Page:Watty's wedding, or, The old maiden's marriage.pdf/8

(8) If she be true, sure of his heart

she never need bewail her;

For tho' a thousand leagues apart,

still constant is her Sailor:

Tho' she be false, still he is kind,

and comes with smiles to hail her;

He trusting, as he trusts the wind,

still faithleſs to her Sailor.

A butcher can procure her prog,

three threads to drink, a taylor;

What's that to biscuit, and to grog,

procur'd her by her Sailor?

She who wou'd such a mate ,

ill-nature sure must ail her:

Search round, and if you're wise, you'll chuse

to wed an honest Sailor.



Falkirk—T. Johnston, Printer.—1817.