127 )
The what's-their-namesat uproar f quail,
With mufic fine :md foft, But better founds our bontfxvain's call,
All hands, all hands aloft.
And a failing, &cv
With gold and filver ftreamlets fine
The ladies rigging fliew, But Engliih mips nx>re grandeur fliine,
When prizes home we tow.
And a failing, &c.
What's got at fea we fpend on wore,
With fweethearts or our wiv And then, my boys, hoift fail for more,
Thus pafs the failurs' lives.
And a failing, ;c
��THE INSULTED SAILOR.
'HEN my money was gone that I gain'd in. the
wars,
And the world 'gan to frown at my fate, What matter'd my zeal, or my honour'd fears, When indifference flood at each gate ?
The face that would fmile when my purfe was well
lin'd,
Shew'd a different afpec"l to me ; And when I could nought but ingratitude find, I liicd once again to the fea.
I thought
�� �
