Charming young Nancy/Tom Bowling the Sailor

Tom Bowling the Sailor.

Here, a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling,
⁠The darling of our crew;
Nor no more he'll hear the tempest howling,
⁠For death has brought him to.
His form was of the manliest beauty,
⁠His heart was kind and soft;
Faithful below be did his duty,
⁠And now he’s gone aloft.

Tom never from his worth departed,
⁠His virtues were so rare:
His friends were many, and true-hearted,
⁠His Poll was kind and fair;
And then he'd sing so blythe and jolly;
⁠Ah, many’s the time and oft!
But mirth is turn’d to melancholy,
⁠For Tom is gone aloft.

Yet shall poor Tom find pleasant weather,
⁠When He who all commands,
Shall give, to call life’s crew together,
⁠To word to pipe all hands,
Thus death, who Kings and tars dispatches,
⁠In vain Tom’s Life has deff'd ;
For, tho’ his body’s under hatches,

⁠His soul is gone aloft.

F I N I S