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The platted rulf looks well enough, now pidgeons craws they wear, alas! Stuck out before, like the breaſt of a boar, O what a beau my Granny was. Chor. With her hizzy, quizzy, etc.

T H E N E W R A M I L I E S.

Y O U pretty maids where e'er you be, that have ſweet hearts on the raging ſea, Come ſhed a tear along with me, my love was loſt in the Ramilie.

My love he was a ſailor Sold, as e'er a fair maid did behold, He was always conſtant kind to me, he has loſt his life in the Ramilie.

The ſeas did roll full mountains high, there was no daylight in the ſky, The wind did blow with a diſmal flock, when the Ramilies daſh'd againſt a rock.

Five hundred ſeamen ſtout and bold, was here on board as we are told, Twenty-five of them their life did ſave, the reſt were buried in a wat'ry grave.

Nigh Plymouth harbour where they lay, the wind did blow moſt diſmally, By boiſterous ſeas the ſhips were drove, by cruel Fortune I loſt my love.

You widows and you fatherleſs, come mourn with me in my diſtreſs, Their mothers to their fathers cries, we've lost our ſons in the Ramilies.