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THE SAILOR'S DREAM.
Our port we make ; I jump ashore, For weeks to walk a watch no more, And home I push and, at the door,
I catch and buss my Nancy ; A jiffy—I am snug at tea With Jack and Nan upon my knee ; And am I really home from sea ?
Yes, there sits my own Nancy.
How many a time, by day—by night, I'd fancied this before my sight, All of us in this warm firelight ;
And is it real, my Nancy ? Yes, here I see the firelight play ()n all I've seen long leagues away; Now God be thanked for this, I say,
That here I sit with Nancy.