Page:Joys of the harvest.pdf/7

[ 7 ] My reputation they didain’d,

their might I could not hinder,

Which caus’d me to be pres’d away,

and ent aboard the tender.

Peggy my jewel, Do not grieve,

uppoe I mut retire,

Since I’m oblig’d to go to ea,

it’s you I do admire.

When I’m upon the raging ea,

and in the midt of trangers,

The thoughts of you my dearet dear,

will help me out of dangers.

 

THE ANSWER.

Y jewel’s gone to range the ea,

to face the blutring ocean;

May the God of fortune on him smile,

end him honour and promotion.

No rain, or hail, or lighting fly,

nor roaring claps of thunder,

Nor welling billows loudly baul,

my darling to make wonder.

Great Alexander, God of war,

tenderly mile upon him ;

Let no diappointment attend my dear,

end him honour and promote him.