Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 3.pdf/325

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2d Fish. Ha' done, ha' done! a hundred times I've heard it. My Grandam lull'd me with it on her lap Full many a night; and as my father sat, Mending his nets upon the beach, he sung it. I would I knew my prayers as well.—But hark! I hear a noise again.

Along the shore I see lights moving swiftly.

1st Fish. Some fishermen, who, later than the rest, Their crazy boat bring in; while, to the beach, With flaming brands, their wives and children run. Rare sight, indeed, to take thy fancy so!

No fish stir in our heaving net, And the sky is dark, and the night is wet; And we must ply the lusty oar, For the tide is ebbing from the shore; And sad are they whose faggots burn, So kindly stored for our return.

Our boat is small and the tempest raves, And nought is heard but the lashing waves, And the sullen roar of the angry sea, And the wild winds piping drearily; Yet sea and tempest rise in vain, We'll bless our blazing hearths again.