Neptunes raging fury, or, The gallant sea-mens sufferings. Being a relation of their perils and dangers, and of the extraordinary hazards they undergo in their noble adventures. Together with their undaunted valor, and rare constancy, in all their extremities. And the manner of their rejoycing on shore at their return home. To the tune of, When the stormy windes doe blow. / By J.P.
         J. P.
      
       
         This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B04898 of text R181454 in the  English Short Title Catalog (Wing P441F). Textual changes  and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more  computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life.  The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with  MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish.  This text has not been fully proofread 
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         EarlyPrint Project
         Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO
         2017
         B04898
         Wing P441F
         ESTC R181454
         47012566
         ocm 47012566
         174533
         
           
            This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of
             Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal
            . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
          
        
      
       
         Early English books online.
      
       
         (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B04898)
         Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 174533)
         Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English Books, 1641-1700 ; 2691:18)
      
       
         
           
             Neptunes raging fury, or, The gallant sea-mens sufferings. Being a relation of their perils and dangers, and of the extraordinary hazards they undergo in their noble adventures. Together with their undaunted valor, and rare constancy, in all their extremities. And the manner of their rejoycing on shore at their return home. To the tune of, When the stormy windes doe blow. / By J.P.
             J. P.
          
           1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill.
           
             Printed by T. Mabb, for Ric. Burton ...,
             London, :
             [between 1650 and 1665]
          
           
             Contains 3 illustrations.
             Date of publication suggested by Wing (2nd ed.)
             Right half-sheet contains: The second part, to the same tune.
             Reproduction of original in: University of Glasgow. Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
         eng
      
       
         
           Ballads, English -- 17th century.
           Sailors -- Great Britain -- Poetry.
           Broadsides -- England -- 17th century.
        
      
    
       B04898  R181454  (Wing P441F).  civilwar no Neptune's raging fury, or, The gallant sea-mens sufferings. Being a relation of their perils and dangers, and of the extraordinary hazards t [Parker, Martin] 1650    821 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text  has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription.  
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        2008-10 Mona Logarbo
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           Neptunes
           raging
           fury
           ,
           OR
           ,
           The
           Gallant
           Sea-mens
           Sufferings
           .
        
         
           
             Being
             a
             Relation
             of
             their
             Perils
             and
             Dangers
             ,
             and
             of
             the
             extraordinary
             hazards
             they
             undergo
             in
             their
             Noble
             Adventures
             .
          
           
             
               Together
               with
               their
               undaunted
               valour
               ,
               and
               rare
               constancy
               ,
               in
               all
               their
               extremities
               .
            
             And
             the
             manner
             of
             their
             rejoycing
             on
             Shore
             at
             their
             return
             home
             .
          
        
         
           To
           the
           Tune
           of
           ,
           
             When
             the
             Stormy
             Windes
             doe
             blow
             .
          
        
         
           By
           
             J.P.
             
          
        
         
           
             
          
           
             
          
           
             
               YOu
               Gentle
               men
               of
               
                 England
              
            
             
               That
               lives
               at
               home
               at
               ease
               ,
            
             
               Full
               litle
               doe
               you
               think
               upon
            
             
               The
               dangers
               of
               the
               Seas
               ;
            
             
               Give
               ear
               unto
               the
               Marriners
               ,
            
             
               And
               they
               will
               plainly
               show
               ,
            
             
               The
               cares
               and
               the
               feares
               ,
            
             
               
                 
                   When
                   the
                   stormy
                   windes
                   doe
                   blow
                   .
                
