The Rhode Island American, And General Advertiser

Poetry.

FROM THE ALBANY BALANCE.

THE SAILORS MEETING IN PORT.

SONG.

Come, give me your fist, my good fellow,

I'm happy to shake it once more:

We'll laugh and we'll quaff while we're mellow.

And frolicks of youth prattle o'er.

By the trade-winds of life we are driven,

Unable to fetch where we look;

But, cheerfully met in this haven,

We'll straighten misfortune's worst crook.

What though we have sometimes bad weather,

Winds high and the sky overcast !

Our hearts should set light as a feather—

We'll reach a safe harbour at last..

For He, who commands the wide ocean,

Has something in store for us all,

He's our pilot in calms or commotion,

And we must obey at his call.

He knows when we merit his favour,

He knows when we forfeit the same ;

Then, Jack, let us mind our behaviour—

We ne'er can conceal a foul game.

Then let true hearts be united,

Here's a health to the honest and brave.

Wherever your faith has been plighted,

Bear it true till you sink in the grave.

In youth we were friends, my dear fellow—

Be friendship our latest delight :

Honest hearts, whether sober or mellow,

Are always the same, day or night.

Be friendship our bark on the ocean—

Be duty our strenuous oar :

When our voyages are up, no commotion

Shall drive us again from the port. R. R.