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The whole creation’s wealth ſurvey;
through both the Indies wander;
Aſk what brib’d Senates gives away,
and fighting Monarchs ſquander.
The richeſt ſpoils of earth and air;
the rifled ocean’s treaſure:
'tis all too poor a bribe by far
to purchafe ſuch a pleaſure.
She bluſhing cry’d-my life, my dear,
ſince Celia thus you fancy,
Give me, but 'tis too much, I fear,
a rundlet of right Nantzy.
HOMEWARD BOUND.
{di|L}}OOSE every ſail to the breeſe,
the courſe of the veſſel improve,
I’ve done with the toils of the ſea,
ſailors I’m bound to my love.
Since Emma is true as ſhe’s fair,
my griefs I fling all to the wind,
'Tis a pleaſant return for my care,
my miſtreſs is conſtant and kind.
My ſails are fill'd to my dear,
what tropic bird ſwifter can move?
Who cruel ſhall hold his career
that returns to the neſt of his love.
