7
A shot twixt wind and water.
Which won this fair maids heart
TOM BOWLING.
Here a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling,
the darling of our crew.
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 he did his duty,
but now he's gone aloft,
Tom never from his word 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 blithe and jolly,
ah! many’s thr time and oft,
But mirth is turned to melancholy,
for Tom is gone aloft.
Yet shall poor Tom find pleasent weather
when HE who all commands
Shall give to call life’s crew together,
the word to pipe all hands
Thus death, who king and tars dispatches,
in vain Tom's life had doff'd;
For tho his body's under hatches,
his soul is gone aloft.
