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University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/analbumofstreetlOOarylrich 


/^ 


THE 


NANCY.  *»^  »• 


THE    SERVANT 

]B©Y 


J.  Catiiach,  Printer  2,  Monmouth-court  7  Dials. 


MAYHAP  you've  heard  that  as  dear  as  oimt 
lives 
All  true-hearted  tars  love  their  ships  &  their  wives 
To  their  duty  like  pitch,  sticking  close  till  they  die 
And  who'er  wants  to  know  I'll  tell  them  for  why, 
©nethro' dangers  &storins  brings  me  safelyon shore 
Tother  welcomes  me  home,  when  my  danger's  o'er 
Both  smoothens  the  ups  &  the  downs  of  this  life. 
For  the  ships  called  the  Nancy,  &  Nancy's  my  wife 

When  Nancy  my  wife  o'er  the  lawn  scuds  so  neat 
And  80  light  the  proud  grass  scarce  yield  to  herfeet 
So  rigg'd  and  so  lovely  'tis  not  easy  to  trace, 
WhicR  is  reddest  her  top-knot,  her  shoes  or  her  face 
While  the  neighbours  to  see  herforgot  all  their  cares 
And  are  pleas'd  that  she's  mine,  tho'  the  wished 

she  was  theirs. 
Marvel  not  then  to  think  of  the  joys  of  my  life, 
I  njy  ship  called  the  Nancy  for  Nancy's  my  wife. 
As  for  Nancy  my  vessel  but  see  her  in  trim, 
Slie  seems  thro'  the  ocean  to  fly  and  not  swim, 
F«re  the  wind  like  a  dolphin  she  skiras  the  rough 

seas,  "     (stays. 

With  her  top  gallant  sails  tho'  she  looks  best  in 
Scudding,  trying,  or  tacking,  'tis  all  one  to  she. 
Mounting  high  or  low  sunk  in  the  trough  of  the  sea 
She  has  sav'd  me  in  many  hard  squeaks  of  my  life, 
So  I  cail'd  her  the  Nancy  cause  Nancy's  my  wife. 

'  hca  so  sweet  in  the  dance  careless  glides  my 

hearts  queen, 
Jhe  sets  ©ut  and  sets  in  far  the  fairest  of  th«  green 
So  of  all  the  grand  fleet  my  gay  vessel's  the  flower 
She  outsails  the  who  e  fleet  by  a  knot  in  an  hour, 
Tliw  the  both  sail  so  cheerful  thro  life's  vnrying 

breeze, 
AU  hearts  with  such  pilots  mus  tbe  at  their  ease, 
Fnus  I've  two  kind  protectors  to  wj-.tch  me  thro* 
My  good  ship  the  Nancy  &  Nancy's  my  wife. (life 
These  hands  from  protecting  them  who  shall  de- 
Ne'er  ingratitude  lurk'd  in  the  heart  of  a  tar  (bar, 
Why  every  thing  female  from  peril  to  iave. 
Is  the  noblest  distinction  that  hoaours  the  brave. 
While  a  rag,  or  a  timber,  or  h  compass  they  boast 
I'll  protect  the  dear  creatures  against  a  whole  host 
Still  grateful  to  both  to  the  end  of  my  life. 
My  good  ship  the  Nancy  and  Nancy  ray  w'ifer 


J.  Catnach,  Printer,  2,  Monmouth-court,  7  Dials 

You  overs  all  both  great  and  small  attend 
unto  my  theme,  (felt  the  same  : 

There's  none  on  earth  can  pity  me  but  those  who 
I  liv'd  between  Dungannon  &  the  t:wn  of  Augh- 
nacloy,  (vant  boy. 

But  I  live  now  in  America  with  my  father  s  ser- 
Where  is  the  man  who  can  or  will  a  farmer's  son 
despise,  ^^^^^  ^i^e. 

