To pass our tedious hours away,
We throw a merry main;
Or else at serious Ombre play;
But why should we in vain
Each other’s ruin thus pursue? 
We were undone, when we left you. 
With a fa, &c.

VIII.

But now our fears tempestuous grow,
And cast our hopes away;
Whilst you, regardless of our woe,
Sit carelessly at play;
Perhaps permit some happier man,
To kiss your hand, or flirt your fan. 
With a fa, &c.

IX.

When any mournful tune, you hear,
That dies in every note;
And if it sigh’d with each man’s care,
For being so remote;
Think then, how often love we’ve made
To you, when all those tunes were play’d. 
With a fa, &c.

X.

In justice, you cannot refuse,
To think of our distress;
When we for hopes of honour lose,
Our certain happiness;
All those designs are but to prove,
Ourselves more worthy of your love. 
With a fa, &c.

XI.

And, now we’ve told you all our loves,
And likewise all our fears;
In hopes this declaration moves,
Some pity for our tears: 
Let’s hear of no inconstancy,
We have too much of that at sea. 
With a fa, &c.

To maintain an evenness of temper in the time of danger, is certainly the highest mark of heroism; but some of the graver cast have been apt to say, this sedate composure somewhat differs from that levity of disposition, or frolic humour, that inclines a man to write a song.  But, let us consider my lord’s fervour of youth, his gaiety of mind, supported by strong spirits, flowing from an honest heart, and, I believe, we shall rather be disposed to admire, than censure him on this occasion.  Remember too, he was only a volunteer.  The conduct of the battle depended not on him.  He had only to shew his intrepidity and diligence, in executing the orders of his commander, when called on; as he had no plans of operation to take up his thoughts why not write a song? there was neither indecency, nor immorality in it:  I doubt not, but with that chearfulness of mind he composed himself to rest, with as right feelings, and as proper an address to his maker, as any one of a more melancholly disposition, or gloomy aspect.

Most commanders, in the day of battle, assume at least a brilliancy of countenance, that may encourage their soldiers; and they are admired for it:  to smile at terror has, before this, been allowed the mark of a hero.  The dying Socrates discoursed his friends with great composure; he was a philosopher of a grave cast:  Sir Thomas Moore (old enough to be my lord’s father) jok’d, even on the scaffold; a strong instance of his heroism, and no contradiction to the rectitude of his mind.  The verses the Emperor Adrian wrought on his death-bed (call them a song if you will) have been admired, and approved, by several great men; Mr. Pope has not only given his opinion in their favour, but elegantly translated them, nay, thought them worthy an imitation, perhaps exceeding the original.  If this behaviour of my lord’s is liable to different constructions, let good nature, and good manners, incline us to bestow the most favourable thereon.