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“And now to thee, O captain,

Most earnestly I pray,
That they may never bury me

In church or cloister grey;
But on the windy sea-beach,

At the ending of the land,
All on the surfy sea-beach,

Deep down into the sand.
“For there will come the sailors,

Their voices I shall hear,
And at casting of the anchor

The 'yo-ho" loud and clear ;
And at hauling of the anchor

The 'yo-ho' and the cheer, -
Farewell, my love, for to thy bay
I never more may steer.'

W. Allingham.



A WET sheet and a flowing sea,

A wind that follows fast,
And fills the white and rustling sail,

And bends the gallant mast;-
And bends the gallant mast, my boys,

While like the eagle free,
Away the good ship flies, and leaves

Old England on the lee.
Oh, for a soft and gentle wind !”

I heard a fair one cry;
But give to me the snoring breeze

And white waves heaving high ;-
And white waves heaving high, my lads,

The good ship tight and free;
The world of waters is our home,

And merry men are we.
There's tempest in

horned moon,*
And lightning in yon cloud;
But hark the music, mariners !

The wind is piping loud ;-
* There's tempest, &c., i.e, the horned moon forebodes a storm.


The wind is piping loud, my boys,

The lightning flashes free ;
While the hollow oak our palace is,
Our heritage* the sea.

A. Cunningham.




It was the schooner Hesperus,

That sail'd the wintry sea ;
And the skipper had taken his little daughter,

To bear him company.
Blue her

eyes as the fairy flax,
Her cheeks like the dawn of day,
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds,

That in the month of May.
The skipper he stood beside the helm,

His pipe was in his mouth,
And he watch'd how the veering flaw did blow

The smoke now west, now south.

up and spake an old sailor, Had saild the Spanish Main : “I

pray thee put into yonder port, For Í fear the hurricane.

"Last night the moon had a golden ring,

And to-night no moon we see !"
The skipper he blew a whiff from his pipe,

And a scornful laugh laugh'd he.
Colder and colder blew the wind,

A gale from the north-east;
The snow fell hissing in the brine,

And the billows froth'd like yeast.
Down came the storm and smote amain

The vessel in its strength ; She shudder'd and paused like a frighted steed, Then leap'd her cable's length.

* Heritage, what we own, or inherit.

O say,

“Come hither! come hither! my little daughter,

And do not tremble so,
For I can weather the roughest gale,

That ever wind did blow."
He wrapp'd her warm in his seaman's coat,

Against the stinging blast;
He cut a rope from a broken spar,

And bound her to the mast.
“O father! I hear the church bells ring,

it be?” “'Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!”

And he steer'd for the open sea. O father! I hear the sound of


it be?”
“Some ship in distress that cannot live

In such an angry sea !”
“O father! I see a gleaming light,

O say, what may it be?”
But the father answer'd never a word

A frozen corpse was he.
Lash'd to the helm, all stiff and stark,'

With his face turn’d to the skies,
The lantern gleam'd through the gleaming snow

On his fix'd and glassy eyes.
Then the maiden clasp'd her hands and pray'd

That saved she might be;
And she thought of Christ who stilld the waves

On the Lake of Galilee. And fast through the midnight dark and drear,

Through the whistling sleet and snow, Like a sheeted ghost the vessel swept

T'wards the reef of Norman's Woe.
And ever the fitful gusts between

A sound came from the land;
It was the sound of the trampling surf

On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.
The breakers were right beneath her bows,

She drifted a dreary wreck,
And a whooping billow swept the crew

Like icicles from her deck.

She struck where the white and fleecy waves

Look'd soft as carded wool,
But the cruel rocks they gored her sides

Like the horns of an angry bull.
Her rattling shrouds all sheath'd in ice,

With the masts went by the board;
Like a vessel of glass she stove and sank,

Ho! ho! the breakers roar’d.
At daybreak on the bleak sea-beach,

A fisherman stood aghast,
To see the form of a maiden fair

Lash'd close to a drifting mast.
The salt sea was frozen on her breast,

The salt tears in her eyes ;
And he saw her hair like the brown sea-weed,

On the billows fall and rise.
Such was the wreck of the Hesperus,

In the midnight, and the snow;
Heav'n save us all from a death like this,
On the reef of Norman's Woe!


THE SOWER'S SONG. Now hands to seedsheet, boys,

We step and we cast; old Time’s on wing,
And would ye partake of Harvest's joys,
The corn must be sown in spring.
Fall gently and still, good corn,

Lie warm in thy earthly bed;
And stand so yellow some morn,

For beast and man must be fed.
Old Earth is a pleasure to see,

In sunshiny cloak of red and green;
The furrow lies fresh ; this year will be,
As years that are past have been.
Fall gently and still, good corn,

Lie warm in thy earthly bed;
And stand so yellow some morn,

For beast and man must be fed.

Old Mother, receive this corn,

The son of six thousand sires ;
All these on thy kindly breast were born,
One more thy poor "child requires.
Fall gently and still, good corn,

Lie warm in thy earthly bed;
And stand so yellow some morn,

For beast and man must be fed.
Now steady and sure again,

And measure of stroke and step we keep; Thus


and thus down, we cast our grain :
Sow well, and you gladly reap.
Fall gently and still

, good corn,
Lie warm in thy earthly bed;
And stand so yellow some morn,
For beast and man must be fed.


While my

LULLABY. SWEET and low, sweet and low,

Wind of the western sea;
Low, low, breathe and blow,

Wind of the western sea !
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;

little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,

Father will coine to thee soon; Rest, rest, on mother's breast,

Father will come to thee soon : Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west, Under the silver moon ; Sleep, my little one, sleep; my pretty one, sleep.


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