FullReads

JOHN:

But what are these dangers to those I have past
When the dark billows roar’d to the roar of the blast?
When we work’d at the pumps worn with labour and weak
And with dread still beheld the increase of the leak,
Sometimes as we rose on the wave could our sight
From the rocks of the shore catch the light-houses light;
In vain to the beach to assist us they press,
We fire faster and faster our guns of distress,
Still with rage unabating the wind and waves roar–
How the giddy wreck reels–as the billows burst o’er–
Leap–leap–for she yawns–for she sinks in the wave–
Call on God to preserve–for God only can save!

SAMUEL:

There’s an end of all troubles however at last!
And when I in the waggon of wounded was cast,
When my wounds with the chilly night-wind smarted sore
And I thought of the friends I should never see more,
No hand to relieve–scarce a morsel of bread–
Sick at heart I have envied the peace of the dead!
Left to rot in a jail till by treaty set free,
Old England’s white cliffs with what joy did I see!
I had gain’d enough glory, some wounds, but no good,
And was turn’d on the public to shift how I could.
When I think what I’ve suffer’d and where I am now
I curse him who snared me away from the plough.

JOHN:

When I was discharged I went home to my wife,
There in comfort to spend all the rest of my life.
My wife was industrious, we earn’d what we spent,
And tho’ little we had, were with little content;
And whenever I listen’d and heard the wind roar,
I bless’d God for my little snug cabin on shore.
At midnight they seiz’d me, they dragg’d me away,
They wounded me sore when I would not obey,
And because for my country I’d ventur’d my life,
I was dragg’d like a thief from my home and my wife.
Then the fair wind of Fortune chopp’d round in my face
And Want at length drove me to guilt and disgrace–
But all’s for the best;–on the world’s wide sea cast,
I am haven’d in peace in this corner at last.

SAMUEL:

Come Dick! we have done–and for judgment we call.

RICHARD:

And in faith I can give ye no judgment at all.
I’ve been listening to all the hard labours you’ve past
And think in plain troth, you’re two blockheads at last.
My lads where the Deuce was the wit which God gave ye
When you sold yourselves first to the army or navy?
By land and by sea hunting dangers to roam,
When you might have been hang’d so much easier at home!
But you’re now snug and settled and safe from foul weather,
So drink up your grog and be merry together.