Page:Bonaparte's farewell.pdf/6

 Nought had he sav’d, nought did he need,

rich he in thoughts of lovely Nan.

But scarce five miles poor Tom had gain’d,

when he was press’d; he heav’d a sigh,

And said, though cruel was his lot,

ere flinch from duty he would die.

In fight Tom Starboard knew no fear,

nay, when he’d lost an arm, resign’d,

Said, love for Nan, his only dear,

had sav’d his life, and fate was kind,

The war being ended, Tom return’d;

his lost limb serv’d him for a joke;

For still his manly bosom burn’d

with love—his heart was heart of oak.

Ashore, in haste Tom nimbly ran

to cheer his love, his destin’d bride,

But false report had brought to Nan,

six months before, that Tom had died.

With grief she daily pin’d away,

no remedy her life could save;

And Tom arriv’d that very day

they laid his Nancy in her grave.





In storms whien clouds obscure the sky,

And thunders roll, and lightnings fly,