Page:Green grow the rashes.pdf/3

 Auld Nature sweats the lovely dears,
 * Her noblest work she classes, O,

Her 'prentice hand she tried on man,
 * And then she made the lastes, O.

Tom Starboard was a lover true,
 * As brave a tar as ever sailed,

The duties ablest sea men do,
 * He did, and never yet had failed.

Bat wreck'd as he was homeward bound,
 * Within a league of England's coast,

Love sav'd him sure from being drown'd,
 * For all the crew but Tom were lost.

His strength restor'd, Tom hied with speed.
 * True to his love e'er was man.

Nought had he sav'd, nougat did he need,
 * Rich he in hopes of lovely Nan.

But scarce five miles poor Tom had gained,
 * When he was pressed, he heaved a sigh,

And said tho' cruel was his lat,
 * Ere flinch from duty, he would die.