Tho' fortune seems to be thy foe,
and for a while to leave thee:
Yet shee again on thee may smile,
then be not broken hearted,
Tho' from this little Brittish Isle,
thou must not yet be parted.
With care and grief I am opprest,
and I am discontented,
Sorrow is lodged in my Breast,
my Youthful life lamented: