A New Song called The Sea, The Sea To which is added, The Last Shilling, Tho' you leave me now in sorrow, Irish Mary, The Marseillois Hymn [by Bryan Waller Procter] |
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 | A New Song called The Sea, The Sea |  |
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THE SEA, THE SEA.
The sea, the sea, the open sea!
The blue, the fresh, the ever free,
Without a mark, without a bound,
It runneth the earth's wide regions round,
It plays with the clouds, it mocks the skies,
Or like a cradled creature lies.
The blue, the fresh, the ever free,
Without a mark, without a bound,
It runneth the earth's wide regions round,
It plays with the clouds, it mocks the skies,
Or like a cradled creature lies.
I'm on the sea! I'm on the sea!
I am where I would ever be,
With the blue above and the blue below,
And silence wheresoe'r I go.
If a storm should come and awake the deep,
What matter? what matter? I shall ride and sleep
I am where I would ever be,
With the blue above and the blue below,
And silence wheresoe'r I go.
If a storm should come and awake the deep,
What matter? what matter? I shall ride and sleep
I love O, how I love to glide,
To glide on the fierce foaming bursting tide,
When every mad wave drowns the moon,
Or whistles aloft his tempest tune,
And tells how goeth the world below,
And why the south-west blast doth blow.
To glide on the fierce foaming bursting tide,
When every mad wave drowns the moon,
Or whistles aloft his tempest tune,
And tells how goeth the world below,
And why the south-west blast doth blow.
I never was on the dull tame shore,
But I loved the great sea more and more,
And backward flew to her billowy breast,
Like a bird that seeketh her mother's nest;
And a mother she was and is to me,
For I was born on thé open sea.
But I loved the great sea more and more,
And backward flew to her billowy breast,
Like a bird that seeketh her mother's nest;
And a mother she was and is to me,
For I was born on thé open sea.
The waves were white, and red the morn,
In the noisy hour when I was born,
And the whale it whistled and the porpoise roll'd,
And the dolphins bared their backs of gold,
And never was heard such an outcry wild,
As welcom'd to life the ocean child.
In the noisy hour when I was born,
And the whale it whistled and the porpoise roll'd,
And the dolphins bared their backs of gold,
And never was heard such an outcry wild,
As welcom'd to life the ocean child.
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I have lived since then in calm and strife,
Full fifty summers, a rover's life,
With wealth to spend, and power to range,
But never has sought or sighed for change,
And death whenever he comes to me,
Shall come on the wild unbounded sea.
Full fifty summers, a rover's life,
With wealth to spend, and power to range,
But never has sought or sighed for change,
And death whenever he comes to me,
Shall come on the wild unbounded sea.
THO' YOU LEAVE ME NOW IN SORROW.
Tho' you leave me now in sorrow,
Smiles may light our love to-morrow:
Doom'd to part, my faithful heart,
A gleam of joy from hope shall borrow.
Smiles may light our love to-morrow:
Doom'd to part, my faithful heart,
A gleam of joy from hope shall borrow.
Ah ne'er forget when friends are near,
This heart alone is thine for ever,
Thou may'st find those will love thee dear,
But not a love like mine, O never.
This heart alone is thine for ever,
Thou may'st find those will love thee dear,
But not a love like mine, O never.
THE LAST SHILLING.
As pensive one night in my garret I sate,
My last shilling produced on the table;
That adventurer, cried I, might a history relate,
If to think and to speak it were able.
Whether fancy or magic `twas play'd me the freak,
The face seem'd with life to be filling:
And cried, instantly speaking or seeming to speak,
Pay attention to me—thy last shilling.
My last shilling produced on the table;
That adventurer, cried I, might a history relate,
If to think and to speak it were able.
Whether fancy or magic `twas play'd me the freak,
The face seem'd with life to be filling:
And cried, instantly speaking or seeming to speak,
Pay attention to me—thy last shilling.
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I was once the last coin of the law a sad limb,
Who, in cheating was ne'er known to falter,
'Dill at length brought to justice the law cheated him,
And he paid me to buy him a halter.
A Jack tar, all his rhino, but me, at an end,
With a pleasure so hearty and willing,
Tho' hungry himself, to a poor distress'd friend,
Wished it hundreds, and gave his last shilling.
Who, in cheating was ne'er known to falter,
'Dill at length brought to justice the law cheated him,
And he paid me to buy him a halter.
