Saylors for My Money by Martin Parker

A new Ditty composed in the praise of Saylors and Sea affaires, breifly shewing the nature of so worthy a calling, and effects of their industry.

To the tune of the Joviall Cobler.

Countrie men of England,
who live at home with ease:
And litle thinke what dangers,
Are incident o’th Seas:
Give eare unto the Saylor
Who unto you will shew:
His case,
His case:
How ere the winde doth blow.

He that is a Saylor
Must have a valiant heart:
For when he is upon the sea,
He is not like to start:
But must with noble courage,
All dangers undergoe.
Resolve,
Resolve:
How ere the wind doth blow.

Our calling is laborious,
And subject to much woe:
But we must still contented be:
With what falls to our share.
Wee must not be faint hearted▪
Come tempest raine or snow:
Nor shrinke:
Nor shrinke:
How ere the winde doth blowe.

Sometimes one Neptunes bosome
Our ship is tost with waves
And every minite we expect,
The sea must be our graves
Somtimes on high she mounteth
Then falls againe as low:
with waves:
with waves:
When stormie winds do blow.

Then with unfained prayers,
As Christian duty bindes,
Wée turne unto ye Lord of hosts,
With all our hearts and minds,
To him we flée for succour,
For he we surely know,
can save:
can save,
How ere the wind doth blow.

Then he who breaks the rage:
The rough and blustrous seas
When his disciples were afraid
Will straght ye stormes apease.
And give us cause to thanke
On bended knees full low:
who saves:
who saves,
How ere the wind doth blow.

Our enemies approaching,
When wée on sea espie,
Wée must resolve incontinent
To fight, although we die,
With noble resolution
Wee must oppose our foe,
in fight,
in fight:
How ere the wind doe blow.

And when by Gods assistance,
Our foes are put to’th foile,
To animate our courages,
Wée all have share o’th spoile,
Our foes into the Ocean,
Wee back to back do throw,
to sinke,
or swimme,
How ere the wind doth blow.

The Second part.
To the same tune.

Thus wée gallant seamen,
In midst of greatest dangers,
Doe alwaies prove our valour,
Wée never are no changers:
But what soe ere betide us,
Wée stoutly undergoe,
resolv’d,
resolv’d,
How ere the wind doth blow.

If fortune doe befriend us.
In what we take in hand,
Wée proue our selves still generous
When ere we come to land,
Ther’s few that shall out brave us
Though neere so great in show,
wée spend
and lend,
How ere the wind doth blow.

We travell to the Indies,
From them we bring som spice
Here we buy rich Marchandise
At very little prize;
And many wealthy prises,
We conquer from the foe:
In fight:
In fight,
How ere the wind doth blow.

Into our native Country,
With wealth we doe returne:
And cheere our wives and children,
Who for our absence mourne.
Then doe we bravely flourish,
And where so ere we goe:
We roare:
We roare:
How ere the wind doth blow.

For when we have received
Our wages for our paynes:
The Vintners and the Tapsters
By us have golden gaines.
We call for liquor roundly,
And pay before we goe:
and sing:
and drinke,
How ere the wind doth blow.

Wée bravely are respected,
When we walke up and downe,
For if wée méete good company,
Wée care not for a crowne,
Ther’s none more frée then saylors
Where ere he come or goe,
th’elle roare
o’th shore,
How ere the wind doth blow.

Then who would live in England
And norish vice with ease,
When hée that is in povertie,
May riches get o’th seas:
Lets saile unto the Indies,
Where golden grasse doth grow
to sea,
to sea,
How ere the wind doth blow.

From: http://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/eebo/A08979.0001.001?rgn=main;view=fulltext;q1=Sailors+–+Poetry

Date: ?1630

By: Martin Parker (c1600-c1656)

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