The STORM:
Set to Music by Mr. Henry Purcell. To be found in his Orph. Britt.
BLow, blow Boreas, blow, and let thy surly Winds
Make the Billows foam and roar;
Thou can'st no Terror breed in valiant Minds,
But spight of thee we'll live, but spight of thee we'll live and find a Shoar.
Then cheer my Hearts, and be not aw'd,
but keep the Gun-Room cleer;
Tho' Hell's broke loose, and the Devils roar abroad,
Whilst we have Sea-room here:
Boys, never fear, never, never fear.
Hey! how she tosses up! how far,
The mounting Top-mast touch'd a Star;
The Meteors blaz'd, as thro' the Clouds we came,
And Salamander-like, we live in Flame;
But now, now we sink, now, now we go
Down to the deepest Shades below.
Alas! alas! where are we now! who, who can tell!
Sure 'tis the lowest Room of Hell,
Or where the Sea-Gods dwell:
With them we'll live, with them we'll live and reign,
With them we'll laugh, and sing, and drink amain,
With them we'll laugh, and sing, and drink amain,
But see we mount, see, see we rise again.
[Second Movement.]
Tho' flashes of Lightning, and Tempests of Rain,
Do fiercely contend which shall conquer the Main;
Tho' the Captain does swear, instead of a Pray'r,
And the Sea is all Fire by the Damons o' th' Air;
We'll drink and defie, we'll drink and defie
The mad Spirits that fly from the Deep to the Sky,
