Page:Downfall of Paris, and Bonaparte dethron'd.pdf/6

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THE

DISCONSOLATE SAILOR.

my money was gone

which I gain’d in the wars,

And the world ’gan to frown on my fate,

What matter'd my zeal,

or my honoured ſcars,

When in difference ſtood at each gate:

The face that would ſmile,

when my purſe was well lin’d,

Show’d a different aſpect to me:

And when I could naught but ingratitude find,

I fled once again to the ſea.

I thought it unwiſe to repine at my lot,

or to bear with cold looks on the ſhore,

S‘ I pack’d up the trifling remnants I got,

and a trifle, alas! was my ſtore.

A handkerchief held all the treaſure I had,

which over my ſhoulder I threw;

Awa then I trudg'd with a heart rather ſad

to join with ſome jolly ſhip’s crew.