The Disconsolate Sailor's Return

Once more I return'd to my own native shore, Which I left so dejected, so heartless and poor, Each face look'd indignant and shy; I sought for relief on the perilous main, And, Fortune, she cheer'd my poor heart once again, While I brav'd the caprice of the sky.

Tho' death seem'd impatiently waiting around, With sharp-pointed lightning and thunder profound, Or roar'd in the turbulent wind, When a calm has return'd, I've said to each mate, Tho' the heavens have frown'd, there's nothing I hate. So much as the frowns of mankind.

I had not forgot how my heart was oppress'd, And slighted by those, whom I'd often caress'd, And parted my penny so free; But if ever dame Fortune shou'd leave me again. No more shall ingratitude give me a pain, I'll seek for resource on the sea.