Page:Bold mariners.pdf/2



YE gentle gales, and smiling springs,

Send peace unto our Nation,

When Seamen bold can tell their tales,

And bless their happy station.

Come, come thou darling treasure come,

Hark, how the Cannons rattle!

When trumpet sounds, the Boatswain’s call

Ploclaim a dreadful battle.

There’s no relief for Seamen brave,

When wars are not yet ended;

And those who do escape the waves,

Let them be well befriended.

The Sailor goes where his duty calls,

And dreads no kind of danger;

When round him flies the Cannon-balls,

His heart ne’er fears a stranger.

When fore and aft the blood-stain’d decks,

And loudly groans the dying,

The Sailor still, with courage bold,

His en’my is destroying.

Then fighting hard with might and main,

Behold we’re sorely wounded;