Hunting Songs. &c, SONG

'Twas post 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, when tautning the fore-stay, 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 cheary; 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 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 fill'd each fancy; And when in turn it came to me, I heav'd 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 grave, For me it may be only fancy; But love seemed to forbid the wave, To snatch me from the arms of Nancy.

Scarce the foul hurricane had clear'd, Scarce winds and 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 light'ning rush'd on ev'ry fancy; To Providence I trusted life, Put up a prayer and thought on 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 gayly jump'd on shore, And to my throbbing heart press'd Nancy.