The Stout and Loving Seamans Heart-
Tocken, to his Sweet and Lovely
ISABEL.
To be Sung with a Pleasant New Tune.
|
FAir Isabel of Beauty bright,
|
To thee in Love these lines I write,
|
Hoping thou art alive and well,
|
As I am now, as I am now,
|
Fair Isabel.
|
On Board on the Beauty bold,
|
I have the Fortune to behold,
|
The sweet delightsome banks of Spain,
|
While in the Straits, while in the Straits,
|
We do remain.
|
The Spanish Lords of high Renown,
|
And Gentre come swarming down,
|
To see the Brittish Royal Fleet,
|
With swelling Sails, with swelling Sails,
|
And Streams so sweet.
|
While we appeard in all our Pride,
|
The Seas was nere so beautifid
|
With Able Men of War before,
|
Along the Straits, along the Straits,
|
Of Spanish Shore,
|
We have no Storms, nor Weather foul,
|
To make the Roaring Billows Role,
|
But pleasant breathing, gentle-gales,
|
Enough to fill, enough to fill,
|
Our swelling Sales.
|
Along the Coast of Barbarie,
|
The Algereens they flot to see,
|
Our Royal Fleet of Noble Fame,
|
And stood amazd, and stood amazd,
|
To see the same.
|
The longer they the Fleet beheld,
|
The more they were with wonder fild,
|
As knowing we were Brittan bold,
|
And that the French, and that the French,
|
False Tales have told.
|
For Turvyl made the Turk believe
|
That they no dammage could receive,
|
For of a Truth he did declare,
|
That Masters of, that Masters of,
|
The Seas they were.
|
This will for Truth no longer go,
|
For Turvyl fears Great Russel so,
|
That from Toulon they steard away,
|
Had not forgot, had not forgot
|
the Month of May.
|
With Russel he is loath to deal,
|
For fear a second Warlike Real,
|
Should shake the whole foundation,
|
That it might prove, that it might prove
|
their overthrow.
|
Once more my Dear, and tender Dove,
|
Fair Isabel, and my Loyal Love,
|
Except of these few lines I send,
|
Who will remain, who will remain
|
Your Faithful Friend.
|
Tho we are separated now,
|
Ile not forget that Solemn Vow
|
Made, when I left my Native Land,
|
Ile go on board, Ile go on board,
|
under Command.
|
My Dearest do not grieve nor mourn,
|
With Patience wait my safe Return,
|
And then wele both united be,
|
In lasting Bonds, in lasting Bonds
|
Of Loalty.
|
The Figure of a Heart, I send,
|
And round the same these lines are pend
|
The Chain of Love has link it fast,
|
So long as Life, so song as Life
|
And Breath doth last.
|
|
|
|
|
|