I send you a few Lines, wrote in the late gale; which, I think, you will not disapprove.
How interesting your letters are! You cannot write too much, or be too particular.
* * * * *
Though ——'s polish'd verse superior shine,
Though sensibility grace every line;
Though her soft Muse be far above all praise.
And female tenderness inspire her lays:
Deign to receive, though unadorn'd
By the poetic art,
The rude expressions which bespeak
A Sailor's untaught heart!
A heart susceptible, sincere, and true;
A heart, by fate, and nature, torn in two:
One half, to duty and his country due;
The other, better half, to love and you!
Sooner shall Britain's sons resign
The empire of the sea;
Than Henry shall renounce his faith,
AND PLIGHTED VOWS, TO THEE!
And waves on wares shall cease to roll,
And tides forget to flow;
Ere thy true Henry's constant love,
Or ebb, or change, shall know.
The weather, thank God, is moderating.
I have just got a letter from the new Earl at the Admiralty, full of compliments. But nothing shall stop my law-suit, and I hope to cast him.