and the storm came on the weather and lee,
The hope that I with her, should be harbou’d,
was my cable and anchor;— Yo, yea
And now my boys, would you believe me?
I return’d with rhino from sea;
Mrs Polly would never receive me
so again I heav’d anchor!— Yo, yea.
Montelia’s Charms.
WHEN poets lavish all their store,
to paint a mistress gay;
They prove not how their souls adore
⟨but⟩ what their muse can say
Fame, the great object of their vows,
by varions names they woo;
And, while to beauty fancy bows,
their souls a breath pursue.
Me no such vain ambition moves———
ye bards, enjoy your fame!
My heart can simply say it loves,
and brave Montelia’s name
Montelia’s charms so far excel,
they make my soul their slave;
She’s more at least, than I can tell;
and all I wish to have!
Nan of Logie Green.
By pleasure long infected,
Kind heaven, when least expected,
My devious path directed
to Nan of Logie green;
