%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The STORM, / Or the, Dangers of the Sea University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 05/04/2011 31100

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

T48701 CEase rude boreas bustring railer, / Lift ye landsmen all to me, Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 3: 401 The STORM, / Or the, Dangers of the Sea The STORM, Or the, Dangers of the Sea The STORM, Or the, Dangers of the Sea ?-?

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious types & sects royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic The New World travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgarities/ crass humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 5/4/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America alcohol catastrophe labor/ craft maritime Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 5/4/2011 12:07:48 PM XBallad Mellon, Gillian Created XML Version of Ballad 5/4/2011 12:07:48 PM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 12:07:48 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 12:07:48 PM Transcriptionist Two Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 12:07:48 PM Transcriptionist One Zusky, Catherine Transcription of ballad manuscript 1/18/2009 Bibliographer Meghan Fadel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 1/13/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/10/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/10/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/10/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
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CEase rude boreas blustring railer, List ye landsmen all to me, Mess-mates hear a Brother Sailor, Sing the dangers of the sea, From bounding billows, first in motion When the distant Whirlwinds rise, To the tempest troubled ocean, Where the seas contend with skies. Hark the Boatswa[i]n hearsly bawling. By topsail-sheets, and haulyards stand, Down top gallants quick be hawling, Down your stay-sails, hand boys, Now it freshens, set the braces, The top sail-sheets, now let go. Luff, boys luff, dont make wry faces. Up your top-sails nimbly clew. Now all you on, down beds sporting, Fondly lockd in beautys arms; Fresh enjoyments, wanton courting. Safe from all but loves alarms; Round us roars the tempest louder; Think what fears our minds enthrall, Harder yet, it yet blows harder, Now again the boatswain calls! The top-sail yards point to the wind boys, See all clear to reef each course, Let the foresheet go, dont mind boys. Tho the weather should be worse. Fo[r]e and aft the spritsail yard get, Reef the mizen, see all clear, Hands up, each preventer brace, set, Man the foreyard, cheer, lads, cheer Now the dreadful thunder roaring, Peal, on peal contending clash, On our heads fierce rain falls pouring In our eyes blue lightning flash One wide water all around us, All above us one black sky, Defferent deaths at once surround us Hark, what means that dreadfull cry. The foremasts gone! cries every tongue out, Oer the lee, twelve feet bove deck; A leak beneath the chest trees sprung out, Call all hands to clear the wreck. Quick the lanyards cut to pieces, Come my hearts be stout and bold; Plumb the well, the leak encreases, Four feet water in the hold. While oer the ship, wild waves are beating. We for wives, or children mourn; Alass, from hence theres no ret[r]eating. Alass, from hence theres no turn. Still the leak is gaining on us, Both chain, pumps are choakd below: Heavn have mercy here upon us For only that can save us now. Oer the lee beam is the land boys, Let the guns oer board be thrown. To the pump come evry hand boys: See our mizen mast is gone. The leak weve found, i[t] cant pour fast, Weve lightend her a foot or more Up and rigg a jury foremast, She rights, she rights, boys, wear off shore Now once more on joys were thinking Since kind fortune savd our lives; Come, the can boys, lets be drinking. To our sweet hearts and our wives, Fill it up about ship wheel it, Close to our lips a brimmer join. Wheres the tempest now, who feels it, Now, the dangers drown in wine.