THE EXCISEMAN.

To a village that skirted the sea,
An Exciseman one Midsummer came,
But prudence between you and me,
Forbids me to mention his name;
Soon Michael he chanc'd to espy,
A case on his napper he bore,
With six gallons of brandy or nigh,
And where is the head can bear more

Says the Exciseman, Let's see your permit;

Says Mike, Tan't convenient to show it ;' T'other cried, 'Sir l'am not to be bit,

For you've smuggl'd that stuff, and you know it, Your hogs to a fine market you've brought; For seeing you've paid no excise, As customs have settl'd you naught, I siezes your tub as my prize.'

Now don't be so hard,' said poor Mike ; The Exciseman was deaf.to complaint; 'Why then take it,' said Mike.' if you like, For I've borne it til! ready to faint,' For miles in hot sunshine they trudg'd, Till on them they'd scarce a dry rag; The Exciseman his labour ne'er grudg'd: . But cheerfully carried the cag.

To the custom-house in the next town,
'Twas yet some three farlongs or more,
When, says Michael, pray set your load down
For this here sir, is my cottage door.'
T'other answer'd, I thank you friend, no;
My burthen just yet I shan't quit,'
Then says Michael, before you do go,
I'll get you to read my permit.'

'Your permit! Why not show it before?"
'Because it came into my nob,

By your watching for me on the shore,
That your worship was wanting a jov,

Now I'd need of a porter d'ye see,

For that load made my bones St to crack;

And so sir i thank you for me,

And wish you a pleasant walk hoal- '

THE POST CAPTAIN

When Steerwell heard me first impart,
Our brave commander's story,
With ardent zeal his youthful heart
Swell'd high for naval glory;
Resolv'd to gain a valiant name,
For bold adventures eager,

When first a little cabin-boy on board the Fame,
He would hold on the jigger,

While ten jolly tars, with musical Joe,

Hove the anchor a-peak, singing yoe heave yoe.

Yoe heave yoe, &c.

To hand top-ga'nt sails next he learned,
With quickness, care and spirit.
Whose generous master then discerned
And priz'd his dawning merit :
He taught him soon to reef and steer
When storms convuls'd the ocean,
Where shoals made skilful veterans fear,
Which mark'd him for promotion :
As none to the pilot e'er answered like he,
When he gave command, hard a-port, helm a-lee-
Luff, boys luff-keep her near,

Clear the buoy, make the pier :
None to the pilot e'er answered like he,
When he gave the command in the pool, or at sea,
Hard a-port, helm a-lee.

For valour, skill, and worth renown'd,
The foe he oft defeated,

And now with fame and fortune crown'd
Post Captain he is rated;

Who, should our injured country bleed,
Still bravely would defend her;
Now blest with peace-should beauty plead,
He'll prove his heart as tender.
Unaw'd yet mild to high and low,
To poor and wealthy, friend and foe.
Wounded tars share his wealth,

All the fleet drink his health:
Priz'd be such hearts, for aloft they will go.
Which always are ready compassion to show
To a brave conquer'd foe

HEAVING THE ANCHOR.

When first we hear the boatswain's bray
With a voice like thunder roaring,
All hands, my lads get under way;
Hark! the signal for unmooring.
To save the joyous breeze,
Our handspikes quick we seize.
In hopes to meet the foe-

Our capstern here, the windlass there,
We man to the tune of heo, hea, hco, &c

Cast loose your rop-sails next he cries,
Top-gallant sails and courses.
Clew-lines and geer, let go my boys,
Haul home your heets like horses;
The mizen too be glib,
Fore-stay-sail too, and jib,

Your downhauls boys, let go ;
We quick comply, and eager fly,

And obey to the tune of heo, hea, heo, &c,

The anchor's up oh! next we call

Avast boys, vast your heaving,
Our cat and fish we overhaul,
Our handspikes niinbly leaving;
Then if a prosperous gale,
We croud on every sail,
Our sheets they sweetly flow;
Along we swim, our braces trim,

And 'tis all to the tune of heo, hea, heo, &o,

The lovely Moll, and Sue, and Beck,
Their eyes with grief o'erflowing,
With heavy hearts now come on deck,
The rude winds on them blowing;
A short embrace we take,
Which makes our hearts to ache,
A while we're lost in woe;

Nor to our grief can find relief,

Till cheer'd by the tune of heo, hea, heo, &c

GET MARRIED AS FAST AS YOU CAN.

Ye virgins attend, believe me your friend,
And with prudence adhere to my plan;
Ne'er let it be said, there goes an old maid,
But get married as fast you can.

As you find that your hearts are inclin'd
To beat quick at the sight of a man ;
Then choose cut a youth, with honour and truth,
And get married as fast as you can.

For age like a cloud your charms soon will shroud,
And this whimsical life's but a span ;

Then, maids, make your hay, while Sol darts his ray,
And get marrried as fast as you can.

The treacherous rake will artfully take
Every method poor girls to trepan;
But baffle the snare, and make virtue your care,
And get married as fast as you can.

And when Hymen's bands have join'd both your hands,
The bright flame still continue to fan;
Ne'er harbour the stings which jealousy brings;
Be constant and blest while you can.

ALL'S WELL.

Deserted by the waning moon,

When skies proclaim night's cheerless noon,
On tower, or fort, or tented ground,
The centry walks his nightly round;
And should a footstep haply stray
Where caution marks the guarded way,
'Who goes there? Stranger quickly tell!"
'A friend,' the word-good night, all's well.'

Or sailing on the midnight deep,
While weary messmates soundly sleep;
The careful watch patroles the deck,
To guard the ship from foes or wreck;
And while his thoughts oft homeward veer,
Some well known voice salutes his ear,
'What cheer, oh! brother quickly tell?"
Above, below-good night, all's well.'

6

TOM BOWLING.

Here, a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling,
The darling of our crew;

No more he'll hear the tempest howling,
For death has broach'd him too;
His form was of the manliest beauty,
His heart was kind and soft;
Faithful below he did his duty,
And now he's gone aloft.

Tom never from his word departed,
His virtues were so rare;

His friends were many and true hearted,
His Poll was kind and fair.

And then he'd sing so blithe and jolly,
Ah! many's the time and oft!
But mirth is turn'd to melancholy
For Tom is gone aloft.

Yet shall poor Tom find pleasant weather,
When He who all commands,

Shall give to call life's crew together,

The word to pipe all hands.

Thus death, who kings and tars despatches,

In vain Tom's life has doff'd,

For though his body's under hatches,
His soul is gone aloft.

THE SAILOR'S LAST WHISTLE.

Whether sailor or not, for a moment avast,
Poor Jack's mizen-top sail is laid to the mast:
He'll never turn out, or more heave the lead,
He's now all aback, nor will sails shoot ahead:

Yet tho' worm's gnaw his timbers, his vessel's a wreck,
When he hears the last whistle, he'll jump upon deck!

Secur'd in his cabin, he's moor'd in his grave,
Nor hears any more the loud roar of the wave;
Press'd by death, he is sent to the tender below,
Where seaman and lubbers must every one go-
Yet tho' worms, &c.

With his frame a mere hulk, and his reckoning on board,
At length he dropp'd down to Mortality's road;

With Eternity's ocean before him in view,

He cheerfully popt out, my messmates adieu.'-
For tho' worms, &c.