              
            
          
           
             
               All
               you
               that
               will
               be
               Sea-men
               ,
            
             
               Must
               bear
               a
               valiant
               heart
               ,
            
             
               For
               when
               you
               come
               upon
               the
               Seas
            
             
               You
               must
               not
               think
               to
               start
               ;
            
             
               Nor
               once
               to
               be
               faint
               hearted
            
             
               In
               Haile
               ,
               Rain
               nor
               Snow
               ;
            
             
               Nor
               to
               shriek
               ,
               nor
               to
               shrink
               ,
            
             
               
                 When
                 the
                 stormy
                 winds
                 doe
                 blow
                 ,
              
            
             
               
                 The
                 bitter
                 storms
                 and
                 Tempests
              
               
                 Poore
                 Sea-men
                 must
                 endure
                 ,
              
               
                 Both
                 day
                 &
                 night
                 ,
                 with
                 many
                 a
                 fright
              
               
                 We
                 seldome
                 rest
                 secure
                 :
              
               
                 Our
                 sléep
                 it
                 is
                 disturbed
                 ,
              
               
                 With
                 visions
                 strange
                 to
                 know
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 with
                 dreams
                 on
                 the
                 streams
                 ,
              
               
                 
                   
                     When
                     the
                     stormy
                     winds
                     doe
                     blow
                     .
                  
                
              
            
             
               
                 In
                 Claps
                 of
                 roring
                 thunder
                 ,
              
               
                 Which
                 darknesse
                 doth
                 enforce
                 ,
              
               
                 We
                 often
                 finde
                 our
                 ships
                 to
                 stray
              
               
                 Beyond
                 our
                 wonted
                 course
                 ,
              
               
                 Which
                 causeth
                 great
                 distractions
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 sincks
                 our
                 hearts
                 full
                 low
                 ;
              
               
                 T
                 is
                 in
                 vain
                 to
                 complain
              
               
                 
                   
                     When
                     the
                     stormy
                     winds
                     do
                     blow
                     .
                  
                
              
            
             
               
                 Sometimes
                 in
                 
                   Neptunes
                
                 bosome
                 ,
              
               
                 Our
                 ships
                 is
                 tost
                 with
                 waves
                 ;
              
               
                 And
                 every
                 man
                 expecting
              
               
                 The
                 Sea
                 to
                 be
                 their
                 Graves
                 .
              
               
                 Then
                 up
                 aloft
                 she
                 mounteth
                 ,
              
               
                 And
                 down
                 again
                 so
                 low
                 :
              
               
                 T
                 is
                 with
                 Waves
                 ,
                 O
                 with
                 Waves
                 !
              
               
                 
                   
                     When
                     the
                     stormy
                     winds
                     doe
                     blow
                     .
                  
                
              
            
             
               Then
               down
               we
               fall
               to
               prayers
               ,
            
             
               With
               all
               our
               might
               and
               thought
            
             
               When
               refuge
               all
               doth
               faile
               us
               ,
            
             
               T
               is
               that
               must
               bear
               us
               out
               :
            
             
               To
               God
               we
               call
               for
               succour
               ,
            
             
               For
               he
               it
               is
               we
               know
            
             
               That
               must
               aid
               us
               ,
               and
               save
               us
            
             
               
                 
                   When
                   stormy
                   windes
                   doe
                   blow
                   .
                
              
            
          
        
         
           
             The
             Second
             Part
             ,
          
           
             to
             the
             same
             Tune
             .
          
           
             
          
           
             
               THe
               Lawyer
               and
               the
               Usurer
               ,
            
             
               That
               sits
               in
               Gowns
               of
               Firr
               ,
            
             
               In
               Closets
               warm
               ,
               can
               take
               no
               harm
               ,
            
             
               Abroad
               they
               need
               not
               stirre
               ,
            
             
               When
               winter
               fierce
               with
               cold
               doth
               pierce
            
             
               And
               beats
               with
               Haile
               and
               Snow
               ,
            
             
               We
               are
               sure
               to
               endure
               ,
            
             
               
                 
                   When
                   the
                   stormy
                   windes
                   doe
                   blow
                   .
                
              
            
          
           
             
               We
               bring
               home
               costly
               Merchandize
            
             
               And
               Iewels
               of
               great
               price
               ,
            
             
               To
               serve
               our
               English
               Gallantrie
               ,
            
             
               With
               many
               a
               rare
               device
               ,
            
             
               To
               please
               the
               Noble
               Gentry
            
             
               Our
               pains
               we
               freely
               show
               ,
            
             
               For
               we
               toyle
               ,
               and
               we
               moyle
               ,
            
             
               
                 
                   When
                   the
                   stormy
                   windes
                   doe
                   blow
                   .
                
