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Being sunk, took, and burn'd
There's not many return'd,
How they far'd on our coast,
Let 'em sail home and boast,
When he hears how they speed,
It will strike him near dead,
But we'll have him to know,
That we'll still keep him low, He shall never, shall never, boys, conquer Great Britain.
Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, and J. Buck.
THE FAIR MAID'S CHOICE: OR, THE SEAMAN'S
Being a pleasant song made of a sailor,
By T. L.
To the tune of Shrewsbury for me.
[From Bag ford's Collection.]
As I through Sandwich town passed along,
I gave good attention unto her new ditty,
THE FAIR MAID'S SONG IN PRAISE OF A SEAMAN.
Come all you fair maidens in country and town,
The gallant brave seaman God bless him, I say,
Of all sorts of gallants so gaudy and fine,
For a seaman will venture his life and his blood,
He ventures for traffique upon the salt seas,
Amongst all your tradesmen and merchants so brave,
With a thievish miller I never will deal,
Likewise a pimping taylor, and a lowsie weaver,
Also the carpenter and the shoomaker,
For I love a seaman as I love my life,
And I'll tell why I love a seaman so dear,
If that I were worth a whole ship-load of gold,
Through fire and water I would go I swear,
Here's a health to my dear,come pledge me who please,
Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J. Clarke.
A COMMENDATION OF MARTIN FROBISHER.
From a contemporary manuscript, in the Ashmolean Library, at Oxford, No. 208. From a note in the same handwriting as the manuscript, the poem appears to have been written by John Kirkham.
Youe muses guid my quivering quille,
Caliope drawe neare,
And to my hestes give ear.
Your sacred hyd a wyll I crave,
My shiveringe sence to staye, Such hewt exploits I take in hand,
That men to me maye saye;
Thy ragged rims and rurall verse
Cannot ascend soe hye,
Which fleth the hiest skie.
Wher whirlinge sphers doe hit resound,
And dewshe stares contain, What thundringe tromps of goulden fame,
In azure aper so plaine.
Whose hewtie acts not heavens allon
Contented ar to have,
And silvan's eccoughes brave,
Do all resound, with tuned stringe
Of silver harmonye,
With flickering fame dothe flye.
A mertial knight adventuros,
Whose valure great was suche; That hazard hard and light estem'd,
His countrie to enriche.