The Nautical Rendezvous[175]

Written at a house in Guadaloupe, in 1800, where they were collecting Recruits for a Privateer

The ship preparing for the main Enlists a wild, but gallant train, Who in a moving jail would roam Disgusted with the world at home.

They quit the fields and quit the trees To seek their bread on stormy seas; Perhaps to see the land no more, Or see, but not enjoy the shore.

There must be some as this world goes Who every joy and pleasure lose, And round the world at random stray To gain their bread the shortest way.

They hate the ax, they hate the hoe And execrate the rural plough, The mossy bank, the sylvan shade Where once they wrought, where once they play'd:

Prefer a boisterous, mad career, A broken leg, and wounds severe, To all the joys that can be found On mountain top or furrow'd ground.

A hammock holds them when they sleep; A tomb, when dying, in the deep, A crowded deck, a cann of beer These sons of Amphitrite prefer To all the verdure of the fields Or all a quiet pillow yields.

There must be such a nervous race, Who venture all, and no disgrace; Who will support through every blast, The shatter'd ship, the falling mast-- Who will support through every sea The sacred cause of liberty, And every foe to ruin drag Who aims to strike the gallic flag.

From the 1815 edition.