Page:Cruel father, or, The loyal lover's downfal (1).pdf/7

7 We a' sneering behin' and before him,

for sic is the mettle o' brutes,

Poor Wattie, and waes me for him,

was forced to gang hame in his boots.

Sing fal de ral, la de.  

THE BAY OF BISCAY.

Loud roar'd the dreadful thunder,

The rain in deluge showers,

The clouds were rent asunder,

By lightning’s vivid powers;

The night both drear and dark,

Our poor devoted bark,

Till next day, there she lay

In the bay of Biscay O.

Now dash’d upon the billows,

Her opning timbers creak;

Each fears a watery pillow,

None stops the dreadful leak:

To cling to sllpp’ryslipp'ry [sic] shrouds

Each breathless seaman crowds,

As she lay till the day

In the bay of Biscay O.

At length the wish'd-for morrow

Broke thro’ the hazy sky;

Absorb’d in silent sorrow,

Each heav'd the tender sigh: