Look! look at her now and see her dance. Oh, why do you turn so pale?
'Tis an English ship and an English crew, So, mother, be proud of your boy in blue. Oh, wonder not that next to thee
I love the galloping wave,
'Tis the first of coursers wild and free,
And only carries the brave;
It has borne me nigh to the dark lee shore,
But we struggled heart and hand,
And a fight with the sea in its angry roar
Shames all your strife on land.
The storm was long, but it found me true,
So, mother, be proud of your boy in blue.
And if the breakers kill our ship,
And your boy goes down in the foam,
Be sure the last breath on his lip
Is a prayer for those at home.
But come, cheer up! methinks I heard
A voice in the anchor-chain
That whisper'd like a fairy bird,
"The bark will come back again."
God bless you, mother; adieu! adieu!
But never weep for your boy in blue.
THE SOLDIER-BOY.
Dr. WILLIAM MAGINN.
I GIVE my soldier-boy a blade
In fair Damascus fashion'd well;
Who first the glittering falchion sway'd,
Who first beneath its fury fell,
I know not, but I hope to know,
That for no mean or hireling trade,
To guard no feeling base or low,
I give my soldier-boy a blade.
Cold, calm, and clear the lucid flood,
In which the tempering work was done;
As calm, as clear, as cool of mood,
Be thou whene'er it sees the sun.
For country's claim, at honour's call,
For outraged friend, insulted maid;
At mercy's voice to bid it fall,
I give my soldier-boy a blade.
The eye which mark'd its peerless edge,
The hand that weigh'd its balanced poise,
Anvil and pincers, forge and wedge,
Are gone with all their flame and noise,
And still the gleaming sword remains;
So when in dust I low am laid,
Remember, by those heart-felt strains,
I gave my soldier-boy a blade.
THE SEA-BOY'S FAREWELL.
Music at J. F. Harris's.
WAIT, wait, ye winds, till I repeat
A parting signal to the fleet
Whose station is at home.
Then waft the sea-boy's simple prayer,
And let it oft be whisper'd there,
While other climes I roam.
Farewell to father, rev'rend hulk,
Who, spite of metal, spite of bulk,
Must soon his cable slip;
But ere he's broken up, I'll try
The flag of gratitude to fly,
In duty to the ship.
Farewell to mother, first-rate she,
Who launch'd me on life's stormy sea,
And rigg'd me fore and aft.
May Providence her timbers spare,
And keep her hull in good repair,
To tow the smaller craft.
Farewell to George, the jolly boat,
And all the little craft afloat
In home's delightful bay.
When they arrive at sailing age,
May wisdom give the weather-gauge,
And guide them on their way.
Farewell to all; on life's rude main
Perhaps we ne'er may meet again,
Through stress of stormy weather.
But, summon'd by the Board above,
We'll harbour in the port of love,
And all be moor'd together.
Farewell, farewell.
THE SOLDIER'S TEAR.
J. H. BAYLY.-Music at Duff and Hodgson's. UPON the hill he turn'd
To take a last fond look
Of the valley and the village church,
And the cottage by the brook;
He listen'd to the sounds
So familiar to his ear;
And the soldier lean'd upon his sword, And wiped away a tear.
Beside the cottage porch
A girl was on her knees. She held aloft a snowy scarf
Which flutter'd in the breeze :
She breathed a prayer for him,
A prayer he could not hear,
But he paused to bless her as she knelt,
And wiped away a tear.
He turn'd and left the spot,
Oh, do not deem him weak,
For dauntless was the soldier's heart,
Though tears were on his cheek.
Go watch the foremost ranks
In danger's dark career,
Be sure the hand most daring there
Has wiped away a tear.
THE SAILOR'S TEAR.
Music at J. F. Harris's.
HE leap'd into his boat, as it lay upon the strand,But, oh! his heart was far away with friends upon [infant dear,
the land; He thought of those he loved the best-a wife and And feeling fill'd the sailor's breast,-the sailor's eye
They stood upon the far-off cliff, and waved a kerchief white, [of sight; And gazed upon his gallant bark till she was out The sailor cast a look behind, no longer they were
[a tear. Then to the canvas raised his eye, and wiped away Ere long o'er ocean's bluc expanse his sturdy bark has sped, [ahead; The gallant sailor from her prow descries a sail And then he raised his mighty arm, for Britain's foe
[tear. Ay, then he raised his arm-but not to wipe away a
THE SAILOR'S FAREWELL.
FAREWELL, father! I must leave thee,
The anchor's weigh'd, I must aboard;
Do not let my absence grieve thee,
Of sorrow do not breathe a word.
What though foaming ocean sever
Me from thee? Yet still my heart
Loves you, father, and will ever,
Though stern duty bids us part.
Farewell, mother! dearest mother!
Do not grieve, I shall return
Crown'd with laurels; pray do smother
That sad sigh! Oh, do not mourn,
You unman me with your kindness:
Oh! chase these tears from off thy brow;
Now round thy lips sweet smiles are creeping!
Bless thee, mother-farewell, now!
Farewell, sister! do not weep so,
Though I leave thee for awhile;
I'll love thee still while on the deep, now
Cheer my heart with thy sweet smile.
Soothe our mother with thy kindness,
And I'll bless thee when away!
Oh, forgive my youthful blindness!
Thanks, dear sister-farewell, say!
Farewell, brother! be a kind one,
Protect our mother-I'm away.
Hark! the gun! 'tis to remind me
On shore I must no longer stay.
The anchor's weigh'd, the sails are spreading,
The boat is waiting in the bay;
Farewell, all my kind relations,
Pray for me when far away.
A BLESSING ON THE OUTWARD BOUND.
Hon. Mrs. NORTON.-Music at Chappell's.
A BLESSING on the outward bound,
Wherever they may go,
From hills and dales their fathers own'd,
Or cottage poor and low.
'Tis no slight thing to part from home,
Whate'er that home may be;
To trust a doubtful future, on
The wild and stormy sea.
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