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"Her name it is Mary, ſhe's frae Caſtle Cary,
"Aft has the fat when a bairn on my 'nee!
"Fair as your face is, war't fifty times fairer,
"Young bragger! ſhe ne'er wad gie kiſſes to thee!"
'It was then your Mary, ſhe's frae Caſtle Cary,
'It was then your true love I met by the tree!
'Proud as her heart is, and modeſt her nature,
'Sweet war the kiſſes that ſhe gae to me!'
Sair gloom'd his dark brow, blood-red his cheeks grew,
Wild flaſh'd the fire from his red rolling e'e;
"Ye's rue fair this morning, your boats & your ſcorning,
"Defend ye fauſe traitor, fu’ loudly ye lie!"
'Awa' wi' beguiling, cried the yoUth ſmiling;'
Aff went the bonnet, the lint-white locks did flee,
The belted plaid fa'ing, her white borom ſhawing,
Fair ſtood the lov'd maid wi' the dark rolling e'e.
"Is it my wee thing! is it mine ain thing!
"Is it my true love here that I ſee?"
'O Jamie forgi'e me, your heart's conſtant to me;
'I'll never mair wander, my true love frae thee!"
BRITONS ONLY CONQUER TO SAVE.
When in war, on the ocean we meet the prond foe,
Tho' with ardour for corqueſt our boſoms they glow,
Let us ſee on their veſſels Old England's Flag wave,
They ſhall find Britiſh Sailors but conquer to ſave.
They ſhall find British Sailors, etc.
And now their pale Enſigns we view from a-far,
With three cheers they're welcom'd by each Britſh Tar,
Whilſt the Genius of Britain ſtill bids us advance,
And our guns hurl in thunder defiance to France.
They ſhall find Britiſh Sailors, etc!
But mark our laſt broadſide, ſhe ſinks! down ſhe
goes
Quickly man all your boats, they no longer are foes,
To ſnatch a brave fellow from a watery grave,
Io worthy a Briton who conquers to ſave.
They ſhall find Britiſh Sailors only conquer to ſave.
