This page has been validated.
7
No cruel fair shall-ever move
My injured heart again to love;
Through distant climates I must rove,
Since Jeanie she has left me O.
Ye pow'rs above, I to your care
Give up my charming lovely fair;
Your choicest blessings be her share,
Tho' she's forever left me O.
THE SOLDIER’S GRATITUDE.
Whate'er my lot, where’er I roam,
By sorrow still opprest;
I’ll ne’er forget the peaceful home
That gave the wanderer rest.
Then ever rove life’s sunny banks,
By sweetest flow’rets strew’d;
Then may you claim a soldier’s thanks,
A soldier’s gratitude.
The peaceful sigh, the balmy tear,
That meek-eye'd pity gave.
My last sad dying words shall cheer
And bless wanderers grave.
Then ever rove life's sunny banks,
