FISH-HAWK, OR OSPREY 



When freezing tempests back to Greenland ride ; 

 And day and night the equal hours divide; 

 True to the season, o'er our sea-beat shore, 

 The sailing Osprey high is seen to soar 

 With broad unmoving wing; and, circling slow, 

 Marks each loose straggler in the deep below : 

 Sweeps down like lightning! plunges with a roar! 

 And bears his struggling victim to the shore. 



The long-hous'd fisherman beholds with joy, 

 The well known signals of his rough employ; 

 And, as he bears his nets and oars along. 

 Thus hails the welcome season with a song. 



THE FISHERMAN'S HYMN. 



The Osprey sails above the sound; 



The geese are gone — the gulls are flying; 

 The herring shoals swarm thick around, 



The nets are launched — the boats are plying; 

 Yo ho, my hearts ! let's seek the deep. 



Raise high the song, and cheerly wish her. 

 Still as the bending net we sweep, 



God bless the Fish-Hawk and the fisher!' 



She brings us fish — she brings us spring, 



Good times, fair weather, warmth and plenty, 

 Fine store of shad, trout, herring, ling, 



Sheepshead and drum, and old-wives dainty. 

 Yo ho, my hearts ! let's seek the deep. 

 Ply every oar, and cheerly wish her. 

 Still as the bending net we sweep, 



" God bless the Fish-Hawk and the fisher!" 



VOL. V. G 



