6
THE TEMPEST.
CEASE, rude boreas, bluſt‘ring railer-
Liſt ye landſmen all to me;
Meſſmates hear a brother ſailor,
ſing the dangers of the ſea.
From Lounding billows firſt in motion,
when the diſtant whirlwinds riſe;
To the tempeſt troubled ocean,
where the ſeas contend with ſkies.
Hark, the boatſwain hoarſely bawling,
by top-ſail ſheets and haul-yards, ſtand;
Down top-gallants--quick-be hauling,
down your ſtay ſails, hand boys hand.
Now it freſhens, ſet the braces,
the lee-top-fail-ſheets let go;
Luff, boys luff, dont make wry faces,
up your top-ſails nimbly clue.
Now, all you on down-beds ſporting,
fondly lock‘d in beauty‘s arms;
Freſh enjoyment, wanton courting,
ſafe from all but love‘s alarms:
Round us roars the tempeſt louder,
think what fears our minds enthral;
Harder yet, it ſtill blows harder,
hark, again the boatſwain‘s call.
