Come, come, what doe I here,
Since he is gone
Each day is grown a dozen year,
And each houre, one;
Come, come!
Cut off the sum,
By these soil'd teares!
(Which only thou
Know'st to be true,)
Dayes are my feares.

Ther's not a wind can stir,
Or beam passe by,
But strait I think (though far,)
Thy hand is nigh;
Come, come!
Strike these lips dumb:
This restles breath
That soiles thy name,
Will ne'r be tame
Until in death.

Perhaps some think a tombe
No house of store,

Come cheer up my lads, 'tis to glory we steer,
To add something more to this wonderful year.
To honour we call you, not press you like slaves,
For who are so free as we sons of the waves?
Chorus

Heart of oak are our ships, heart of oak are our men;
We always are ready--steady, boys, steady--
We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.

We ne'er see our foes but we wish 'em to stay.
They never see us but they wish us away.
If they run, why, we follow and run 'em ashore,
For if they won't fight us, we cannot do more.

Come, cheer up, my lads, like a true British band,
In the cause of our country who join heart and hand;
Fair Freedom invites — she cries out, " Agree!
And be steadfast for those that are steadfast for me. "
Hearts of oak are we all, hearts of oak we'll remain:
We always are ready —
Steady, boys, steady —
To give them our voices again and again.

With the brave sons of Freedom, of every degree,
Unite all the good — and united are we:
But still be the lot of the villains disgrace,
Whose foul, rotten hearts give the lie to their face.

Come , Celia, let's agree at last
— To love and live in quiet;
Let's tie the knot so very fast
— That time shall ne'er untie it.
Love's dearest joys they never prove,
— Who free from quarrels live;
'Tis sure a godlike part of love
— Each other to forgive.

When least I seemed concerned I took
— No pleasure, nor had rest;
And when I feigned an angry look,
— Alas! I loved you best.
Say but the same to me, you'll find
— How blest will be our fate;
Sure to be grateful, to be kind,
— Can never be too late.

Come , Captain Age,
With your great sea-chest full of treasure!
Under the yellow and wrinkled tarpaulin
Disclose the carved ivory
And the sandalwood inlaid with pearl;
Riches of wisdom and years.
Unfold the India shawl
With its border of emerald and orange and crimson and blue
Weave of a lifetime!
I shall be rich and splendid
With the spoils of the Indies of Age.

Come, Brother, turn with me from pining thought
And all the inward ills that sin has wrought;
Come, send abroad a love for all who live,
And feel the deep content in turn they give.
Kind wishes and good deeds, — they make not poor;
They'll home again, full laden, to thy door;
The streams of love flow back where they begin,
For springs of outward joys lie deep within.

Even let them flow, and make the places glad
Where dwell thy fellow-men. Shouldst thou be sad,
And earth seem bare, and hours, once happy, press

He that loves Sack doth nothing lack,
If he but Loyal be;
He that deny's Bacchus' supplyes,
Shows meer Hypocrisie.

Come Boyes, fill us a Bumper, we'l make the Nation roare.
She's grown sick of a Rumper that sticks on the old score.
Pox on Phanaticks, rout 'um, they thirst for our blood;
We'l Taxes raise without 'um, and drink for the Nation's good.
Fill the Pottles and Gallons, and bring the Hogshead in,

Come back to me! my life is young,
My soul is scarcely on her way,
And all the starry songs she's sung,
Are prelude to a grander lay.
Come back to me!

Let this song-born soul receive thee,
Glowing its fondest truth to prove;
Why so early did'st thou leave me,
Are our heaven-grand life of love?
Come back to me!

My burning lips shall set their seal
On our betrothal bond to-night,
While whispering murmurs will reveal
How souls can love in God's own light.
Come back to me!

Come back to me! The stars will be

Come and see the chimney-pots, etched against the light!
Half-a-moon of gold above the lovely-phantomed night;
Half-a-silver-moon below, underneath a span,
Mirrored in the vaulted dark, like a jewelled fan.

Dust in dormer window-ledge, age in bolted door,
Roof-tops leaping from the dark, jumbled towards the shore;
Beauty in the shadow-lanes, like an April pain,
Hanging in the hearts of trees, lyric with the rain.

Yellow lines across the black, shimmering and pale,
Falling from the bridges' lights, undulating, frail.

" Come and see! Come and see! "
The thrush pipes out of the hawthorn tree:
And I and Dicky on tiptoe go
To see what treasures he wants to show.
His call is clear as a call can be —
And " Come and see! " he says:
" Come and see! "

" Come and see! Come and see! "
His house is there in the hawthorn-tree:
The neatest house that ever you saw,
Built all of mosses and twigs and straw:
The folk who built were his wife and he —
And " Come and see! " he says:
" Come and see! "

" Come and see! Come and see! "