Page:Jolly miller of Dee.pdf/6

 Quoth Ralph, yoer Lordhip mut

where flattering knaves reort,

(Long live our gracious King and Queen

I mean that place the Court:

Lay pomp and pageantry aide,

be from abition free;

And then your Lordhip oon may ing,

I care for nobody.



rocks and quicksands have we teer’d.

rude torms and torrents brav’d, Sir;

The battle’s rage, nor death we fear’d

we conquer’d, then we av’d, Sir.

In ditant climes Old England’s foe

did ev’ry-where annoy,

Then, me-mate-like, ome pity hew

to a Poor Sailor Boy.

When mid-night tempet roar’d around,

and eas roll’d o’er the deck, Sir,

When 92 brave ouls were drown’d,

while nine ecap’d the wreck, Sir;