The Boatswain's Call ; or, the Couragious Marriner's Invitation

Stout seamen, come away, never be daunted ;
For if at home you stay, then is it granted
The fleet can never be mann'd for the ocean,
To fight the enemy and gain promotion.

Lewis, that Christian Turk, makes preparation;
His engines are at work in consultation ,
Thinking to ruin quite all Christian princes ;
But we their wrongs will right, at life's expences.

The mighty force of France we never value;
For when we once advance we will not dally,
But on the ocean wide (through blest permission)
We'll soon subdue their pride and grand ambition.

Therefore with courage bold, boys, let us venture;
Like noble hearts of gold now freely enter
Your names on board the fleet, all friends forsaking,
That we may soon compleat this undertaking.

Is it not that the land might be defended
By a victorious hand ? tho' France intended
To lay a heavy yoke on a free nation,
Boys, let a fatal stroke prove their vexation !

But yet methinks I hear some cowards crying,
The press they dread and fear as much as dying,
And sculk, like frighted slaves, here in distraction,
To hide in dens and caves from warlike action.

Yet some declare they'd fight, but a dear mother,
Who counts him her delight above all other,
She loves him as her life ; parting would grieve her :
Another has a wife, he's loath to leave her.

Thus cowards they can find excuses many
To tarry here behind; yet there's not any
Right valiant noble soul heeds a relation,
He'll fight against controul for this his nation.

Has not men wish'd and cry'd, ' A war with France !' boys,
That on the ocean wide we may advance, boys ?
To storm and shake their throne, no danger fearing:
This still has been their tone oft in my hearing.

Where are those heroes now, those sons of thunder,
That would make Lewis bow and bring him under ?
Your wishes now you have, France is the center ;
Like seamen stout and brave, boys, freely venture !

In a fight fierce and hot once was I wounded ;
We receiv'd showrs of shot, being surrounded;
Yet I again will go, and scorn to hide me;
I'll face the daring foe, what e'er betide me.

He that has been in fight fears not another ;
He leaves with much delight father and mother,
To embrace those true joys which men admire;
We can be merry, boys, in smoak and fire.

If we the conquest gain, that brings promotion ;
If we by chance are slain, then the wide ocean
Shall be our watry tomb, near Neptune's palace.
This, boys, shall be our doom, in spite of malice.