WH HY droops my Nan, and why those tears? I go, my Nan, my Country's friend, The youth to fix his native right: WE HO better knows the world than I, And in all weathers, wet or dry, Here's dreadful news I loudly cry, But just arriv'd from France! Search Search round the world, you'll find 'tis true, The one half of mankind, The plan of puffing do pursue, The other half to blind: Yon Doctor, who so rich and gay, Your money-lenders advertise, Players and dancers, well 'tis known, To gain the which they spare no lies, But when to queer the folks I choose, WHY, what's that to you, if my eyes I'm a wiping, A tear is a pleasure, d'ye see, in its way: 'Tis nonsense for trifles, I own, to be piping, But they that ha'nt pity, why I pities they : Says the Captain, says he, I shall never forget it, If of courage you'd know, lads, the true from the sham, 'Tis a furious lion in battle, so let it, But duty appeas'd, 'tis in mercy a lamb. There was bustling Bob Bounce, for the old one not caring, Helter skelter, to work, pelt away, cut, and drive; [ing, Swearing, he, for his part, had no notion of sparWhy, as for a foe, why he'd eat him alive. But when that he found an old prisoner he'd wounded, That once sav'd his life, as near drowning he swam; The lion was tam'd, and with pity confounded, He cried over him just all as one as a lamb. That my friend, Jack or Tom, I should rescue from danger, Or lay my life down for each lad in the mess, Is nothing at all; 'tis the poor wounded stranger, And the poorer the more I shall succour distress; For however their duty bold tars may delight in, And peril defy as a bug-bear or flam; Tho' the lion may feel surly pleasure in fighting, He'll feel more by compassion when turn'd to a lamb. The The heart and the eyes you see feel the same motion, And if both shed their drops 'tis all to the same end; And thus 'tis that every tight lad of the ocean, Sheds his blood for his country, his tears for his friend. If my maxim's disease, 'tis disease I shall die on, You may snigger and titter, I do'nt care a damn! In me let the foe feel the paw of the lion, But, the battle once ended, the heart of a lamb. MY native land I bid adien, And calmly friendship's joys resign'd; But ah! how keen my sorrows grew, Yet, should her truth feel no decay; Then shall not I lament the day, When my true love I left behind. IN N the world's crooked path where I've been, There to share of life's gloom my poor part, The bright sunshine, that soften'd the scene, Was a smile from the girl of my heart. Not a swain, when the lark quits her nest, With a smile from the girl of his heart. Come then crosses and cares as they may, TRAVERS'D Juda's barren sand, But there the Turk had spoil'd the land, From thence to Italy's fair shore Where Hymen, with celestial pow'r, Ye |