ISLE OF ST HELENA.

Now Boney is awa,
From his warring and fighting,
He is gone to a place,
That he ne'er can delight in.
He may sit now and tell
Of the scenes he has seen a',
While forlorn he doth mourn
On the isle of St Helena.

No more at St Clouds
He'll appear in great splendor,
Nor go forth with his crouds,
Like the great Alexander.
He may sigh to the winds,
By the great mount Diana,
With his eyes o'er the waves,
That surrounds St Helena.

Now Lousiana weeps
For her husband departed,
She dreams while she sleeps,
And awakes broken hearted.
Not a friend to condole,
Even those that might they winna,
And she mourns while she thinks
On the isle of St Helena.