The sea-boy; The sailor’s adieu"

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A 

GARLAND 

OF 

NEW SONGS. 

The Bay of Bifcay, O 

Airs Well 

Poor Joe the Marine 

The Mid Watch 

The Sea-Boy 

The Sailor's Adieu 




Printed by I Marftall^ 
In the Old Fklh- Market, NewcaftTe. 
here may alfo he haiU a large and 'mieresihig CoItcchQn 



The Bay of Bifcay^ 0. 



IF OUD roar'd the dreadful thunder^ 
JLj The rain a deluge fliowers ; 
The clouds were rent afundei'. 
By lightniDg's. vivid powers ; 
The night both drear and.darkp 
Our poor devo\ed barkj 
Till next day. 
There flie lay, 
la the Bay of Bifcayj 

Now daili'd upon the billov/, 

Our opening timbers creak; 
Each fears a watery pillow, 
Jsone liop, the dreadful leak ; 
To cling to flippery flirouds 
Ji.Lich breatbleis. feam;Ui crowds 
As {he lay, 
'.Fill the day. 
In the bay of Bifcay. O. 

At length the wlOiM for morrow 

Broke thro' the" hazy (ky j 
Abforb'd in filei:it Ibrrow,/ 

Each hcav'd a' bitter figh : 



3 

The (^iiiml wreck to yiew. 
Struck forrow to the crew, 
As flie lay, 
;Oa that day, 
In the Bay of Bifcay, O. 

Her yielding timbers fever. 

Her pitchy feams are rent ; 
When Heav'n, all bounteous ever. 
Its boundlefs mercy fent ; 
A fail in fight appears, 
We hsiiil her with three cheers j 
Now we fail, 
^ With the gale, 
Frpm- flie Bay of BiTcay, O. 

Jirs Well. 

TED by the waning moon. 
When ikies proclaim night's cheerlefs noon^ 
On tower, on fort, or tented ground, 
The fentry walks his lonely round ; 
And fliould a footftep haply ftray. 
Where caution mar)cs the guarded way. 
Who goes there ? ftranger, quickly tell ? 
A friend ! the word ? Good-nic^ht, AlFs 
well! 



4 



Or failing on the midnight deep, 
While weary meffmates foundly fteep, 
The careful watch patrols the deck. 
To guard the fliip from foes or wreck : i 
And while his thoughts oft homeward ileer. 
Some friendly voice falutes his ear, 
What cheer ? brother, quickly tell ? 
Above^ Below. Good-night. All's welL 

Poor Joe the Marine. 




OOR Joe the marine was at Portfmouth 
well known. 



No lad in the corps dreft fo fmart ; 
The laffes ne'er look'd on the youth with a 
frown, 

His manlinefs won every heart. 
Sweet Polly of Portfea he took for his bride, 

And furely there never was fecjn 
A couple fo gay march to church fide by fide, 

As Polly and Joe the marine. y|| 

' w 

The bright torch of Hymen was fcarccly in 
blaze. 

When thundering drums they heard rattle. 
And Joe in an inliant was forced to the feas. 
To give a bold enemy battle. 



ihe action was dreadft^l, the Ihip a mere 
wreck, . 
Such flaughter fure never was feen, 
I'wo hundred brave fellows laid ftrew'd on 
the deck. 

And among them poor Joe the marine* 

5ut victory, faithful to true Britifli tars^ 

At length put an end to the fight, 
^nd homeward they fteer^d, full of glory 
and fears, 

?ind foon had fam'd Portsmouth in fight. 
Hie ramparts were crowded the heroes to 
greet, 

And foremofl: fweet Polly was feen ; 
rhe very firfl failor appeared in her fight, 
Told the fate of poor Joe the marine. 

rhe fliock was ferene, fwift as lightning's 

fork'd dart. 
Her poor head with wild frenzy fir^d, 
>he fle\\^ from the crowd, foftly cry^d, My 

poor heart ! 
Illafp'd her hands, faintly figh'd, & expired, 
ler body was laid 'neath a wide fpreading 

yew. 

And on a fmooth ftone may be feen, 
3ne tear drop let fall, all ye lovers fo true. 
On Polly of Portfea and Joe the Marine. 



7he MidWaJch. 

*¥^"^THEN 'tis night, and the mid watchj 
is come,^ - [ i 

And chilUno; mifts Kaa?:^ o'er t:he darken'dJ 
'mam, ' ' l 

Then MIors think of their far diftant homej 
And of thofe friends they ne'er may {q^ 

But when the fight's he;> an, 
Each'ierving at his gun, 
Should any thought of them come xfer 
your mind^ 
Think, only fhouid the day be won. 
How ^twill cheer 
Their hearts to hear 
That their old couipanion he was one. 

Or, my lad, if you a miftrefs kind 

Have left on fliore — fome pretty girl ancj 
true. 

Who many a night doth liften to the windj 
And lighs to think how it may fare witi' 
you; 

O when the figbt- s begun, . 
And ferving at your gun. 
Should any thought of her conje o'er youi 
mind, || 



Thinkj (Miiy'lfh<^uld thi& yay won, 
ij How 'twill cheer 
Her heart to hear 
I That her own true failor 'he was t>jnre« 

The' Sea- Boy* 

TO England^s towers of oak farewell, 
No more for me ffiall be unfurrd 
The canvas in the gale to fwell, 

The bcean is nd'more fay world ; 
i'^et there life's earlieft years I fearlefs pafs'd^ 
A. fea-boy on the high and giddy maft» 

There, oft to chear tli.e midnight hour^ 
The helmfman, with a f&cy free. 

His ditty to the waves would pour, 
Of love on Ihbre, or ftorms at fea ; 

And how tlic lea-boy, nudft the rattling 
blafi,; . ^ ^ , \ ^ 

Keeps ftation on the high and bending mad. 

Dear VvTre the founds, tlio' rude and hoarfe, 
Of Helm a-lee ! or Helm a- weather I 

To bring the vtflt^l to her courf?. 

And Ideep the fails well fili'd together ; 

While bn the :foe>K out far my eyesv/ere caft, 

A fea-boy on the high aixi giddy maft. 



The Sailor^ s Adieu. 

THE topfails (hiver in the wind> 
The fliip (he cafts to fea ; 
But yet my foul, my heart, my mind. 

Are, Mary, moored with thee: 
For though thy foilor's bound afar, 
Still love "^ftiall be his leading ftar. 
Should landmen flatter when we're faird, 

O doubt their artful tales ; 
No gallant failor ever fail'd, 

If I.ove breath' d conftant gales. 
Thou art the compafs of my foul, 
Which fleers my heart from pole to pole. 

Sirens in every port we meet, 
More fell than rocks or waves ; 

But fuch as grace the Britiih fleet 
Are lovers arid not flaves. 

No foes our courage fliall fubdue, 

Altho' we've left our hearts with you. 

Thefe are our cares ; but if you're kind. 
We'll fcorn the dafliing niain^ 

The rocks, the biilov s, and the wind. 
The power of France and Spain. 

Now Britain's glory refts : witl> yQ\i, 

Our fails are full—fweet girls, adieu !. 
FINIS. 



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