(8)
May Neptune smooth the foaming seas,
Boreas a gale bestow:
That our hollowed sails belly’d from the masts,
By a gentle breeze may blow
To send as to our wish’d for shore,
I’ll fly to her arms whom I do adore.
Fal lal de ral, &c.
MY SLAVE AT LAST.
YES, all the world will sure agree,
He who’s secure of having thee,
Will be entirely blest;
But it were in me too great a wrong,
To make one who has been so long
My Queen, my Slave at last.
Nor ought these things to be confin’d
That were for public good design’d;
Cou'd we, in foolish pride,
Make the sun always with us stay,
'Twould burn our corn and grass away,
To starve the world beside.
Let not the thoughts of parting, fright
Two fouls which passion does unite;
For while our love does last,
Neither will strive to go away
And why the Devil should they stay,
When once that love is past!
GLASGOW,
Printed by J. & M, Robertfon, Saltmarket, 180(illegible text)
