The Sea-worn Tar

The sea-worn tar, who in the war, No danger e'er could move; True to his gun, all hazards run, Yet thought upon his love: But, home again, forgets his pain, And seeks his faithful lass; Lock'd in her arms, enjoys her charms, And fills the sparkling glass.

The ship safe moor'd, with gold well stor'd, All dangers now are o'er; His timber's tight, his rigging light, He scuds along the shore, To seek the place where ev'ry grace Adorns his charming lass; Then, in her arms, enjoys her charms, And fills the sparkling glass.

In war renown'd, with honor crown'd, He laughs and sings away; Oft' fore and aft, aloft, abaft, He talks from night to day, Of red hot balls and batter'd walls, To entertain his lass; Lock'd in her arms, enjoys her charms, And fills the sparkling glass.