Oh, Erin, my country! though sad and forsaken,
In dreams I re-visit thy sea-beaten shore,
But, alas! in a far distant land I awaken,

And sigh for the friends I shall never see more. And thou, cruel fate, wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace, where no peril can chase me,Ah, never again shall my brothers embrace me,They died to defend me, or live to deplore.

Where now is my cabin-door, so fast by the wild

wood?

Sisters and sire all weep for its fall,

Where is the mother that look'd on my childhood?
And where is the bosom-friend dearer than all?
Ah, my sad soul! long abandoned by pleasure,
Why did it doat on a fast-fading treasure?—
Tears, like the rain, may fall without measure,
But raptures and beauty they cannot recall.

But yet, all its fond recollections suppressing,
One dying wish my fond bosom shall draw.
Erin, an exile bequeaths thee his blessing,-
Land of my forefathers, Erin go bragh!
Buried and cold, when my heart stills its motion,
Green be thy fields, sweetest isle of the ocean,
And thy harp-striking bards sing aloud with devotion,
Erin ma vourneen, sweet Erin go bragh!

HERE'S A HEALTH.

HERE'S a health to all good lasses,
Pledge it merrily, fill your glasses,
Let the bumper toast go round.
May they live a life of pleasure,
Without mixture, without measure
For with them true joys are found.

THE POST CAPTAIN.

WHEN Steerwell heard me first impart
Our brave commander's story,
With ardent zeal, his youthful heart
Swell'd high for naval glory;
Resolv'd to gain a valiant name,
For bold adventures eager,

When first a little cabin-boy on board the Fame,
He would hold on the jigger.

While ten jolly tars with musical Joe,

Hove the anchor a-peek, singing yeo, heave, yeo, yeo,

&c.

The hand top-ga'ntsails next he learn'd,
With quickness, care, and spirit,
Whose generous master soon discern'd,
And priz'd his dawning merit :
He taught him soon to reef and steer,
When storms convuls'd the ocean,
Where shoals made skilful vet'rans fear;

Which mark'd him for promotion.

And none to the pilot e'er answer'd like he,

When he gave the command, hard a-port helm a-lee,

Luff, boy, luff, keep her near,

Clear the buoy, make the pier,

None to the pilot e'er answered like he,

When he gave the command in the pool, or at sea,

Hard a-port, helm a-lee.

For valour, skill, and worth renown'd;

The foe he oft defeated;

And now with fame and fortune crown'd,
Post Captain he is rated:

Who, should our injur'd country bleed,
Still bravely would defend her:

Now blest with peace, if beauty plead,

He'll prove his heart is tender.

Unaw'd, yet mild, to high and low,
To poor and wealthy, friend or foe,
Wounded tars share his wealth,

All the fleet drink his health.

Priz'd be such hearts, for aloft they will go,
Which always are ready compassion to show,
To a brave conquer'd foe.

BOUND 'PRENTICE TO A WATERMAN.

BOUND 'prentice to a waterman, I learn'd a bit to row, But, bless your heart, I always was so gay,

That to treat a little water-nymph, that took my heart

in tow,

I ran myself a bit in debt, and then I ran away.

Singing ri fol, &c.

Board of man of war I enter'd next, and learn'd to quaff good flip,

And far from home we scudded on so gay,

I ran my rigs, but lik'd so well my captain, crew, and ship,

That run what will, why, dam-me, if ever I run

away.

Singing ri fol, &c.

With Nelson I've sail'd the world around, and learn'd a bit to fight,

But somehow a prisoner I was ta'en.

So, when my Spanish jailor to my dungeon show's a light,

I just blinded both his peepers, and I run away again.

Singing ri fol, &c.

I've run many risks in life, on ocean and on shore,
But always like a Briton got the day;

And fighting in old England's cause, I'll run as many

more,

But let me meet ten thousand foes, will never run

away.

Singing ri fol, &c.

FAIREST OF THE FAIR.

O NANNIE, wilt thou gang wi' me,
Nor sigh to leave the flaunting town;
Can silent glens have charms for thee,
The lowly cot, and russet gown?
Nae langer drest in silken sheen,

Nae langer deck'd wi' jewels rare,
Say, canst thou quit each courtly scene,
Where thou wast fairest of the fair!

O Nannie, when thou'rt far awa,
Wilt thou not cast a look behind?
Say canst thou face the flaky snaw,
Nor shrink before the warping wind?
O can that saft and gentlest mien,
Severest hardships learn to bear,
Nor sad regret each courtly scene,
Where thou was fairest of the fair!

O Nannie, canst thou love so true,
Thro' perils keen wi' me to gae ?
Or when thy swain mishap shall rue,
To share with him the pang of wae?
And when invading pains befal,

Wilt thou assume the nurse's care,
Nor wishful those gay scenes recall,
Where thou wast fairest of the fair?

And when at last thy love shall die,

Wilt thou receive his parting breath?
Wilt thou repress each struggling sigh,
And cheer with smiles the bed of death?
And wilt thou o'er his much lov'd clay,
Strew flowers, and drop the tender tear?
Nor then regret those scenes so gay,
Where thou was fairest of the fair?

THE DEATH OF NELSON.

O'ER Nelson's tomb, with silent grief oppress'd, Britannia mourn'd her hero, now at rest,

But those bright laurels ne'er shall fade with years, Whose leaves are water'd by a nation's tears.

"Twas in Trafalgar's bay,

We saw the Frenchmen lay,

Each heart was bounding then ;

We scorn'd the foreign yoke,
Our ships were British oak,

And hearts of oak our men.

Our Nelson mark'd them on the wave,
Three cheers our gallant seamen gave,
Nor thought of home or beauty;
Along the line this signal ran,
England expects that every man
This day will do his duty."

66

And now the cannons roar
Along the affrighted shore

Our Nelson led the way,
His ship the Vict'ry nam'd,
Long be that vie'try fam'd!

For vic'try crown'd the day.
But dearly was that conquest bought,
Too well the gallant hero fought,