BALLAD. (Jack Ratlin was the ablest seaman)

Jack Ratlin was the ablest seaman, None like him could hand, reef, and steer; No dangerous toil but he'd encounter, With skill, and in contempt of fear:

In fight a lion; the battle ended, Meek as the bleating lamb he'd prove; Thus Jack had manners, courage, merit— Yet did he sigh, and all for love.

The song, the jest, the flowing liquor, For none of these had Jack regard; He, while his messmates were carousing, High sitting on the pendant yard,

Would think upon his fair-one's beauties, Swear never from such charms to rove; That truly he'd adore them living, And, dying, sigh—to end his love.

The same express the crew commanded Once more to view their native land, Among the rest brought Jack some tidings, Would it had been his love's fair hand!

Oh fate!—her death defac'd the letter, Instant his pulse forgot to move; With quiv'ring lips, and eyes uplifted, He heav'd a sigh—and dy'd for love.