His  bread  to  earn  iie  does  begin  before  the  sun 
My  love  and  I  are  Adam's  seed  I  never  will  deny 
There's  none  on  earth  I  love  so  well  as  my  fa 

ther's  servant  boy. 
Mv  parents  wish'd  to  have  me  wed  unto  a  gentle; 
man,  (wedlock's  bands  - 

And  in  the  chtrrch  we  were  to  meet  to  join  in 
The  night  before  I  stole  from  them  unto  a  village 
nigh,  (servant  boy 

Where  I  did  meet  my  own  true  love  my  father's 
I  brought  my  love  along  with  me,  I  car  d  for  no- 
thing more,  (shore , 
I  bad  adieu  to  all  my  friends  and  to  the  shamrock 
To  Belfast  town  we  both  went  down,  and  soon 
found  Captain  Coy,  (servant  boy. 
And  in  his  ship  I  sailed  away  with  my  father's 
But  when  we  reach'd  America  our  money  we  did 

spend,  •  (friend 

And  were  some  time  supported,  by  a  true  Irish 

Till  a  gentleman  from  Ireland  did  give  my  love 

employ,  [servant  boy. 

Two  pounds  a  week  I  do  receive  from  my  father's 

left  my  parents  lonesome,  in  sorrow  they  did 

weep,  Lsleep, 

Both  day  and  night  bewailing,  without  a  wink  o  ? 

Until  I  S2  2t  a  letter  to  the  town  of  Aughnacloy. 

Saying  I  was  in  America  with  my  fathe  's  servant 

'.oy. 
Th*n  th  jy  sent  me  an  answer  to  Philadilpia  town 
Sayin  ^  if  I  would  come  home  again  I  should  havt 

500  pounds, 
B  It    was  join'd  in  wedlock's  bands  which  crownda 
wit :  joy,  [vant  bo  y 

And  while  I  liv  I'll  ne'er  deceive  my  father'  scr. 
This  was  the  new.s  that  I  did  send  from  Phila- 
delphia town,  [worth  one  pound. 
Where  they  were  worth  one  shilling  there  f  were 
With  pleasure  and  contentment  I  never  will  deny 
I'm  liviner  in  America  with  my  father'sservaintbo^ 


Mlj  *i445 


THE 


STAGE 

LIFE. 


THE 


Printed  bt/  J.  Catnach,  2,  MonmoiMh- 
Court,  7  Dials 


GOOD  people  all  1  ])ray  draw  near. 
And  listen  unto  ni<?, 
And  when  you  hear  what  1  relate, 

With  me  you  will  agfree. 
We  soon  must  bid  this  world  adieu, 

The  rich  as  well  as  poor. 
Neither  gold  uor  silver  can  gire  health. 
Or  ease  the  brow  of  car«. 

Ccone  oil  you  worthy  Englishmen, 

That  dwells  both  far  and  near, 
Aad  assist  each  other  in  time  of  need. 

And  live  in  friendship  here  ; 
For  soon  we  may  be  called  hence. 

Where  thousands  are  gone  before, 
There's  no  distinction  in  the  grave, 

Between  the  rich  and  poor. 

TKere  are  the  great  and  mighty  men, 

Kings  and  Princes  too, 
"ftey  all  must  be  consign'd  to  death, 

And  bid  this  world  adieu. 
Go  search  the  tombs  where  Monarchs  rest, 

And  then  it  will  be  fonnd; 
Their  wealth  and  glory  is  bereft 

Once  men  of  high  renown. 

Come  all  you  worthy  Englishmen, 

The  truth  vou  can't  deny, 
I  hope  each  other  you  will  befriend. 

And  eiich  other's  wants  supply, 
Toassisi  your  neighbour  in  distress, 

It  is  your  duty  so  to  do. 
For  the  world  is  now  at  such  a  pa«8, 
uch  friends  you  find  but  few 

This  world  is  but  a  stage  of  life, 
Where  we  walk  up  and  down, 

In  iearching  for  a  place  of  rest, 
But  none  can  there  be  found. 

