’Twas post meridian, half-past four By signal I from Nancy parted; At six she lingered on the shore, With uplift hands and broken-hearted. At seven while taught’ning the forestay, I saw her faint, or else ’twas fancy: At eight we all got under weigh, And bid a long adieu to Nancy.
Night came, and now eight bells had rung, While careless sailors, ever cheery, In the mid watch so joval sung, With tempers labour cannot weary. I, little to their mirth inclined, While tender thoughts rush’d on my fancy And my warm sighs encreased the wind, Lock’d on the moon, and thought on Nancy.
And now arrived that joval night, When every true-bred tar carouses, When o'er the grog all hands delight To toast their sweathearts and their spouses: Round went the can, the jest, the glee, While tender wishes fill’d each fancy. And when in turn it came to me, I heaved a sigh, and toasted Nancy.
Next morn a storm come on at four: At six the elements in motion, Plung’d me and three poor sailors more, Headlong within the foaming ocean, Poor wretches! they soon found their graves For me, it may be only fancy But love seemed to forbid the waves To snatch me from the arms of Nancy.
Scarce the foul hurricane was clear’d Scarce winds and waves had ceased to rattle, When a bold enemy appear’d, And dauntless we prepared for battle. And now, while some lov’d friend or wife, Like lightening rush’d on every fancy, To providence I trusted life, Put up a prayer and thought on Nancy.
At last, ’twas in the month of May, The crew, it being lovely weather, At three A. M. discover’d day, And England’s chalky cliffs together. At Seven up channel how we bore, While hopes and fears rush’d on my fancy At twelve I gaily jump’d ashore, And to my throbbing heart prest Nancy.
