Page:Corn rigs are bonny.pdf/7

7 The dread and envy of them all. Rule Britannia, &c.

Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame, All their attempts to bend thee down Will but arouse, arouse thy gen’rous flame, And work their woe in thy renown. Rule Britannia, &c.

The muses still with freedom found, Shall to thy happy coast repair; Blest isle! with beauty, with matchless beauty crown'd, And manly hearts to guard the fair. Rule Britannia, &c.

While I hang on your bosom distracted to lose you, High swells my sad heart and fast my tears flow, Yet think not of coldness they fall to accuse you Did I ever upbraid you, oh! no my love no. I own it would please me at home could you tarry, Nor e'er feel a wish from Maria to go, But if it gives pleasure to you my dear Harry, Shall I blame your departure? oh no my love no, Shall I blame your departure? oh no my love no.