Peggy Bawn (Edinburgh)/The minute gun
For other versions of this work, see The Minute Gun at Sea.
The Minute gun.
When in the storm on Albion’s coast,
The night-watch guards his wary post,
From thoughts of danger free,
He marks some vessel's dusky form,
And hears amid some bowling storm,
The minute gun at sea.
Swift on the shore a hardy tow
The life-boat man with a gallant crew,
And dare the dangerous wave;
Through the wild surf they cleave their way,
Lost in the foam, nor know dismay,
For they go the crew te save,
But oh what rapture fills each breast
Of the hapless crew of the ship distress'd,
Then landed safe what joy to tell
Of all the dangers that befel,
Then heard is no more,
By the watch on the shore,
The minute gun at sea.
FINIS.