A Jack tar, all his rhino, but me, at an end,
With a pleasure so hearty and willing,
Tho' hungry himself, to a poor distress'd friend,
Wished it hundreds, and gave his last shilling.
Twas the wife of a messmate, whose olistening eye,
With pleasure ran o'er as she view'd me:
She changed me for bread, as her child she heard cry,
And at parting with tears she bedew'd me.
But I've other scenes known, riot leading the way,
Pale want their poor families chilling;
Where rakes in their revels, the piper to pay,
Have spurned me—their best friend and last shilling.
With pleasure ran o'er as she view'd me:
She changed me for bread, as her child she heard cry,
And at parting with tears she bedew'd me.
But I've other scenes known, riot leading the way,
Pale want their poor families chilling;
Where rakes in their revels, the piper to pay,
Have spurned me—their best friend and last shilling.
'Thou thyself hast been thoughtless, profligate bail,
But to-morrow all care shalt thou bury,
When my little history thou offerest for sale,
In the interim spend me and be merry.
Never never, cried I, thou'rt my mentor, my muse,
And grateful, thy dictates fulfilling,
I'll hoard the in my heart,—thus men council refuse,
Till the lecture comes from the last shilling.
But to-morrow all care shalt thou bury,
When my little history thou offerest for sale,
In the interim spend me and be merry.
Never never, cried I, thou'rt my mentor, my muse,
And grateful, thy dictates fulfilling,
I'll hoard the in my heart,—thus men council refuse,
Till the lecture comes from the last shilling.
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IRISH MARY.
Far away from Erin's strand,
And valleys wide, and sounding waters,
Still she is in every land,
One of Erin's fairest daughters;
Oh to meet her here is like,
A dream of home, and natal mountains!
On our hearts their voices strike—
We hear the gushing of their fountains!
Yes! our Irish Mary, dear!
Our own, our real Irish Mary!
A flower of home, fresh blooming come,
Art thou to us, our Irish Mary!
And valleys wide, and sounding waters,
Still she is in every land,
One of Erin's fairest daughters;
Oh to meet her here is like,
A dream of home, and natal mountains!
On our hearts their voices strike—
We hear the gushing of their fountains!
Yes! our Irish Mary, dear!
Our own, our real Irish Mary!
A flower of home, fresh blooming come,
Art thou to us, our Irish Mary!
Round about us here we see
Bright eyes, like her's, and sunny faces,
Charming all!—if all were free
Of foreign airs, of borrowed graces.
Mary's eye is flashing truth!
And Mary's spirit, Mary's nature,
‘Irish Lady,” fresh in youth,
‘Have beam'd o'er every look and feature,
Yes! our Irish Mary, dear!
When la tournure doth make us weary,
We have you, to turn unto,
For native grace, our Irish Mary!
Bright eyes, like her's, and sunny faces,
Charming all!—if all were free
Of foreign airs, of borrowed graces.
Mary's eye is flashing truth!
And Mary's spirit, Mary's nature,
‘Irish Lady,” fresh in youth,
‘Have beam'd o'er every look and feature,
Yes! our Irish Mary, dear!
When la tournure doth make us weary,
We have you, to turn unto,
For native grace, our Irish Mary!
Sighs of home—her Erin's songs—
O'er all their songs we love to listen,
Tears of home! her Erin's wrongs
Subdue our kindred eyes to glisten!
Oh! should woe to gloom consign
The clear fire-side of love and honour,
You will see a holier sign
Of Irish Mary bright upon her.
Yes! our Irish Mary dear!
Will light that home, tho' e'er so dreary,
Shining still o'er clouds of ill,
Sweet star of life, our Irish Mary.
O'er all their songs we love to listen,
Tears of home! her Erin's wrongs
Subdue our kindred eyes to glisten!
Oh! should woe to gloom consign
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You will see a holier sign
Of Irish Mary bright upon her.
Yes! our Irish Mary dear!
Will light that home, tho' e'er so dreary,
Shining still o'er clouds of ill,
Sweet star of life, our Irish Mary.
THE MARSEILLOIS HYMN.
The day is come, the day of glory,
Rise, children of our country, rise!
Rise, for the despot's standard gory,
The despot's standard flaps the skies!
The despot's standard flaps the skies!
