Aflope a Summer Eve! Of all the Stars Titled the first and faireft, thou didst hope Elated as Supream when o'er the North The Tyrant lies, whose Noftrils used to breath In folemn State the Bones of pious Kings, Gather'd to their Great Sires, are fafe repos'd Beneath the weeping Vault. But thou, a Branch Blasted and Curst by Heav'n, to Dogs and Fowls Art doom'd a Banquet; mingling fome Remains With Criminals unabfolv'd; on all thy Race Tranfmitting Guilt and Vengeance. From thy [Domes Thy Children fculk erroneous and forlorn, A A SONG Written at Sea, by the late Earl of Dorfet, in the firft Dutch War. How hard it is to write; The Mufes now, and Neptune too We must implore to write to you. II. For tho' the Mufes fhou'd prove kind, Yet if rough Neptune rouze the Wind To wave the azure Main, Our Paper, Pen and Ink, and we Roul up and down our Ships at Sea. With a Fa, &c. III. Then if we write not by each Poft Nor yet conclude our Ships are lost Our Tears we'll send a speedier way, The Tide fhall bring 'em twice a Day. With a Fa, &c.' IV. The King with Wonder and Surprize Because the Tides will higher rife, But let Him know it is our Tears Bring Floods of Grief to Whitehall Stairs. With a Fa, &c. V. Shou'd Foggy Opdam chance to know Our fad and dismal Story, The Dutch wou'd fcorn fo weak a Foe, And quit their Fort at Goree; For what Refistance can they find From Men who've left their Hearts behind With a Fa, &c. VI. Let Wind and Weather do its worst, Be you to us but kind; Let Dutchmen vapour, Spaniards curfe, No Sorrow we shall find 'Tis then no Matter how things go, Or who's our Friend, or who's our Foe. With a Fa, &c. VII. To pass our tedious Hours away, We throw a merry Main; |