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Full fifteen days in open boat,
forlorn and I loft to joy,
O’er Ocean’s baſom doom' to float,
was the Poor Sailor Boy.
Firft for our King and laws we fight,
next for our trade and beauty;
Thofe to protect is our delight,
our pride, our boaſt, and duty,
Then now relieve a hapleſs Nar,
nor pity’s claim' deſtroy:
Thus wreck’d, be you a friendly ſtar.
to the poor Sailor Boy.
+o———o———o———o+
THE
DISAPPOINTED LOVER.
Ye Mufes nine aſſiſt my quill,
with eloquence and penetration,
And I’ll aſſay for to reveal
my ſorrows great in this narration.
A Lady fair I did regard
with ardent love and great affection,
Her modeſt grace my heart inſnar’d,
as you’ll obſerve in this reflection.