And hark! the hordes—the bloody minions
Of tyrants, bloodier far than they;
They come on desolation's pinions
To make yonr sons—your friends, their prey,
Then away to the fray with your bright flags high;
We go—we go,
And the blood of the foe shall our furrows dye.
Rise, children of our country, rise!
Rise, for the despot's standard gory,
The despot's standard flaps the skies!
The despot's standard flaps the skies!
And hark! the hordes—the bloody minions
Of tyrants, bloodier far than they;
They come on desolation's pinions
To make yonr sons—your friends, their prey,
Then away to the fray with your bright flags high;
We go—we go,
And the blood of the foe shall our furrows dye.
These perjured kings—these slaves base-hearted,
Is it for us they forge the chain?
For us—who into life have started,
Ne'er to know slavery's death again!
Ne'er to know slavery's death again!
For us—the free—the noble minded,—
For us—O, insult—crime and wrong!
What folly hath their viston blinded?
For us—the proud—the brave—the strong.
Then, away, &c.
Is it for us they forge the chain?
For us—who into life have started,
Ne'er to know slavery's death again!
Ne'er to know slavery's death again!
For us—the free—the noble minded,—
For us—O, insult—crime and wrong!
What folly hath their viston blinded?
For us—the proud—the brave—the strong.
Then, away, &c.
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They come to outrage God and nature's
First, best and most sublime decree;
The—base and mercenary creatures,
To flout the sons of liberty!
To flout the sons of liberty!
They come—our free born limbs to fetter,
To fling in dust our upward thought;
Spirit of freedom! no! far better
Thy sacred lessons we were taught.
Then away, &c.
First, best and most sublime decree;
The—base and mercenary creatures,
To flout the sons of liberty!
To flout the sons of liberty!
They come—our free born limbs to fetter,
To fling in dust our upward thought;
Spirit of freedom! no! far better
Thy sacred lessons we were taught.
Then away, &c.
Then tremble, ye prefidious! tremble;
Corrupt and servile creatures, fly!
The hosts of liberty assemble,
Your well won recompence is nigh!
Your well won recompence is nigh!
All here are heroes—all are brothers,
And if they faint, and if they fall,
The feitlle earth shall bring forth others,
Ready to die or conquer—all!
Then away, &c.
Corrupt and servile creatures, fly!
The hosts of liberty assemble,
Your well won recompence is nigh!
Your well won recompence is nigh!
All here are heroes—all are brothers,
And if they faint, and if they fall,
The feitlle earth shall bring forth others,
Ready to die or conquer—all!
Then away, &c.
Our fathers fought the fight victorious,
Shall we our fathers' name disgrace,
We follow in their footsteps glorious,
And 'midst their tombs their virtues trace!
And 'midst their tombs their virtues trace!
Their fame—their deeds—their memory cherished,
The brave are children of the brave;—
We will avenge them where they perish'd,
And summon freedom from their grave!
Then away, &c.
Shall we our fathers' name disgrace,
We follow in their footsteps glorious,
And 'midst their tombs their virtues trace!
And 'midst their tombs their virtues trace!
Their fame—their deeds—their memory cherished,
The brave are children of the brave;—
We will avenge them where they perish'd,
And summon freedom from their grave!
Then away, &c.
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Yet mercy—from her al tar speaking,
Will cry—Restrain the avenging blow,
For some there are whose hearts are breaking,
Whose hands the bolts of slavery throw!
Whose hands the bolts of slavery throw!
But for the tyrants—those who seated
On thrones, the best of men condemn
To scaffolds—be no mercy meted,—
For why should mercy smile on them?
Then away, &c.
Will cry—Restrain the avenging blow,
For some there are whose hearts are breaking,
Whose hands the bolts of slavery throw!
Whose hands the bolts of slavery throw!
But for the tyrants—those who seated
On thrones, the best of men condemn
To scaffolds—be no mercy meted,—
For why should mercy smile on them?
Then away, &c.
INVOCATION.
O, holy love of country speed us,Our guide, our trust, our guardian be,
O, frecdom cherish freedom lead us,
And fight for those who fight for thee!
And fight for those who fight for thee!
Thy voice is heard, thy flag is flying,
The day is won—thy foemen see,
While midst the dust in anguish dying,
Our glory and thy victory.
Then away, &c.
| A New Song called The Sea, The Sea | |