Downfall of Paris, and Bonaparte dethron'd

                          ( 6 )

                           THE

 DISCONSOLATE SAILOR.

WHEN my money was gone
which I gain'd in the wars,
And the world 'gan to frown on my fate,
What matter'd my zeal,
or my honoured ſcars,
When indifference ſtood at each gate;

The face that would ſmile,
when my purſe was well lin'd,
She w'd a different aſpect to me;
And when I could nought but ingratitude
I tried once again to the ſea.         (find,

I thought it unwiſe to repine at my lot,
or to bear with cold looks on the ſhore,
So I pack'd up the trifling remnants I got,
and a trifle, alas ! was my ſtore.

A handkerchief held all the treaſure I had,
which over my ſhoulder I threw; (ſad,
Away then I trudg'd with a heart rather
to join with ſome jolly ſhip's crew.