This  life  is  like  a  ship  at  sea, 
liy  wares  toss'd  up  and  dowa, 
e  hope  to  find  a  place  of  rest, 
When  the  last  trumpet  sounds. 


Piintrfb  }  J.  CATNACH,  2,  Monmouth. Court,  7  Di»ii. 
f>^     Travellers  and  Shopkef  pers  lupplied  witk  Shtei  Hyni  K 
P«tter»,  and  Slip  Songi  as  CHEAP  and  G«-3«:a     wijr 
Shop  in  London. 


,N  Friday  morning  as  we  set  sail, 
It  was  not  far  from  land, 
O  there  I  espy'd  a  fair  pretty  maid, 
With  the  conil)  and  the  glass  in  hernand 
CHORUS. 
O  the  stormy  winds  they  did  blow, 

And  the  raging'  seas  did  roar, 
While  we  poor  sailors  go  up  to  the  top 
And  the  land  lubbers  lies  below. 

Then  up  spoke  a  boy  of  our  gallant  ship, 
And  a  well-spoken  boy  was  he, 

I've  a  father  &  mother  in  fair  Ports nwuth 
town, 
And  this  night  they  will  weep  f(^r  n>c. 

Then  up  spoke  a  man  of  our  gal  la  it  shhp 

And  a  well-spoken  man  was  he, 
I  have  married  a  wife  in  fair  London  towk 

And  this  night  she  a  widow  will  be. 
Then  up  spoke  the  captain  of  our  gall-ant 

And  a  valiant  man  was  he,  (ship, 

For  want  of  a  long  boat  we  shall  all  b« 
drown'd, 

So  she  sunk  to  the  bottom  ot  the  scft. 

The  moon  shone  urisht,  A'the  stars  gav« 

And  my  mother  is  ltM)kingforme,  (light, 

She  might  look,  she  might  weep,  with 

vtdtery  eye^,  (sea. 

:><)C  might  IcoK    «   the  Wottoai  i>t  the 


His  Jacket  of  Blue. 


J.  Catnach,  Printer,  2,  MoHmouth-court, 

7  Dials, 

SOME    nations  may  boast  of  their 
walls 
Of  their  armies  may  make  much  a-clo, 
But  tell  me  the  power  when  Liberty 
calls 
Like  the  gallant  stout  jackets  so  blue, 
Our  sailors  are  Lords  of  the  Sea, 
The'  they  roll  in   the  old  world    or 
new,  (bier  may  be 

None  bolder,  none  stronger,  none  no- 
Than  the  jolly  stout  jackets  of  blue. 

Each  flag  that  flies  over  the  main, 

No  matter  what 'er  be  it  hue, 
Must  strike  as  it  has  struck  again  and 
again 

To  the  gallant  stout  jackets  of  blue. 
The  jacket  to  Neptune  is  dear, 

So  he  spoke  thus  to  each  of  his  crew, 
All  honour  and  glory  and  vvorth  shall 
appear, 

With  uiy  own  jolly  jackets  of  blue. 

The  King  in  his  majesty  great 

Remains  to  his  own  colour  true, 
And  amidst  all  his  robes  &  his  ermines 
of  State 

Remembers  his  jacket  of  blue. 
Then  loud  let  each  Mariner  sing 

In  a  chorus  still  honest  tho'  new, 
Here's  a  health  &  long  life  to  our  bViM 
jacket  King, 

To  our  King  in  his  jacket  of  blue. 


We  shall  never  see 
its  like  ag'aln; 

J.  Catnach,  Printer,  2,  Monmouth-court, 

7  Dials. 

LD  England  is  the  land  we  love, 
None  with  it  can  compare, 
For  statesmen  wise  and  hero's  bold, 

For  commerce,  and  the  fair  ; 
'Tis  Britan's  pride  no  land  beside, 

Such  influence  does  maintain, 
Go  where  you  will  old  England  still 
We  shall  never  see  its  like  again. 

