Page:Far, far at sea (NLS104186882).pdf/8

8 'Tis but in vain, I mean not to upbraid you, boys) 'Tis but in vain For soldiers to complain: Should next campaign Send us to him who made us, boys, We're free from pain; But if we remain, A bottle and kind landlady Cure all again.

ROSY MORN.

the rosy morn appearing, Paints with gold the verdant lawn, Bees, on banks of thyme disporting, Sip the sweets and hail the dawn.

Warbling birds the day proclaiming, Carol sweet the lively strain; They forsake their leafy dwelling, To procure the golden grain.

See, content, the humble gleaner, Takes the scatter'd ears that fall: Nature, all her children viewing, Kindly bounteous, cares for all.

FINIS.