And growing fainter as I pass'd and colder, Curs'd that ill hour when I became a soldier! In town I found the hours more gayly pass And Time fled swiftly with my girl and glass; The girls were wonderous kind and wonderous fair, They soon transferred me to the Doctor's care, The Doctor undertook to cure the evil, And he almost transferred me to the Devil. 'Twere tedious to relate the dismal story Of fighting, fasting, wretchedness and glory. At last discharg'd, to England's shores I came Paid for my wounds with want instead of fame, Found my fair friends and plunder'd as they bade me, They kist me, coax'd me, robb'd me and betray'd me. Tried and condemn'd his Majesty transports me, And here in peace, I thank him, he supports me, So ends my dismal and heroic story And Humphrey gets more good from guilt than glory. JOHN, SAMUEL, & RICHARD. (Time, Evening.) JOHN. 'Tis a calm pleasant evening, the light fades away, And the Sun going down has done watch for the day. To my mind we live wonderous well when transported, It is but to work and we must be supported. Fill the cann, Dick! success here to Botany Bay! RICHARD. Success if you will,--but God send me away. JOHN. Ah! you lubberly landsmen don't know when you're well; Hadst thou known half the hardships of which I can tell! The sailor has no place of safety in store-- From the tempest at sea, to the press-gang on shore! When Roguery rules all the rest of the earth, God be thanked in this corner I've got a good birth. Talk of hardships! what these are the sailor don't know! 'Tis the soldier my friend that's acquainted with woe, Long journeys, short halting, hard work and small pay, To be popt at like pidgeons for sixpence a day!-- Thank God! I'm safe quarter'd at Botany Bay. JOHN: Ah! you know but little! I'll wager a pot I have suffer'd more evils than fell to your lot. Come we'll have it all fairly and properly tried, Tell story for story, and Dick shall decide. SAMUEL: Done. JOHN: Done. 'Tis a wager and I shall be winner; Thou wilt go without grog Sam to-morrow at dinner. SAMUEL: I was trapp'd by the Serjeant's palavering pretences, He listed me when I was out of my senses. So I took leave to-day of all care and all sorrow And was drill'd to repentance and reason to-morrow. JOHN: I would be a sailor and plough the wide ocean, And was soon sick and sad with the billow's commotion. So the Captain he sent me aloft on the mast, And curs'd me, and bid me cry there--and hold fast! SAMUEL: After marching all day, faint and hungry and sore, I have lain down at night on the swamps of the moor, Unshelter'd and forced by fatigue to remain. All chill'd by the wind and benumb'd by the rain. JOHN: