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Farewell, my home and countrymen,
And the ancient hills of Yarrow.
Kind providence may rest the soul
Of Allan Tine o’ Harrow.
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JACK IN HIS ELEMENT.
Bold Jack the Sailor, here I come,
Pray how do you like my nib;
My trowsers wide, my trartipers rum,
My nab and flowing jib:
I sail the seas from end to end,
And lead a roving life,
At every mess we find a friend,
At every port a wife.
I have heard therti talk of constancy,
Of grief and such like fun,
I have constant been to ten, cry’d I,
But never griev’d for one.
The flowing sails we tars unbend,
To lead a roving live,
At every mess we find a friend,
At every port a wife.
I have a spanking wife at Portsmouth Gates,