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*Xiie wars are o’er, an^ I’m come hame,
And find thee ftill true hearted j
Tho’ poor in gear, we’re rich in love,
And mair, we’le ne’er be parted.
Quo’ lire, my grandfire left me gowd,
A mailin’plenifir’d fairly; .
Come then, my faithful bodger lad,
Thou’rt welcome to it dearly !
3P©r gold the merchant plough the mahij
1 he farmer plough - the manor ;
.But glory is the 'mdger’s prize,
The Sodger’s wealth is honour.
‘The brave poor Sodger ne’er defptfe.
Nor count him as a flranger ;
Semember he’s his country’s day,
in day and hour of danger.
To Heave Ho.
My name, d’ye fee's Tom Tough, I’ve feed a little farvice
Where mighty billows roll, and loud tempefls blow ; j
I've fail’d with noble Howe, I’ve fail’d with gallant farvis
And in valiant Duncan’s fleet I’ve fung out yo heave ho.
But more if you’d be knowing, I was co\on to B >fcawen,
And even with bra.e Hawke I’ve nobly fac d the foe ;
Then pufli round the grog, fo we’ve that and our prog,
We’ll laugh in care’s face, and ling out yo heave ho.
When fron: my love to part we firfl weighed anchor.
And Hie was fniv’ling fee’d on the beach below,
1 thought t’have coch’d my eye fneev’ling to, d’ye fee tc
thank her.
But I brought my forrows up with a yo heave bo.
lor failcrs tho’ they have their jokes, and love and feel like
other folks.
Their duty to negleft muft not come for to gpj.

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