Divider from 'The Tippling Farmer' a chapbook printed in Glasgow in 1802
The DISCONSOLATE SAILOR.
When my money was all spent I'd gain'd in the war,and the world began to frown on my fate,What matter'd my zeal or my honoured scars,when indifference stood at the gate.
The face that would smile when my purse was well lin'd,Shews a diff'rent respect unto me;But if I can nought but indifference find,I'll hie mysel again to the sea.
I thought it not safe to repine at my lot,or to stay with cold looks on the shore,But I pack'd up the trifling remains I had got,and a trifle, alas! was my store.
A handkerchief held all the treasure I had,which on a stick over my shoulder I threw,Away then I steer'd with a heart rather sad,for to join with some jolly ship's crew.
The sea was less troubled by far than my mind,and as the wide main I survey'd,I could not help thinking the world was unkind,and Fortune a slipp'ry jade.
But if I can take her once more into tow,I will let these ungrateful ones see,That the blust'ring winds and the billows can showmore kindness than they have for me.
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