| First Line |
Page |
Verses |
| When Jack parted from me to plough the salt deep |
3-4 |
3 |
| Ben Backstay lov'd the gentle Anna |
4-5 |
3 |
| Busy crew their sails unbending, The |
5 |
5 |
| When last from the straits we had fairly cast anchor |
5-6 |
6 |
| Jack Ratlin was the ablest seaman |
6-7 |
3 |
| Yet, though I've no fortune to offer |
7 |
5 |
| When sailing for Columbia's land |
8 |
3 |
| When the anchor's weigh'd, and the ship's unmoor'd |
8-9 |
6 |
| When my money was gone that I gain'd in the wars |
9-10 |
6 |
| Moment Aurora peep'd onto my room, The |
10-11 |
6 |
| I lock'd up all my treasure |
11 |
3 |
| Of the ancients is't speaking my soul you'd be after |
12 |
5 |
| I sail'd from the downs in the Nancy |
13-14 |
5 |
| Bleak was the morn when William left his Nancy |
14-15 |
3 |
| I sing of that life of delight beyond measure |
15-16 |
3 |
| Come all hands ahoy to the anchor |
16-17 |
6 |
| My heart from my bosom would fly |
18 |
3 |
| Let bards elate |
18-19 |
3 |
| When William, at eve, meets me down at the gate |
19 |
2 |
| What beauties does Flora disclose! |
20 |
4 |
| Ere around the huge oak that o'ershadows yon mill |
21 |
3 |
| Adieu to the village delights |
21-22 |
3 |
| Day is departed and round from the cloud, The |
22 |
3 |
| Adieu, adieu, my only life |
23 |
3 |
| Blest as th' immortal gods is he |
24 |
4 |
| I've kiss'd and I've prattled with fifty fair maids |
24-25 |
4 |
| From the man whom I love, though my heart I disguise |
25 |
4 |
| My love was once a bonny lad |
26-27 |
5 |
| 'Twas near a thicket's calm retreat |
27 |
3 |
| Thou rising sun whose gladsome ray |
28 |
7 |
| Storm had ceas'd. the vessel, striving, The |
29 |
3 |
| Boatswain calls, the wind is fair, The |
29-30 |
3 |
| And did you hear what sad disaster |
30-31 |
4 |
| Ma chere amie, my charming fair |
31-32 |
3 |
| Farewell, ye green fields and sweet groves |
32 |
3 |
| Give ear to me, both high and low |
33 |
6 |
| Sup of good whiskey will make you glad, A |
33-35 |
7 |
| 'Twas post meridian, half past four |
35-36 |
6 |
| I be one of them sailors who thinks 'tis no lie |
36-37 |
4 |
| O you, whose lives on land are pass'd |
37 |
3 |
| 'Twas near a rock, within a bay |
38 |
7 |
| Young William was a seaman true |
39 |
4 |
| Breeze was fresh, the ship in stays, The |
39-40 |
4 |
| Dear Nancy I've sailed the world all around |
40-41 |
3 |
| Distress me with those tears no more |
41-42 |
3 |
| Life is chequer'd---toil and pleasure |
42-43 |
2 |
| Yarmouth roads are right ahead, The |
43-44 |
3 |
| Wand'ring sailor ploughs the main, The |
44-45 |
3 |
| All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd |
45-46 |
8 |
| Blow high, blow low, let tempest tear |
46-47 |
3 |
| Sweet is the ship that's under sail |
47-48 |
4 |
| Why, what's it to you, if my eyes, I'm a wiping |
48-49 |
|
| Cease, rude Boreas, blust'ring railer! |
49-51 |
9 |
| Behold! from many a hostile shore |
51 |
2 |
| Come, come my jolly lads |
52 |
4 |
| Sweet Annie frae the sea-beach came |
53 |
8 |
| Wind was hush'd, the storm was over, The |
54 |
4 |
| Fair Sally lov'd a bonny seaman |
55-56 |
6 |
| Ye sportsmen draw near, and ye sportswomen too |
56 |
3 |
| Shout is gone forth, hark the deep singing hound, The |
57 |
3 |
| Now mounted, so-ho, away let us go |
58 |
4 |
| Loose every sail to the breeze |
58 |
4 |
| To pleasure let's raise the heart-cheering song |
59 |
4 |
| Then farewel, my trim-built wherry! [sic] |
59 |
3 |
| Why droops my Nan and why those tears? |
60 |
2 |
| Sailor's love is void of art, A |
60-61 |
3 |
| Blush of Aurora now tinges the morn, The |
61-62 |
3 |
| Come rouse, brother sportsmen, the hunters all cry |
62-63 |
5 |
| Whistling ploughman hails the blushing dawn, The |
63-64 |
5 |
| Bright Chanticleer proclaims the dawn |
64 |
3 |
| Sun from the East tips the mountains with gold, The |
65 |
5 |
| When Phoebus begins just to peep o'er the hills |
66 |
3 |
| Hark! hark! the joy inspiring horn |
66-67 |
4 |
| With early horn, salute the morn |
67 |
2 |
| Dusky night rides down the sky, The |
68 |
6 |
| Sprightly horn awakes the morn, The |
69 |
2 |
| Bright Phoebus has mounted the chariot of day |
69 |
3 |
| By moon-light on the green |
70 |
3 |
| Weep, weep, for poor Anna, ye fair |
71 |
9 |
| Dear Image of the maid I love |
72 |
4 |
| When first a babe upon the knee |
72 |
|