Page:Sea songs (1).pdf/6

 ( 6 ) A curſe on all sanderous tongues, A falſe friend his mild nature abus'd; And ſweet Kate of the vileſt of wrongs, To poiſon Ben's pleaſure, accuſed: That ſhe never had truly been kind; That falſe were the tokens ſhe gave; That ſhe ſcorned him, and willi'd he might find. In the ocean a wai'ry grave. Too ſure from this cank'rous elf, The venom accompliſn'd its end ; Ben, al truth and honour himſelf, Suſpected no fraud in his friend; On the vard while ſuſpended in air, A Icoſe to his ſorrows he gave, Take thy wſlh cried he, falſe cruel fair, And plunged in a wat'ry grave.

Heaving of the Lead. FOR England when, with ſav’ring ga Our gallant lip up channel ſtocr'd And ſcudding under eaſy fail, The high blue weſtern land appear’d.