Ballad—in Will of the Wisp

'Twas post meridian, half past four, By signal I from Nancy parted, At six she lingered on the shore, With uplift hands and broken hearted, At seven, while taughtening the forestay, I saw her faint, or else 'twas fancy, At eight we all got under weigh, And bid a long adieu to Nancy.

Night came, and now eight bells had rung, While careless sailors, ever cheary, On the mid watch so jovial song, With tempers labour cannot weary: I, little to their mirth inclined, While tender thoughts rushed on my fancy, And my warm sighs increased the wind, Looked on the moon, and thought of Nancy.

And now arrived that jovial night, When every true bred tar carouses, When, o'er the grog, all hands delight To toast their sweethearts and their spouses: Round went the can, the jest, the glee, While tender wishes filled each fancy, And when, in turn, it came to me, I heaved a sigh, and toasted Nancy.

Next morn a storm came on at four, At six, the elements in motion, Plunged 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 seemed to forbid the waves, To snatch me from the arms of Nancy.

Scarce the foul hurricane was cleared. Scarce winds and waves had ceased to rattle, When a bold enemy appeared, And, dauntless, we prepared for battle: And now, while some loved friend, or wife, Like lightning, rushed 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. discovered day, And England's chalky cliffs together: At seven up channel how we bore, While hopes and fears rushed on my fancy, At twelve I gaily jumped ashore, And to my throbbing heart pressed Nancy.