DAVIDSON'S

COMPLETE COLLECTION

OF

THE SONGS, SCENAS, &c.

OF

HENRY RUSSELL.

INCLUDING

B

HIS CELEBRATED NEGRO SONGS.

The only authorized Edition.

LONDON:

DAVIDSON, PETER'S HILL, DOCTORS' COMMONS,

ON THE SOUTH SIDE OF ST. Paul's.

SONGS, &c.

I'M AFLOAT! I'M AFLOAT!

Poetry by Eliza Cook.-Music by Henry Russell.

I'm afloat! I'm afloat on the fierce rolling tide,-
The ocean's my home, and my bark is my bride;
Up, up with my flag, let it wave o'er the sea-→→→
I'm afloat! I'm afloat! and the Rover is free!
I fear not the monarch, I heed not the law-
I've a compass to steer by, a dagger to draw;
And ne'er as a coward or slave will I kneel,
While my guns carry shot, or my belt bears a steel!
Quick, quick, trim her sails, let the sheets kiss the
wind,

And I warrant we'll soon leave the seagulls behind ;
Up, up with my flag, let it wave o'er the sea-
I'm afloat! I'm afloat! and the Rover is free!

The night gathers o'er us, the thunder is heard;
What matter? our vessel skims on like a bird:
What to her is the dash of the storm-ridden main ?
She has brav'd it before, and will brave it again.
The fire-gleaming flashes around us may fall, [pal;
They may strike, they may cleave, but they cannot ap-
With lightnings above us, and darkness below,
Through the wild waste of waters right onward wego.
Hurrah! my brave comrades, ye may drink-ye
may sleep,-

The storm-fiend is hush'd-we're alone on the deep;
Our flag of defiance still waves o'er the sea,—
I'm afloat! I'm afloat! and the Rover is free!

THE SLAVE SHIP.

Poetry and Music by Henry Russell.

The French ship Le Rodeur, with a crew of twenty-two men, and with one hundred and sixty negro slaves, sailed from Bonny, in Africa, April, 1819. On approaching the Line, a terrible malady broke out-an obstinate disease of the eyes-contagious, and altogether beyond the resources of medicine. It was aggravated by the scarcity of water among the slaves (only half a wine-glassful per day being allowed to an individual), and by the impurity of the air which they breathed. By the advice of a physician, they were brought upon deck occasionally; but some of the poor wretches, locking themselves in each other's arms, leaped overboard, in the hope,which so universally prevails among them, of being swiftly transported to their own homes in Africa. To check this, the captain ordered several, who were stopped in the attempt, to be shot or hanged, before their companions. The disease extended to the crew; and one after another were smitten with it, until only one remained unaffected. Yet even this dreadful condition did not preclude calculation: to save the expense of supporting slaves rendered unsaleable, and to obtain grounds for a claim against the underwriters, THIRTY-SIX OF THE NEGROES, HAVING BECOME BLIND, WERE THROWN INTO THE SEA AND DROWNED!

In the midst of their dreadful fears lest the solitary individual, whose sight remained unaffected, should also be seized with the malady, a sail was discovered. It was a Spanish slaver, the Leon. The same disease had been there; and, horrible to tell, all the crew had become blind! Unable to assist each other, the vessels parted. The Spanish ship has never since been heard of. The Rodeur reached Guadaloupe on the 21st of June: the only man who escaped the disease, and had thus been enabled to steer the slaver into port, caught it three days after its arrival.'-Speech of M. Benjamin Constant, in the French Chamber of Deputies, June 17, 1820.

THE first gray dawn of the morning was beaming:
The bright rays shone forth, the glad spirit of light;
The rising sun over the ocean was streaming,
And dispell'd with his rays the dark shadows of
night.

The air-oh! how pure! and the morning was mild,
And the waters lay hush'd like a sleeping child :-

:

"What cheer?' cried the mate, as he paced to and fro: 'What cheer? art thou watching? is all right below?' 'All's right!' cried a voice, the hatches are tight As the chains that are binding the slaves this night.'

Up, up with the flag, then! let us away;
Spread the sails, 'tis a favouring wind;
And, long ere the break of the morning, we'll leave
The coast of old Afric' behind.

The moonlight will follow our track o'er the deep,
As we start through the sparkling wave,
For our cargo of beings are all hush'd in sleep,
As though they were hush'd in the grave.
Then up with the anchor, and let us away,
We dare not, we must not, now longer delay!'
Gloomily stood the captain,

With his arms upon his breast,
With his cold brow sternly knitted,
And iron lip compress'd:-

Are all well whipp'd below there?'
· Ay, ay,' the seaman said.

Heave up the worthless lubbers-
The dying and the dead.'

Help! oh, help! thou God of Christians!
Save a mother from despair!

Cruel white man stole my children—

Oh! God of Christians, hear my prayer!

I'm young, and strong, and hardy;

He's a sick and feeble boy:

Take me, whip me, chain me, starve me!
Oh, God! in mercy save my boy!

'They've killed my child! they've killed my child; The mother shrieked.-Now all is o'er: Down the savage captain struck her,

Lifeless on the vessel's floor.

Shall outraged nature cease to feel?
Shall mercy's tears no longer flow?