THE BOLD MARINERS.
YE gentle gales, and smiling springs,
Send peace unto our Nation,
When Seamen bold can tell their tales,
And bless their happy station.
Come, come thou darling treasure come,
Hark, how the Cannons rattle!
When trumpet sounds, the Boatswain’s call
Ploclaim a dreadful battle.
There’s no relief for Seamen brave,
When wars are not yet ended;
And those who do escape the waves,
Let them be well befriended.
The Sailor goes where his duty calls,
And dreads no kind of danger;
When round him flies the Cannon-balls,
His heart ne’er fears a stranger.
When fore and aft the blood-stain’d decks,
And loudly groans the dying,
The Sailor still, with courage bold,
His en’my is destroying.
Then fighting hard with might and main,
Behold we’re sorely wounded;
But still we scorn for to complain
When by our foes surrounded.
And if in prison by chance we fall,
With loyal hearts most vigour,
We’ll cut down our en’mies one and all;
King George our King for ever!
The Sun at last, like crimson red,
Towards the West retiring,
Where lies a heap of Seamen dead,
And hundreds more expiring!
Next morn’ the fight was renew’d again,
Each Seaman bold at his station,
And boldly fought each British Tar,
For the honour of his Nation.
Now since it is the Seamen’s fate,
When peace shall bless our Nation,
For to crave assistance on the street,
Give them kind invitation.
Esteem them as your dearest friends,
Let them be a’ welcome strangers;
You cannot make too much of them,
For all their toil and dangers.
O now relieve the Seaman brave,
Be mindful of his merit;
And when again you’re plung’d in war,
He’ll show his daring spirit.