With fresh store I've return'd to Old England again, And the world it doth smile upon me, Each one with kind looks welcomes me from the main, But I from them all will be free.

Now fortune once more doth my purse overflow, What a different aspect I find, Their smiles and their gratitude that they do shew, I look on't as changing as wind.

I think it but just to rejoice at my cot, And to rest with content on the shore, And pass o'er with pleasure each night in my cot, Without thoughts of the seas any more.

No more will I cross the wide ocean again, But each shipmate shall freely partake, I now bid farewel to France and proud Spain, In a full bowl, that I ne'er will forsake.

My mind is restor'd from the torrents of life, To the girl that shall share of my wealth, And contented I'll rest, when I've made her my wife, Where nothing is wanting but health.

My course I have steer'd to the harbour of love, I'm prepar'd for my toils and my scars, No jealousy ever my mind shall remove, I now bid adieu to the wars.