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 O'er me and mine, come mistress prove, and then what ill can harm us? Kind Hymen will each fear remove, and spread each sweet to charm us, Together we will live content and nought but love will trade in; So sweetly shall our lives be spent, dear litt'e Cottage Maiden,





TIGHT lads have I sail'd with, but none e'er so sightly as honest Bill Bob Bobstay, so kind and so true; He'd sing like a mermaid and foot it so light'y, the forecastle's pride, the delight of the crew: But poor as a beggar, and often in tatters, he went tho' his was kind without end, For money, c y'dcry'd [sic] Bill, and them their sort of matters, what’s the good on't d'ye s e,see, [sic] but to succour a friend?

There's Nipcheese, the purser, by grinding and squeezing, first plundring then 'eaving the ship like a rat: The eddy of fortune stands on breeze in, and mounts, fierce as fire a doz-vane in his hat. My bark, thought hard storms on life's ocean should rock her, though she rolls in misfortunes and pi chpitch [sic] end for end, No, never shall Bill keep a shot in the locker, when by handing it out he can succour a friend.

Let them throw out their whips, and cry, spite of the crosses,