Home poems/ page 9 of 465 /
Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings Filling each mouth with envy, or with praise, And all her jealous monarchs with amaze And rumours loud, that daunt remotest kings;Thy firm unshak'n virtue ever brings Victory home, though new rebellions raise Their hydra heads, and the false north displays Her brok'n league, to imp their serpent wings:O yet a nobler task awaits thy hand; For what can war but endless war still breed? Till Truth and Right from Violence be freed,And Public Faith clear'd from the shameful brand Of Public Fraud
During a tempest encountered homeward-bound from the Mediterranean, a grizzled petty-officer, one of the two captains of the forecastle, dying at night in his hammock, swung in the sick-bay under the tiered gun-decks of the British Dreadnought, 98, wandering in his mind, though with glimpses of sanity, and starting up at whiles, sings by snatches his good-bye and last injunctions to two messmates, his watchers, one of whom fans the fevered tar with the flap of his old sou'-wester
I love this land of forest grand! The land where labour's free;Let others roam away from home, Be this the land for me!Where no one moils, and strains and toils, That snobs may thrive the faster;And all are free, as men should be, And Jack's as good's his master!
Where none are slaves, that lordly knaves May idle all the year;For rank and caste are of the past,-- They'll never flourish here!And Jew or Turk if he'll but work, Need never fear disaster;He reaps the crop he sowed in hope, For Jack's as good's his master
"I was in a hooker once," said Karlssen,"And Bill, as was a seaman, died,So we lashed him in an old tarpaulinAnd tumbled him across the side;And the fun of it was that all his gear wasDivided up among the crewBefore that blushing human error,Our crawling little captain, knew