The New Hampshire Gazette

EPITAPH on an honest SAILOR.

HERE a sheer hulk lies poor Tom Bowline,
The darling of our crew,
No more he'll hear the tempest's bowlings
For Death has broached him too.
His form was of the manliest beauty
His heart was kind and soft,
Faithful below he did his duty,
And now he's gone aloft.
Tom never from his word departed,
His virtues were so rare,
His friends were many and true hearted.
His Poll was kind and fair.
And then he'd sing so blithe and jolly,
Ah many's the time and oft!
But mirth has turned to melancholy
For Tom is gone aloft.
Yet shall poor Tom find pleasant weather.
When He who all commands,
Shall give, to call life's crew together,
The word to pipe all hands.
Thus Death, who kings and tars dispatches,
In vain Tom's life has doff'd,
For tho' his body's under hatches,
His soul has gone aloft.