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And while remembrance wakes the sigh,
Which weans each fealing heart from joy,
The mournful dirge ascending high,
Bewails the fate of Sally Roy.


SWEET Sue! sweet Sue! was Portsmouth's pride and boast,
The sailor's theme, the landsman's toast;
All vying who should love her most.
Accomplish'd charming Sue!
On me she cast a winning smile,
I joyful caught the winning wile,
My open heart perceiv'd no guile
In smilling, lovely Sue.
Dear Sue! dear Sue ! her coral lip. her cheek,
Where the musk-rose op'd the dew to suck or seek,
Her eyes, where dancing cherubs speak;
Bewitching, charming Sue!
All were mine, I fondly thought,
Nor deem'd the treasure dearly bought,
Though friends and fame were set at nought
For lovely, lovely Sue?
Ah Sue! ah Sue! could falsehood fill that breast?
Thy sailor true, thy love, oppress'd,
On this sad theme must ever rest,
Inconstant, lovely Sue!
I must upbraid that friend and thee,
Who, while thy true love plough'd the sea,
Obtain'd that heart betroth'd to me,

Ungrateful, faithless Sue!