This page has been validated.
THE HEAVING OF THE LEAD.
For England, when with fav'ring gale,
Our gallant ship up channel steer'd,
And scudding under easy sail,
The high blue western land appear'd;
To heave the lead the seamen sprung,
And to the pilot cheerly sung,
By the deep nine!
And bearing up to gain the port,
Some well-known object kept in view,
An abbey tow'r, a harbour fort,
Or beacon to the vessel true;
While off the lead the seamen flung,
And to the pilot cheerly sung,
By the mark seven!
And, as the much lov'd shore we near,
With transport we behold the roof,
Where dwells a friend, or partner dear,
Of faith and love a matchless proof;
The lead once more the seamen flung,
And to the watchful pilot sung,
Quarter less five!
