8
She me forsook for a great Duke,
And to endless care has left me, Oh!
A star and garter have more art
Than youth, a true and faithful heart;
For empty titles we must part,
And for glitt'ring show she's left me, Oh!
No cruel fair shall ever move
My injur'd heart again to love;
Thro' distant climates I must rove,
Since Jeanie she has left me, Oh!
Ye pow'rs above! I to your care
Commit my lovely charming fair;
Your choicest blessings on her share,
Though she's for ever left me, Oh!
The Heaving of the Lead.
For England when, with fav'ring gale,
Our gallant ship up channel steer'd,
And, scudding under easy sail,
The high blue western land appear'd;
To heave the lead the seaman sprung,
And to the Pilot cheer'ly sung,
"By the deep NINE!"
And, bearing up to gain the port,
Some well-known object kept in view;
