Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/433
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Oh! Sailor-Boy, Sailor-Boy, Peace to Thy Soul.
In slumbers of midnight the sailor-boy lay,
His hammock swang loose at the sport of the wind,
But, watch-worn and weary, his cares flew away,
And visions of happiness danced o'er his mind;
He dreamt of his home, of his dear native bowers,
And pleasures that waited on life's merry morn,
Whilst Memory stood sideways, half-covered with flowers,
And restored every rose, but secreted a thorn.
His hammock swang loose at the sport of the wind,
But, watch-worn and weary, his cares flew away,
And visions of happiness danced o'er his mind;
He dreamt of his home, of his dear native bowers,
And pleasures that waited on life's merry morn,
Whilst Memory stood sideways, half-covered with flowers,
And restored every rose, but secreted a thorn.
The jessamine clambers in flowers o'er the thatch,
And the swallow sings sweet from the nest in the wall,
All trembling, with transport he raises the latch,
And the voice of beloved ones reply to his call:
A father bends o'er him with looks of delight,
His cheek is impearled with a mother's fond tear,
And the lips of the boy in a love-kiss unite
With the lips of the maid whom his bosom holds dear.
And the swallow sings sweet from the nest in the wall,
All trembling, with transport he raises the latch,
And the voice of beloved ones reply to his call:
A father bends o'er him with looks of delight,
His cheek is impearled with a mother's fond tear,
And the lips of the boy in a love-kiss unite
With the lips of the maid whom his bosom holds dear.
Oh! sailor-boy, sailor-boy, never again
Shall peace, love, or kindred, thy wishes repay;
Unblest and unhonoured, down deep in the main,
Full many score fathom thy form shall decay,
Days, months, years, and ages, shall circle away,
And still the vast waters above thee shall roll;
Earth loosens thy body for ever and aye,
Oh! sailor-boy, sailor-boy, peace to thy soul.
Shall peace, love, or kindred, thy wishes repay;
Unblest and unhonoured, down deep in the main,
Full many score fathom thy form shall decay,
Days, months, years, and ages, shall circle away,
And still the vast waters above thee shall roll;
Earth loosens thy body for ever and aye,
Oh! sailor-boy, sailor-boy, peace to thy soul.
I'll Give the Land We Live In.
The sparkling liquor fills the glass,
And briskly round the board it goes,
We toast in turn each favourite lass,
And drink confusion to our foes:—
While each in turn, the catch, the glee,
The song, the toast, is given;
And ever, as it comes to me,
I'll give the land we live in.
And briskly round the board it goes,
We toast in turn each favourite lass,
And drink confusion to our foes:—
While each in turn, the catch, the glee,
The song, the toast, is given;
And ever, as it comes to me,
I'll give the land we live in.