"O gentle wind, that bloweth south From where my Love repaireth, Convey a kiss frae his dear mouth And tell me how he fareth! "O tell sweet Willie to come doun "The lav'rock there, wi' her white breast "O Leader haughs are wide and braid "But Willie's gone, whom I thought on, And does not hear me weeping; Draws many a tear frae true love's e'e When other maids are sleeping. "Yestreen I made my bed fu' braid, "O came ye by yon water-side? Or came you by yon meadow green, She sought him up, she sought him down, Syne, in the cleaving of a craig, She found him drown'd in Yarrow! Unknown 165 LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE Toll for the Brave! The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave Fast by their native shore! Eight hundred of the brave, And laid her on her side. A land-breeze shook the shrouds Down went the Royal George, Toll for the brave! Brave Kempenfelt is gone; It was not in the battle; 166* His sword was in its sheath, -Weigh the vessel up Once dreaded by our foes! The tears that England owes. Her timbers yet are sound, And she may float again, Full charged with England's thunder, And plough the distant main. But Kempenfelt is gone, His victories are o'er; And he and his eight hundred Shall plough the wave no more. William Cowper BLACK-EYED SUSAN All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd, William, who high upon the yard The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands And quick as lightning on the deck he stands. So the sweet lark, high poised in air, "O Susan, Susan, lovely dear, My vows shall ever true remain; Let me kiss off that falling tear; We only part to meet again. Change as ye list, ye winds; my heart shall be "Believe not what the landmen say Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind; They'll tell thee, sailors, when away, In every port a mistress find: Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so, "If to fair India's coast we sail, Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright; Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale, Thy skin is ivory so white: Thus every beauteous object that I view "Though battle call me from thy arms William shall to his Dear return. Love turns aside the balls that round me fly, Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye." The boatswain gave the dreadful word, The sails their swelling bosom spread, They kiss'd, she sigh'd, he hung his head. 167* SALLY IN OUR ALLEY Of all the girls that are so smart Her father he makes cabbage-nets And through the streets does cry 'em; Her mother she sells laces long To such as please to buy 'em. She is the darling of my heart, When she is by, I leave my work, |