Way to be happy, or, The new way of Tullochgorum/The Gentle Sailor

The GENTLE SAILOR.

GEntle ſailor, aft you've told me,
that you'll never leave your love;
To your love I now muſt hold you,
now's the time your truth to prove.
Whilſt our Britiſh fleet are guarded,
have the Frenchmen brav'd our fleet?
Can a ſailor live upbraided,
who the French have dar'd to meet!

Hear me, gallant ſailor, hear me,
whilſt our country haſt a foe,
He is mine---then come not near me,
I muſt weep; but you muſt go.
Can the ſons of Britain fail her,
whilſt her daughters prov'd ſo true?
Their ſoft courage muſt avail her:
we love honour, loving you.

Though the flowry ſeaſon wooes you,
to the peaceful ſports of May,
And lovers ſigh ſo long to loſe you,
love to glory muſt give way,
Love and honour both invite us,
blow ye winds, auſpicious blow;
Every gale will moſt delight us,
that will waft you to our foe.