Classic Poem

When 'tis night, and the mid-watch is come,
And chilling mists hang o'er the darken'd main,
Then sailors think of their far distant home,
And of those friends they ne'er may see again:
But when the fight's begun,
Each serving at his gun,
Should any thought of them come o'er our mind,
We think but, should the day be won,
How 'twill chear their hearts to hear
That their old companion he was one.

Or, my lad, if you a mistress kind
Have left on shore, some pretty girl and true,
Who many a night doth listen to the wind,
And wakes to think how it may fare with you;
O! when the fight's begun,
Each serving at his gun,
Should any thought of her come o'er your mind,
Think only, should the day be won,
How 'twill chear her heart to hear
That her own true sailor he was one.