And here is a master excelleth in skill, And our master's mate he is not to seek; And here is a boatswain will do his good will, And here is a ship, boy, we never had leak. Lustily, lustily, &c. а If fortune then fail not, and our next voyage prove, We will return merrily, and make good cheer, Lustily, lustily, &c. THE MARINER'S GLEE. From "Deuteromelia ; or, the Second Part of Musick's Melodie," &c., 1609. WE be three poor mariners While others live at ease. Shall we go dance the round? Come pledge me on this ground. We care not for those martial men That do our states disdain ; That do our states maintain. To them we dance this round; Come pledge me on this ground. * A bully does not here mean a braggart, but a jolly fellow-one fond of fun and frolic " What sayest thou, bully Bottom ?"-Midsummer's Night Dream, YE GENTLEMEN OF ENGLAND. MARTIN PARKER. The music by DR. CALCOTT. YE gentlemen of England That live at home at ease, you upon And they will plainly shew When the stormy, &c. No danger he must shun, kind of weather How dreadful 'tis below, When the stormy, &c. When England is at War We fear not wound or scar ; Our valour for to know, And the stormy, &c. And never be dismay'd; We ne'er shall want a trade : To fetch them wealth, we know; When the stormy, &c. There are several versions of this song. The original and apparently the most ancient, is given with the old melody in Chappell's “ Popular Music of the Olden Time;" Part VII., 293. The original ballad, in black letter, is in the Pepys collection, where it is entitled, Saylers for my money--a new ditty composed in the praise of Saylers and Sea Affaires, &c.' TO ALL YOU LADIES NOW ON LAND. The EARL OF DORSET, born 1637, died 1706.* To all you ladies now on land, We men at sea indite; How hard it is to write : With a fa, la, la, la, la, For though the Muses should prove kind, And fill our empty brain; To wave the azure main, up With a fa, la, la, la, la. Then if we write not by each post, Think not we are unkind; By Dutchman or by wind : With a fa, la, la, la, la. The king, with wonder and surprise, Will swear the seas grow bold, Than e'er they did of old ; With a fa, la, la, la, la. * On the 2nd of January, 1665, Mr. Pepys went, by appointment, to dine with Lord Brouncker at his house in the Piazza, Covent Garden. He says: “I received much mirth with a ballad I brought with me, made from the seamen at sea to their ladies in town: saying Sir William Pen, Sir George Askue, and Sir George Lawson, made it." In 1665, Lord Buckhurst, afterwards Earl of Dorset, attended the Duke of York as a volunteer in the Dutch war, and was in the battle of June 3, when eighteen Dutch ships were taken, fourteen others were destroyed, and Opdam, the admiral, who engaged the duke, was blown up beside him, with all his crew. On the day before the battle, he is said to have composed the celebrated song, “To all you ladies now on land,” with equal tran. Should foggy Opdam chance to know, Our sad and dismal story, And quit their fort at Goree: With a fa, la, la, la, la Let wind and weather do its worst, Be ye to us but kind; No sorrow shall we find : With a fa, la, la, la, la. To pass our tedious hours away, We throw a merry main, But why should we in vain With a fa, la, la, la, la. But now our fears tempestuous grow, And cast our hopes away; Sit careless at a play, flirt fan. hand or When any mournful tune you hear, That dies in every note, As if it sigh’d with each man's care, For being so remote: quillity of mind and promptitude of wit. Seldom any splendid story is wholly true. I have heard from the late Earl of Orrery, who was likely to have had good hereditary intelligence, that Lord Buckhurst had been a week employed upon it, and only retouched or finished it on the memorable evening. But even this, whatever it may subtract from his facility, leaves him his courage.--JOHNSON's Lives of the Poets. This song has been set as a glee by Dr. Calcott; but is usually sung to an old English melody, of which the author is unknown, Then think how often love we've made With a fa, la, la, la, la. To think of our distress, Our certain happiness : love. With a fa, la, la, la, la. And likewise all our fears; Some pity for our tears ; With a fa, la, la, la, la. a 66 BLACK-EYED SUSAN. from an older melody. The streamers waving in the wind, Oh, where shall I my true-love find? Rock'd by the billows to and fro, below; My vows shall always true remain, We only part to meet again; heart shall be winds, my |