Dibdin's Museum, &c, SONG

When Jack parted from me, to plough the salt deep, Alas, I mayn't see him again! In spite of all talking I could not but weep, To help it I'm sure was in vain. Then he broke from my arms, and bid me farewell, Saying, "Poll, come, my soul, it won't do; "So do you hear, avast whining and sobbing my girl, "'Tis all foolish nonsense in you.' I could not help thinking that Jack was in right, From a something that whisper'd d'ye see, There's a sweet little Angel that sits out of sight, Will restore my poor Jack unto me.

Yet while he's at distance each tho't is employ'd, And nought can delight me on shore; I fancy at times that the ship is destroy'd, And Jack I shall never see more: But that it's but fancy; that Angel above, Who can do such a wonder of things, I know will ne'er suffer a harm to my love, And so to myself I thus sings; What matters repining, my heart shall be light, For a something, there whispers, d'ye see, There's a sweet little Angel that sits out of sight, Will restore my poor Jack unto me.

But should that sweet Angel, wherever he be, Forget to look out after Jack; Why then he may never return unto me, Ah, never, no never come back: But oh, it can't be, he's too good and too kind, To make the salt water his grave; And why should I then each tale-teller mind, Or dread every turbulent wave: Besides I will never kind Providence slight, For a something there whispers d'ye see, There's a sweet little Angel that sits out of sight, Will restore my poor Jack unto me.