The New Hampshire Gazette

THE SAILOR'S JOURNAL.

Written by Mr. Dibdin.

By AS past meridian, half past four,
By signal I from Nancy parted;
At six she linger'd on the shore,
With uplift hands, and broken hearted.
At seven, while tautening the fore-tay,
I saw her faint, or else 'twas fancy;
At eight we all got under way,
And bid a long adieu to Nancy.

Night came, and now eight bells had rung.
While careless sailors, ever cheery,
On the mid-watch so jovial sung,
With tempers labour cannot weary.
I little to their mirth inclin'd,
While tender thoughts rush'd on my fancy
And my warm sighs increas'd the wind,
Look'd on the moon and thought of Nancy.

And now arriv'd that jovial night,
When ev'ry true-bred tar carouses,
When o'er the grog, all hands delight,
To toast their sweethearts & 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 heard a sigh and toasted Nancy.

Next morn a storm came 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 seem'd to forbid the waves
To snatch me from the arms of Nancy.

Scarce the foul hurricane was clear'd.
Scarce winds & waves had ceas'd to rattle.
When a bold enemy appear'd,
And, dauntless, we prepar'd for battle.
And now while some lov'd friend or wife,
Like lightning rush'd on every fancy
To Providence I trusted life,
Put up a prayer and thought of 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 on shore,
And to my throbbing heart press'd Nancy!