The English Spy, page 478 by Bernard Blackmantle
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s of those they are parted from for ever. On the beach this morning I witnessed a most distressing scene: wives separated by force from their husbands, and children torn from the fond embraces of parents whose parting sighs were all they could yield them on this side the grave. 'Push off the boat, and, officer, see that no women are permitted on board,' said the superintending lieutenant of the depot, with a voice and manner hard and unfeeling as the iron oracle of authority. My heart sickened at the sight, and the thrilling scream of a widowed wife, as she fell senseless on the causeway, created an impression that my pitying Muse could not resist recording.
'THE SOLDIER'S WIPE.
'There's a pang which no pencil nor pen can express, A heart-broken sigh which despondency breathes, When the soul, overcharged with oppressive distress, Of the tear of relief the sad bosom bereaves. 'Twas thus on the shore, like a statue of grief, The wife of the soldier her babe fondly press'd; Not a word could she utter, no tear gave relief, But sorrow convulsively heaved her soft breast. Now nearer she presses--now severed for life The waves bear the lord of her bosom from view; Distraction suspends the red current of life, And she sinks on the beach as he sighs out adieu.'"
"Zounds, old fellow, how sentimental you are growing!" said Horace: "you must read these pathetic pieces to the marines; they will never do for the sailors. Here, steward, bear a hand, muster the crew aft, and let us have a tune, Jack's Alive, Malbrook, or the College Hornpipe;" an order that was quickly carried into execution, as most of the ~162~~men on board I found played some wind instrument, the effect of which upon the stillness of the water was enchantingly sweet. During the occasional rests of the band, Horace sung one of those delightful melodies, written in imitation of Moore, for which he was celebrated when a boy at Eton.
THE EVENING TIDE.
Tune--" The Young May Moon." Whit