This fleet then sail'd out, and the winds they did blow, Their guns made a terrible clatter; 66 Our noble Queen Bess, 'cause she wanted to know, Quill'd her ruff and cried, "Pray, what's the matter?" Cock sure that he'll thump us, and kick us about, The Lord Mayor of London, a very wise man, Says the Queen, "Send in fifty good ships if you can.' Great Medina roars out, "Sure the devil is come, On Effingham's squadron, though all in a breast, THE SEA. BARRY CORNWALL. THE Sea, the sea, the open sea, It runneth the earth's wide regions round: Or like a cradled creature lies. I'm on the sea, I'm on the sea, I am where I would ever be, With the blue above and the blue below, And silence wheresoe'er I go. If a storm should come and awake the deep, I love, O how I love to ride On the fierce, foaming, bursting tide, The waves were white, and red the morn, I have lived since then, in calm and strife, With wealth to spend, and a power to range, THE NEGLECTED SAILOR. EDWARD RUSHTON, of Liverpool, born 1756, died 1814. I SING the British seaman's praise, It well deserves more polish'd lays, O'tis your boast and glory; When mad-brained war spreads death around But when in peace the nation's found, These bulwarks are neglected. Then O protect the hardy tar, And when again you're plung'd in war, When thickest darkness covers all, Far on the trackless ocean; When lightnings dart, when thunders roll, When o'er the bark the white topt waves, Then O protect, &c. When deep immers'd in sulph'rous smoke, He loads his gun, he cracks his joke, Tho' fore and aft the blood-stain'd deck, Or should the vessel float a wreck, The sailor knows no fear. Then O protect, &c. When long becalm'd on southern brine, Or burning on that noxious coast, No time can this eradicate, He glories in annoyance; He fearless braves the storm of fate, And bids grim death defiance. Then O protect, &c. Why should the man who knows no fear, In peace be e'er neglected; Behold him move along the pier, Pale, meagre, and dejected. Behold him begging for employ, Then view the anguish of his eye, Then O protect, &c. To them your dearest rights you owe, Protect them and preserve them. Shield them from poverty and pain, 'Tis policy to do it; Or, when war shall come again, O Britons ye may rue it. Then O protect, &c. A WET SHEET AND A FLOWING SEA. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. A WET sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast, my boys, Away the good ship flies, and leaves O, for a soft and gentle wind! I heard a fair one cry; But give to me the swelling breeze, And white waves heaving high. The white waves heaving high, my lads, The world of waters is our home, There's tempest in yon horned moon, And lightning in yon cloud; And hark, the music, mariners! The wind is wakening loud, my boys, The lightning flashes free,— The hollow oak our palace is, Our heritage the sea. PATRIOTIC AND MILITARY SONGS. NGLISH Literature possesses but two Patriotic songs which can be considered pre-eminently National, the anthems of "God save the Queen," and "Rule Britannia." Neither of these, as a poetical composition, is of the highest order of merit, and both of them owe their great popularity almost entirely to the beautiful music with which their indifferent poetry has been associated. As regards our patriotic songs in general, the English people have so long been accustomed to attribute to the naval service the chief glory and defence of the country, that the sea songs have become with the two great exceptions named, more patriotic in their character than the songs which celebrate the deeds of the military. The Battle of |