For the sight of the land he’s in sorrow.
SECOND VOICE.
No duns here molest, and no creditors sue;
His bills are all paid, and his cares are but few,
And he smiles at the wants of tomorrow.
FIRST VOICE.
In his blest dreams of home, he’s arous’d from his sleep,
From fireside joys, to the roar of the deep;
And ‘Aloft! meet the storm,’ is the cry.
SECOND VOICE.