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Should landsmen flatter when we’re sail’d,
O doubt their artful tales;
No gallant sailor ever fail’d,
If Cupid fill’d his sails:
Thou art the compass of my soul,
Which steers my heart from pole to pole.
O doubt their artful tales;
No gallant sailor ever fail’d,
If Cupid fill’d his sails:
Thou art the compass of my soul,
Which steers my heart from pole to pole.
Sirens in every port we meet,
(illegible text) thau rocks or waves;
But sailors of the British fleet,
Are lovers and not slaves;
No foes our courage shall subdue,
Altho’ we’ve left our heart with you.
(illegible text) thau rocks or waves;
But sailors of the British fleet,
Are lovers and not slaves;
No foes our courage shall subdue,
Altho’ we’ve left our heart with you.
These are our cares, but if you’re kind,
We’ll scorn (illegible text)ing main,
The rocks, the billows and the wind,
The powers of France and Spain,
Now Britain’s glory rests with you,
Our sails are full—sweet girls adieu.
We’ll scorn (illegible text)ing main,
The rocks, the billows and the wind,
The powers of France and Spain,
Now Britain’s glory rests with you,
Our sails are full—sweet girls adieu.
Farewell to Spring.
Farewell to spring, virgins and wives,
Blithe bloom when saffron grows dark,
Our harvest is come, come lads to your reaping,
Your sickles are keen, come lads to your reaping,
Come lasses to glean, plow and sow.
Blithe bloom when saffron grows dark,
Our harvest is come, come lads to your reaping,
Your sickles are keen, come lads to your reaping,
Come lasses to glean, plow and sow.
The sun peeps so broad, and the twilight is sl(illegible text)
the dawn of the morning throws of the grey g(illegible text)
Come lads to your labour, ’tis welcome the d(illegible text)
Your hearty meal’s meat shall your labour r(illegible text)
the dawn of the morning throws of the grey g(illegible text)
Come lads to your labour, ’tis welcome the d(illegible text)
Your hearty meal’s meat shall your labour r(illegible text)
