Page:New minstrel.pdf/9

 Through the wild surf they cleave there way,

Lost in the foam, nor know dismay-

For they go the crew to save,

For they go the crew to save,

Lost in the foam, nor know dismay—

For they go the crew to save.

But O, what raptures fill each breast

Of the hopeless crew of the ship distress'd;

When landed safe, what joys to tell

Of all the dangers that befell?—

Then is heard no more,

By the watch on the shore,

Then is heard no more, by the watch on the shore,

The minute gun at sea. 



O, leave the gay and festive scenes,

The halls of dazzling light,

And rove with me through forests green

Beneath the silent night.

There as we watch the ling'ring rays,

That shine from every star,

I'll sing the song of happier days,

And strike the light guitar.

I'll sing, &c.

I'll tell the how the maiden wept,

When her true knight was slain,

And how her broken spirit slept,

And never woke again