For sailors were born for all weathers,
Great guns let it blow high, blow low,
Our duty keeps us to our tethers,
And where the gale drives we must go.

YE FLOWERS THAT BLOOM.

CHARLES DIBDIN.

Ye flowers that bloom in yonder mead,
Where flows the crystal tide,
And nibling lambkins sportive feed,
Along the current's side,

Ye oft have seen, and smil'd to see,
My love to him, his love to me.

Witness, ye flocks, ye herds, ye fawns,

That o'er the pastures stray,

Witness ye mountains, groves, and lawns,
Each painted child of May :
The greatest bliss I e'er can prove
Is to return my shepherd's love.

PEGGY PERKINS.

CHARLES DIBDIN.

Let bards elate

Of Sue and Kate,

And Moggy take their fill O
And pleas'd rehearse,

In jingling verse

The lass of Richmond Hill O.

A lass more bright

My amorous flight,

Impell'd by love's fond workings,

Shall loudly sing,

Like anything,

'Tis charming Peggy Perkins.

Some men compare

The favourite fair
To every thing in Nature?
Her eyes divine

Are suns that shine,

And so on with each feature.

Leave, leave ye fools
These hackneyed rules,

And all such subtle quirkings,
Sun, moon, and stars

Are all a farce

Compar'd to Peggy Perkins.

CRAZY JANE.

M. G. LEWIS.

Born 1773-Died 1818.

Why fair maid in every feature

Are such signs of fear express'd? Can a wand'ring wretched creature With such terror fill thy breast?

Do my frenzied looks alarm thee?
Trust me, sweet, thy fears are vain;
Not for kingdoms would I harm thee;
Shun not then poor Crazy Jane!

Dost thou weep to see my anguish ?
Mark me, and avoid my woe:
When men flatter, sigh, and languish,
Think them false-I found them so:
For I loved, oh! so sincerely,

None can ever love again;
But the youth I loved so dearly
Stole the wits of Crazy Jane!

Fondly my young heart received him,
Which was doomed to love but one;

He sighed, he vowed, and I believed him--
He was false, and I undone !

From that hour has reason never
Held her empire o'er my brain,
Henry fled; with him, for ever,
Fled the wits of Crazy Jane!

Now forlorn and broken-hearted,
And with frenzied thoughts beset,
On that spot where last we parted,
On that spot where first we met,
Still I sing my love-lorn ditty,
Still I slowly pace the plain;
While each passer-by, in pity,
Cries-God help thee, Crazy Jane !

WILLIAM AND SUSAN.

M. G. LEWIS.

When forc'd to quit his native land,
Young William bade farewell,
As Susan fondly wrung his hand
Her tears in torrents fell;

And soft she sigh'd, her anxious heart,

With many a fear beset,

Oh! would we were not now to part,
Or that we ne'er had met.

Dame Fortune smil❜d on William's pains,

And blest his growing store,

Now gone three years, his honest gains,

To Susan's feet he bore,

"Nor think," he said, "that William's heart, Can e'er its vows forget.

Dismiss your fears, no more we'll part,

Since we once more have met."

Ah! ere the honey-moon was flown,
They curs'd the marriage life,
A very husband Will was grown,

And Sue a very wife.

She said that he was false at heart,

He call'd her light coquette,

And both exclaim'd next week we'll part,
I wish we ne'er had met.

NANINE, OR THE EMIGRANT.

M. G. LEWIS.

On the waves the wind was sleeping,
Swift the boat approach'd the land;
There a lovely maid was weeping,
Who can female tears withstand?
Hush'd at once the boatswain's ditty,
Gently dipp'd his silent oar;
While he said in sounds of pity,
Prithee, sweet-heart, weep no more.

Then on land he sprung so lightly,
While with mingled hopes and fears,
Rais'd her head and beaming brightly,
Shone her blue eyes thro' her tears.
Left exposed to want and danger,
Friendless on a foreign shore;
Ah! she said, you vainly, stranger,
Kindly tell me, weep no more.

Far from home in exile roving,
Who shall now my shelter be,
Lost each friend, so loved, so loving,
Now what heart shall feel for me?
Poor Nanine, thy brain is turning,
Poor Nanine, thy heart is sore.
Poor Nanine, thy tears are burning,

Die Nanine, and weep no more,