4
Down top-gallants, quick be hawling,
Down your stay-sails; hand, boys, hand.
Now it freshens, set the braces,
Now the top-sail sheets let go;
Luff, boys, luff, don't make wry faces,
Up your top-sails nimbly clew.
Now all you on down beds sporting,
Fondly lock'd in beauty's arms,
Fresh enjoyment, wanton courting,
Safe from all but love's alarms:
Round us roars the tempest louder,
Think what fears our minds enthral;
Harder yet, it yet beats harder—
Now again the boatswain's call.
The top-sail yards point to the wind, boys,
See all clear to reef each course,
Let the fore-sheet go, don't mind, boys,
Tho' the weather should be worse:
Fore and aft the spritsail-yard get,
Reef the mizen, see all clear,
Hands up, each preventer brace set,
Man the fore-yard, cheer, lads, cheer.
Now the dreadful thunder's roaring,
Peal on peal contending clash,
On our heads fierce rain falls pouring,
In our eyes blue light'nings flash.
One wide water all around us,