Page:Sentimental songster.pdf/12

 a waefu’ gate yestreen,

A gate, I fear I’ll dearly rue;

I gat my death frae twa sweet een:

Twa lovely een o’ bonny blue.

not her golden ringlets bright

Her lips like roses wet wi’ dew,

Her heaving bosom lily white,

It was her een sae bonnie blue.

She talk’d, she smil’d, my heart she wil’d,

She charm’d my soul I watna how,

An’ aye the stound, the deadly wound,

Cam frae her een sae bonnie blue.

But spare I’ll speak, an spare I’ll speed

She’ll ablins listen to my vow;

Should she refuse, I’ll lay my head

To her twa een sae bonny blue.

When in the storm on Albion’s coast,

The night-watch guards his wary post

From thoughts of danger free,

He marks some vessel’s dusky form,

And hears amid some howling storm,

The minute gun at sea.

Swift on the shore a hardy few,

The life-boat man with a gallant crew,

And dare the dangerous wave;

Through the wild surf they cleave there way,

Lost in the foam, nor know dismay,

For they go the crew to save.

But oh what rapture fills each breast

Of the hapless crew of the ship distress'd,

Then landed safe what joy to tell,

Of all the dangers that befel,

Then heard is no more,

By the watch on the shore.

The minute gun at ssea [sic]