Page:Beneath the willow tree.pdf/3

3

My wealth is lost, my friend is false,
my love he stole from me;
And here I lie in misery,
beneath the Willow tree.
Willow &c.

 

The Minute Gun at Sea.

When in the storm on Albion's coast,
The night-watch guards his wary post,
From thoughts of danger free;
He marks some vessel's dusky form,
And hears amid the howling storm
The minute Gun at sea.
The minute Gun at sea,
And hears amid the howling storm,
The minute Gun at sea, &c.

Swift on the shore, a hardy few
The life-boat man with a gallant gallant crew,
And dare the dangerous wave.
Thro' the wild surf they clear their way,
For they go the crew to save;
Lost in the foam, nor know dismay,
For they go the crew to save, &c.
Lost &c.

But oh what rapture fills each breast
Of the hopeless crew of the ship distress'd
(illegible text)hen landed safe, what joys to tell
Of all the dangers that befel.