All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet Being Sixty and three in Number. Collected into one Volume by the Author [i.e. John Taylor]: With sundry new Additions, corrected, reuised, and newly Imprinted |
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 | All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet |  |
Midst darkenesse, lightning, thunder, fleet, and raine,
Remorcelesse winds and, mercy-wanting Maine,
Amazement, horror, dread from each mans face
Had chas'd away liues bloud, and in the place
Was sad despaire, with haire heau'd vp vpright
With ashy visage, and with sad affright,
As if grim Death with his all murdering dart,
Had ayming beene at each mans bloudlesse heart,
Out cryes the Master, lower the top-saile, lower,
Then vp aloft runs scambling three or foure,
But yet for all their hurly burly hast,
E're they got vp, downe tumbles Saile and Mast.
Veere the maine sheat there, then the Master cride,
Let rise the fore tack, on the Larboord side:
Take in the fore-sayle, yare, good fellowes, yare,
Aluffe at helme there, ware no more, beware.
Steere South, South East there, I say ware, no more,
We are in danger of the Leeward shore,
Cleere your maine brace, let goe the bole in there,
Port, port, the helme hard, Romer come no neere.
Sound, sound, heaue, heaue the lead, what depth, what depth?
Fadom and a halfe, three all,
Then with a whiffe, the winds againe doe puffe,
And then the Master cries aluffe, aluffe,
Make ready th'anker, ready th'anker hoe,
Cleere, cleere the boighrope, steddy, well steer'd, so;
Hale vp the boat, in Sprit-sayle there afore,
Blow winde and burst, and then thou wilt giue o're,
Aluffe, clap helme a lee, yea, yea, done, done,
Downe, downe alow, into the hold, quicke runne.
There's a planck sprung, somthing in hold did break.
Pump bullies, Carpenters, quicke stop the leake.
Once heaue the lead againe, and sound abaffe,
A shafnet lesse, seuen all.
Let fall the Ancker there, let fall,
Man man the boat, a woat hale, vp hale,
Top yet maine yard, a port, yeere cable alow,
Ge way a head the boat there hoe, dee row,
Well pumpt my hearts of gold, who sayes amends
East and by South, West and by North she wends.
This was a weather with a witnesse here,
But now we see the skyes begin to cleare,
To dinner hey, and lets at ancker ride,
Till winds grow gentler, and a smoother tide.
Remorcelesse winds and, mercy-wanting Maine,
Amazement, horror, dread from each mans face
Had chas'd away liues bloud, and in the place
Was sad despaire, with haire heau'd vp vpright
With ashy visage, and with sad affright,
As if grim Death with his all murdering dart,
Had ayming beene at each mans bloudlesse heart,
Out cryes the Master, lower the top-saile, lower,
Then vp aloft runs scambling three or foure,
But yet for all their hurly burly hast,
E're they got vp, downe tumbles Saile and Mast.
Veere the maine sheat there, then the Master cride,
Let rise the fore tack, on the Larboord side:
Take in the fore-sayle, yare, good fellowes, yare,
Aluffe at helme there, ware no more, beware.
Steere South, South East there, I say ware, no more,
We are in danger of the Leeward shore,
Cleere your maine brace, let goe the bole in there,
Port, port, the helme hard, Romer come no neere.
Sound, sound, heaue, heaue the lead, what depth, what depth?
Fadom and a halfe, three all,
Then with a whiffe, the winds againe doe puffe,
And then the Master cries aluffe, aluffe,
Make ready th'anker, ready th'anker hoe,
Cleere, cleere the boighrope, steddy, well steer'd, so;
Hale vp the boat, in Sprit-sayle there afore,
Blow winde and burst, and then thou wilt giue o're,
Aluffe, clap helme a lee, yea, yea, done, done,
Downe, downe alow, into the hold, quicke runne.
There's a planck sprung, somthing in hold did break.
Pump bullies, Carpenters, quicke stop the leake.
Once heaue the lead againe, and sound abaffe,
A shafnet lesse, seuen all.
Let fall the Ancker there, let fall,
Man man the boat, a woat hale, vp hale,
Top yet maine yard, a port, yeere cable alow,
Ge way a head the boat there hoe, dee row,
Well pumpt my hearts of gold, who sayes amends
East and by South, West and by North she wends.
This was a weather with a witnesse here,
But now we see the skyes begin to cleare,
To dinner hey, and lets at ancker ride,
Till winds grow gentler, and a smoother tide.
[_]
J thinke I haue spoken Heathen Greeke, Vtopian, or Bermudian, to a great many of my readers, in the description of this storme, but indeed J wrote it onely for the vnderstanding Mariners reading, I did it three yeares since, and could not finde a fitter place then this to insert it, or else it must haue laine in silence. But to proceed to my former theame of Hemp-seed.
| All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet | |