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The Song Book
Let all your perturbations die,
Your private feuds allay, Let every animosity For ever in oblivion lie,
Now we are gone to sea.
When forked lightning flies amain,
And thunder splits our mast, Think then what dangers we sustain, Compelled by you to cross the main,
For human frailties past.
I hope to see my dear once more,
Tho' I my voyage pursue; Tho' winds unite and billows roar To waft me from Britannia's shore,
I'll be for ever true.
I neither dread the war's alarms,
Nor poison'd Indian dart; But, while engaged in hostile arms, I'll be inspired by Molly's charms,
With whom I leave my heart.
When having suffered an exile,
And favoured by the wind, Enriched with Carolina's spoil, And coasting for my native isle,
Perhaps she'll then prove kind.
From The British Musical Mkcellany. Tune by Leveridge,