Sailor's tragedy (4)/Ah teach thy breast

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AH TEACH THY BREAST.

AH teach thy breast soft pity's throb,
⁠And harmonize thy rugged mind;
Ah teach thy lid soft pity's tear,
⁠That gem of sentiment refin’d.

Couldst thou once know the tender bliss
⁠The sympathising bosow knows.
When at meek sorrow's sacred touch,
⁠Responsive sadness round it flows.

No more thy brow would wear that frown,
⁠Thy glance no more so sternly dart,
But joys would glitter in thine eye,
⁠And peace cling gladly to thy heart.

FINIS