The Sentimental Songster/Heaving the Lead
HEAVING 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 seaman sprung,
And to the pilot cheerly sung,
“By the deep—Nine!”
But bearing up to gain the port,
Some well-known object kept in view—
An abbey-tow’r, an harbour-fort,
Or beacon, to the vessel true;
While oft the lead the seaman flung,
And to the pilot cheerly sung,
“By the mark—Seven!”
And as the much-lov’d shore we near,
With transports we behold the roof
Where dwells a friend or partner dear,
Of faith and love a matchless proof:
The lead once more the seaman flung,
And to the watchful pilot sung,
“Quarterless—Five!"
Now to her berth the ship draws nigh,
With slacken’d sail she feels the tide;
Stand clear the cable! is the cry—
The anchor’s gone, we safely ride,
The watch is set, and thro’ the night,
We hear the seamen with delight,
“Proclaim—All's well."