" The Philistines are out, " cried Will, " we'll take no heed on't ;
Attacked, who's the man that will flinch from his gun ?
Should my head be blown off, I shall ne'er feel the need on't,
We'll fight when we can, when we can't, boys, we'll run.
But should I be popp'd off, you, my mates, left behind me,
Regard my last words, see ' em kindly obey'd,
Let no stone mark the spot, and, my friends, do you mind me,
Near the beach is the spot where Will Watch will be laid. "
In the haze of the night a bright flash now appearing, "
Oh ! oh !" cries Will Watch, " the Philistines bear down,
Bear a hand, my tight lads, ere we think about sheering,
One broadside pour in, should we swim, boys, or drown. "
Poor Will's yarn was spun out,
for a bullet next minute Laid him low on the deck,
and he never spoke more ;
His crew fought the brig while a shot remained in it,
Then sheer'd, and Will's hulk to his Susan they bore.
In the dead of the night his last wish was complied with,
To few known his grave, to few known his end :
He was borne to the earth by the crew that he died with,
He'd the tears of his Susan, the prayers of each friend.
By his grave wash the billows, the winds loudly bellow,
Yon ash struck by lightning points out the cold bed
Where Will Watch, the Bold Smuggler, that fam'd lawless fellow,
Once fear'd, now forgot, sleeps in peace with the dead.
The foregoing " old song " faithfully portrays a smuggler's career ; always bold, always in danger, the smuggler leads a life which too often ends as so pitiably described in the above song. Happily there are no Will Watches in the present day, and I think we may venture to hope that in England there never will be.
