The Tempest, To which are added…/The Tempest
THE TEMPEST.
TUNE———BROTHER DEBTOR.
CEASE, rude Boreas, bluſt'ring railer,
listen ye landmen all to me:
Meſs-mates, hear a brother ſailor,
ſing the dangers of the ſea.
From bounding billows firſt in motion,
where the diſtant whirlwinds riſe,
To the tempeſt-troubled ocean,
when the ſeas contend with ſkies.
Hark! the boatſwain hoarſely bawling,
by top-ſail-ſheets and haulyards ſtand,
Down top-gallants, quick be hauling,
down your ſtay-ſails, hand boys, hand.
Now it freſhens, ſet the braces,
the lee top-ſail-ſheet 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 'twixt beauty's arms,
Freſh engagement, wanting courting,
ſafe from all but love's alarms.
Around us roars the tempeſt louder;
think what fear our minds enthral:
Harder yet, it blows yet harder,
now again the boatſwain's call.
The top-ſailward 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 mizzen, ſee all clear;
Hands up, each preventure brace fet,
man the fore-yard; cheer, lads, cheer.
Now the dreadful thunder's roaring,
peals on peals contending claſh,
On your heads fierce rain falls pouring,
in your eyes blue lightnings flaſh.
One wide water all around us.
all above but one black ſky!
Diff'rent deaths at once ſurround us,
hark! What means yon dreadful cry?
The foremaſt's gone, cries every tongue out,
o'er the lee, twelve feet 'bove deck!
A leak beneath the cheſtree's ſprung out!
call all hands to clear the wreck,
Quick she laniards cut to pieces,
come, my hearts, be ſtout and bold;
Plumb the well, the leak increaſes,
four feet water's in the hold!
While o'er die ſhip the wild waves beatings;
we for, wives ard children mourn:
Alas! from them there's no retreating,
alas! to them there's no return!
Still tit leak is gaining on us!
both chain-pumps are cboak'd below;
Heav'n have mercy here upon us!
only He can ſave us now.
On the lee-beam is the land, boys,
let the guns o'er board be thrown;
To the pump come ev'ry hand boys,
ſee her mizzen-maſt is gone.
The leak, we’ve found, it cannot pour faſt,
we’ve light’ned her a foot and more;
Then up and rig a jury foremaſt,
ſhe’s tight, ſhe’s tight, boys, we’re off ſhore.
Now once more, on joys we're thinking,
ſince kind Fortune ſav’d our lives:
Come, the cann, boys, let's be drinking,
to our ſweethearts and our wives.
Fill it up, about ſhip wheel it,
clofe to the lips the brimmer join,
Where’s the tempeſt now? Who ſee’s it?
none—our danger’s drown’d in wine.