University of Virginia Library


18

OUR SAILORS.

“O protect the hardy Tar,
Be mindful of his merit!
And when again you're plung'd in war
He'll shew his daring spirit!”

Rushton.
Sing, Muse, tho' feeble be thy strain,
Those who our liberties maintain,
Who fearless triumph on the main—
Our Sailors!
When freedom, property, and laws,
Are threaten'd by tyrannic foes,
Who first espouse the glorious cause?
Our Sailors!
Who scorn the despot stain'd with blood,
And scare his navies o'er the flood—
Destroy them, for our country's good?
Our Sailors!

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Who act thro' life an honest part?
Who always shew the gen'rous heart?
Who're dup'd by many a villain's art?
Our Sailors!
Who ever dry misfortune's tear,
Nor sorrow's tale refuse to hear;
Each helpless outcast proud to cheer?
Our Sailors!
Who guard our coast, protect the fair?
Who death and danger nobly dare?
Who bravely conquer, but to spare?
Our Sailors!
Who still supply our groaning boards,
With ev'ry dainty earth affords?
Who pity Gallia's vaunting hordes?
Our Sailors!
Who brave hidd'n rocks, and dang'rous seas?
Who bear the pestilential breeze?
Who taste not luxury nor ease?
Our Sailors!

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Who mid' the tempest's threat'ning blast,
Toil, fearless, on the giddy mast,
Or, cheerful sing, of dangers past?
Our Sailors!
Who death can face, without alarm,
In battle's rage, terrific storm,
When light'nings blue Heav'n's face deform?
Our Sailors!
Who, shipwreck'd on a foreign coast,
When many a merry comrade's lost,
Still happy Albion make their boast?
Our Sailors!
To them we owe whate'er we prize,
Domestic pleasures—social ties—
Woe unto him who dare despise
Our Sailors!
Indignant, let the Muse reveal,
Nor deeds oppressive dare conceal,
But tell the pangs they're doom'd to feel,
Our Sailors!

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Eager to hail their native land!
Eager to press some kindred hand,
While friendship greets along the strand,
Our Sailors!
A wife's embrace, a prattler's smile,
An honest welcome, free from guile,
These make forgetful of past toil
Our Sailors!
Oh! mark the ruthless fiends appear,
And from each dear connection tear
Men, who should be their country's care,
Our Sailors!
Blush! Britons, blush! to have it told,
That to the tender's putrid hold
Fell hirelings, cow'rdly, force the bold,
Our Sailors!
Peace to thy bosom, feeling Bard!

Mr. Edward Rushton, of Liverpool, Bookseller. The Poems of this Author discover extraordinary powers of mind, and genuine feeling. During the years of youth, he served as Doctor, on board a Liverpool trader; and it was owing to this circumstance, that he felt so deeply the cruelties inflicted on our brethren, the Sons of Africa. He was unfortunately deprived of sight, on the coast of Guinea; and for upwards of thirty years laboured under that melancholy calamity, respected and pitied by all ranks of mankind. During this period, he used every exertion for the suppression of that disgraceful traffic, the Slave Trade. In a letter to General Washington, he pays him every praise for his talents shewn in the field or the senate; but censures his conduct with great severity for being a dealer in Slaves. This letter, which went through many editions, gained him the esteem of all who could boast a spirit of independence. His love of mankind dictated to him, as a proper subject for his Muse, the horrid custom of impressing seamen—a custom which has long thrown a foul stain on the British government. It is but justice to this philan-thropist to declare, he has written some of the most interesting songs of which our language can boast.

Posterity have a right to consider themselves deeply indebted to our British Cicero, the Right Honourable Charles James Fox. The last public act of that illustrious statesman, was the abolition of the Slave Trade; an inhuman traffic, by which the world was long degraded.


Who suff'ring brethren didst regard;
And call'd on Britons, to reward
Our Sailors!

22

While British Tars are dear to fame
So long thy song shall praises claim;
And grateful will they bless thy name,
Our Sailors!