IN THE NAME OF CHARLES DIBDIN!
A Lay for the Lifeboat Service.
[An urgent appeal is made on behalf of the Royal National Lifeboat Institution, which is declared to be "in dire financial straits," the deficit for last year being £33,000. Subscriptions and donations will be thankfully received by CHARLES DIBDIN, Esq., Secretary, R.N.L.I., 14, St. John Street, Adelphi, London, W.C.]
True "tuneful CHARLEY is no more,"
As DIBDIN's Monument informs us;
But memory of the man who bore
That honoured name still stirs and warms us.
And here's another of his name,
Who still the British Sailor's serving;
Then who could see without sore shame
JOHN BULL from his plain duty swerving?
Thirty-three Thousand to the bad,
Our Lifeboat Service, once our glory?
Nay, JOHN, that will not do, my lad;
Next year must tell a different story.
Think, what would "tuneful CHARLEY" say
To such a thing? In racy lingo,
Upon our backs his lash he'd lay,
And give the slothful Britons "stingo."
Thirty-five thousand lives they've saved,
Our Life-boat rescuers, already.
The seas around our shores they've braved,
With valour prompt and patience steady.
Shall they be floored for L.S.D.,
Because JOHN BULL his pockets buttons?
Then the old keepers of the Sea
Must be, in pluck, as dead as muttons.
True, lads, on such a text as this
"We sadly miss old CHARLEY's line;"
But were we mute, Neptune would hiss
His sons degenerate off the brine.
Old "CHARLEY" spins his yarns no more!
He's dead, as Scrooge declared old Marley.
What then? Wake up, from shore to shore,
And—send your guineas to Young CHARLEY!