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University of Virginia Library

Sea Songs

By W. C. Bennett

Bennett, W. C. (1820-1895)

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WITH A ONE, TWO, THREE.

WHAT LUBBERS THEY'RE ON SHORE.

IT'S IN US, THAT'S ALL.

GIVE HER A GALE AND SHE'LL GO.

STRIKE AND STRIKE HARD.

MY HEART IS NORTH WITH YOU.

THERE'S NOTHING LIKE A SMOKE.

FROM CAPE HORN.

THE SAILOR'S DREAM.

ARE WE CHANGED FROM WHAT WE WERE?

TAKE ME, LASS, FOR LIFE.

SO I GO, MY LADS, FOR PLUCK.

A KISS TO TAKE TO SEA.

LOVE PEACE, BUT FOR WAR BE READY.

THE LETTER EDGED WITH BLACK.

FROM THE SOUTH SEAS.

OUR FINE OLD COMMODORE.

READY—ALWAYS READY.

THE APPARITION.

WALKING THE WATCH.

SIR EDWARD PELLEW AT PLYMOUTH.

A WHALER'S SONG.

IT'S ABSENCE MAKES US FONDEST.

THE LAND, BOYS, THE LAND.

TO THE MARQUESAS ISLANDS.

WERE I THAT GULL.

WHEN FIRST I WENT A WHALING.

THE OLD STUFF IS HERE IN US STILL.

'TIS TRUE THAT OUR LOT IS BUT ROUGH.

SAYS NANCY TO ME WHEN I PARTED.

OH, I CARE NOT FOR THE NORTH WIND.

THEIR HEARTS ARE WITH US, BOYS.

WE WOULD NOT THINK OF YOU IN TEARS.

TIGHT AND SAUCY.

HOW WE SAVED THEM.

MARRYAT IN “THE IMPÉRIEUSE.”

TO THE NORTH SEA.

THE DEAR ONES WE'VE LEFT AT HOME.

YOU LANDSMEN MAY HAVE PLENTY.

SHE'S SWEETER TO ME THAN THE BEST OF THEM ALL.

HE'S ALL RIGHT IN WHOSE POCKET THERE'S ALWAYS SOME CHINK.

WHY DON'T THEY COME TO SEA?

MAY ALL GO WITH THE TIDE.

TO THE PACIFIC.

HERE'S TO VAN TROMP AND DE RUYTER

THE TOGS, THEY DO NOT MAKE THE SAILOR.

THE MOON DROVE THROUGH THE SCUD ON HIGH.

NAY, NEVER CRY, LASS.

O WINDS, TELL ME WHERE DOES MY SAILOR SAIL THE SEA.

THAT'S OUR WAY.

THAT'S OUR WAY.

THE WIFE'S WATCH.

THE WINDS, INCONSTANT EVER.

THE BURSTING OF THE BOOM.

A SONG FROM THE SEA-PORTS.

MY OLD FISHING-BOAT.

'TIS THE FREE THAT RULE THE SEA.

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33

FROM THE SOUTH SEAS.

Your eyes are bright, my lasses,
My home-birds fond and fair,
But eyes I've seen down South, girls,
And bright as yours were there;
And I'm looking down, down South now,
To the gleaming tropic calms,
And eyes I see
Beam bright on me
Beneath far-distant palms;
Oh! the girls of Nukuheva,
Though fair and fond you be,
The girls of Nukuheva,
They'll still be dreams to me.

34

Oh, sweeping in from whaling
Through many a weary day,
How sweet it was to hug the land
In Nukuheva Bay;
How sweet to crunch the coral strand
Beneath deck-weary feet,
And eyes to see
Gleam bright on me,
Young eyes so wild and sweet;
Oh! the girls of Nukuheva,
Though fond and dear you be,
The girls of Nukuheva,
They'll still be dreams to me.

The breeze off land is blowing;
Farewell brown maids ashore;
Our ship is homeward going;
The South I'll see no more;
Yet, in thought, I'm looking South still
To the shining tropic calms,
And gleaming eyes
Give soft replies
Beneath those far-off palms.
Oh! the girls of Nukuheva,
So fair and fond and free,
I shall see their girlish glances
Till I no more can see.