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7 Where the storms, which we feel in this cold world, should cease,

And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace.

I'M GRIEVED TO LEAVE MY COMRADES ALL.

The sun was wading in the west;

The bird sat chattering in ilka tree;

All nature seem'd to be at rest,

But their no rest provided for me.

CHORUS.

I’m griev'd to leave my comrades all,

I'm grieved to leave my native shore.

My aged parents whom I loved so dear,

And the bonny lass that I adore.

Adieu to England's seafaring boast,

The dark and dismal the mountains be;

But while on the dreary ocean I'm tost,

I'll give a sigh and a wish for thee,

I’m griev'd to leave &c.

Hark the trumpet sounds the wars alarm ;

The trumpets sound we must obey;

Our foes do appear on fair England's coast.

And to-morrow from you I'll be far away.

I'm griev'd to leave, &c.