Page:Blue bonnets o'er the border (2).pdf/6



Behold, from many an hostile shore, And all the dangers of the main, Where billows mount, and tempests roar, Your faithful Tom return again; Returns and with him brings a heart, That ne'er from Sally shall depart.

After long toils and troubles past, How sweet to tread our native soil, With conquest to return at last, And deck our sweet hearts with the spoil, No one to beauty should pretend, But such as dare it's rights defend.

Why all this anger, Celia shewn, And I the unhappy object made; Why will you punish with a frown, The wretch whom first your smiles betrayed. Not all your beauty and your wit, Could force my stubborn heart to yield, Compelle'd by kindness to submit, And willingly resign the field.