              
            
          
           
             
               We
               sometimes
               saile
               to
               th'
               
                 Indies
                 ,
              
            
             
               to
               fetch
               home
               Spices
               rare
               :
            
             
               Sometimes
               again
               ,
               to
               
                 France
                 &
                 Spain
              
            
             
               For
               wines
               beyond
               compare
               ,
            
             
               Whilest
               Gallants
               are
               carousing
            
             
               In
               Taverns
               on
               a
               row
               ;
            
             
               Then
               we
               sweep
               o're
               the
               deep
               ,
            
             
               
                 
                   When
                   the
                   stormy
                   windes
                   do
                   blow
                   .
                
              
            
          
           
             
               When
               Tempests
               are
               blown
               over
            
             
               And
               greatest
               fears
               are
               past
               ;
            
             
               In
               weather
               faire
               ,
               and
               temperate
               aire
            
             
               We
               straight
               lye
               down
               to
               rest
               ;
            
             
               But
               when
               the
               Billows
               tumble
               ,
            
             
               And
               waves
               doe
               furious
               grow
               :
            
             
               Then
               we
               rowse
               ,
               up
               we
               rowse
               ,
            
             
               
                 
                   When
                   the
                   stormy
                   windes
                   doe
                   blow
                   .
                
              
            
          
           
             
               If
               Enemies
               oppose
               us
               ,
            
             
               When
               
                 England
              
               is
               at
               Wars
            
             
               With
               any
               forreign
               Nations
            
             
               We
               fear
               not
               wounds
               and
               Scars
               :
            
             
               Our
               roring
               Guns
               shall
               teach
               them
            
             
               Our
               valour
               for
               to
               know
               ,
            
             
               Whilest
               they
               reele
               ,
               in
               the
               Keele
               ,
            
             
               
                 
                   When
                   the
                   stormy
                   winds
                   doe
                   blow
                   .
                
              
            
          
           
             
               We
               are
               no
               Cowardly
               shrinkers
               ,
            
             
               But
               
                 English-men
              
               true
               bred
            
             
               We
               'le
               play
               our
               parts
               ,
               like
               valiant
               hearts
            
             
               And
               never
               fly
               for
               dread
               :
            
             
               We
               'le
               ply
               our
               busines
               nimbly
            
             
               When
               ere
               we
               come
               or
               go
               ,
            
             
               With
               our
               mates
               ,
               to
               the
               straits
               ,
            
             
               
                 
                   When
                   the
                   stormy
                   winds
                   doe
                   blow
                   .
                
              
            
          
           
             
               Then
               Courage
               all
               brave
               Marriners
               ,
            
             
               And
               never
               be
               dismaid
               ,
            
             
               Whilest
               we
               have
               bold
               Adventurers
            
             
               We
               ne're
               shall
               want
               a
               trade
               :
            
             
               Our
               Merchants
               will
               imploy
               us
               ,
            
             
               To
               fetch
               them
               wealth
               I
               know
               :
            
             
               Then
               to
               be
               bold
               ,
               work
               for
               Gold
               ,
            
             
               
                 
                   When
                   the
                   stormy
                   winds
                   doe
                   blow
                   ,
                
              
            
          
           
             
               When
               we
               return
               in
               safety
               ,
            
             
               With
               wages
               for
               our
               pains
               :
            
             
               The
               Tapster
               and
               the
               Vintener
            
             
               Will
               help
               to
               share
               our
               gains
               :
            
             
               Wee
               'le
               call
               for
               liquor
               roundly
               ,
            
             
               And
               pay
               before
               we
               goe
               ;
            
             
               Then
               we
               'le
               rore
               ,
               on
               the
               shore
               ,
            
             
               
                 
                   When
                   the
                   stormy
                   windes
                   doe
                   blow
                   .
                
              
            
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
      
    
     
       
         
           London
           ,
           
             Printed
             by
          
           T.
           Mabb
           ,
           
             for
          
           Ric.
           Burton
           ,
           
             at
             the
          
           Horse-shoe
           
             in
          
           Smith-field