They dread to meet thee poor Unfortunate ! [hose crime it was on life's unfinished road To feel the Istida me baffettings of fate And render back thy being ? heavy lood. At once perhaps the social passions glowd In they devoted bosom workte hand_ That smote its hindred heart might yet be prome To duds of Mercy - Who can understand. Thy many woes froor Suicide unknown __ He who thy being gave shall Farge of I. Ye Mariners of England! That guard. our native seas, 1 years. Whave flag has bravid a thousand, Your glorious standard laurch. To match another Joe.... Chorus And sweep thro the deep And sweep thre the deep k again While the stormy tempests blow While the battle rages And the stormy tempests blow |