For  ages  past  our  Admirals  brave. 

Pre-eminent  have  stood. 
In  spite  of  all  the  w^orld  have  held 

The  mastery  of  the  flood  ; 
There's  Duncan,  Plood,  &  Collingwood, 

And  others  in  the  train,  (fame, 

And  Nelson's  name   sounds   matchless 

We  shall  never  see  its  like  again. 

Bold  heroes  in  the  field  we  have. 

Remember  INlarlborougli's  name. 
Brave  Abercrombie,  Wolfe,  and  Moore 

Who  died  to  live  again  ; 
We've  others  still  Comhermere  &  Hill, 

And  Wellington  remain, 
Fam'd  Waterloo  laurell'd  his  brow, 

We  shall  never  see  his  like  again. 
Great  George  the  third  who's  glorious 

Each  Briton  stil  reveres,  (name, 

Unequall'd  as  a  Monarch  reign'd. 

Through  long  eventful  years  : 
But  now  he's  gone,  we've  William  his 

God  grant  him  long  to  reign,       («on, 
May  heaven  still  shield  him  from  all  ill 

We  shall  never  see  his  like  again 


The  liiglit  Bar! 


J.  Catnach,  Printftr,  2,  IMonmonth-Court. 
Oountry  Shops  sup)ilieii. 

I'* 

'■  ^FF!  mhl  the  Hranger,  Off!  Off'! 

and  away,,  (.silvery  hay., 

And  away  flow  the  Ff^hf  Bark  o'er  the 

JJ'^e  ntK^t  '>'each  e''er  to  morrow  the  far 

diiitanti*mtje\,  .(vjc^ll  brave 

'The  billows  weVl  laugli  at^  the  tempest 

The ynnng  roving  lovers  their  vows  have 

been  given^  (by  Heav''n^ 

fUnsiniled  o'^er  by  mortals^  but  hallowed 

She  was  Ita^y''s  daughter  I  knew  by 

Jier  eye  '(her  sky  y 

it  wore  the  bright  beam  that  illumines 

Off!  said  the  stranger,  Sfc, 

And  she  has  forsaken  her  palace  8^  halls 
'For  the  chill  breeze  Sf  the  ligJitivhichfalls 
'O^er  the  ^pure  wave,  from   the  Hea^^ens 
above  (star  of  love., 

And  their  guiding  .star  teas  the  bright 
Off !  said  the  stranger.  By/'. 

Men  what  silly  things 
you  are 

0^H  !  Men  what  silly  things  you  arc, 

To  woman  thus  to  humble, 
JVho  fowler  like,  but  spreads  her  .snare 
Or  at  the  timid  game  takes  aim, 
-Pojp,  pop,  and  down  you  tumble. 
She  marks  you  down,  fly  tvhere  you  will 

0''er  clover,  grass  or  stubble. 
Can  whig  you,  feather  you  or  kill 

Just  as  she  takes  the  trouble, 
Oh  !  Men  what  silly  things,  8fc. 

Then  fly  not  from  ns,  "'tis  in  vain, 

//-^e  know  the  art  of  setting. 
As  well  as  shooting,  and  can  train., 

Tlie  shyest  fool  ourmit  in. 
Oh  !  Men  what  silly  things,  Sfc. 


THE  DUSKY 

NIGHT. 

J.Cufnocli,  Printer,  2,  Monmoutli-court,  iVml^ 


'X'HE  (luskv  nio-lit  rides  down  tlieskv 


And  ushers  ill  the  morn, 


^'"e  lionnds  all  nr.ikea  jovial  rry, 
The  huntsman  winds  his  horn. 

Then  a  hunting  we  wdl  go,  &c. 
»   The  wife  around  her.hushfind  ihFows, 
Her  arms  to  make  him  .stay, 
My  dear,  it  hails,  it  rains,  it  blows, 
Yon  cannot  hunt  to  day. 

But  a  hunting  we  AYill  go,  Sic. 
The  uncavemVl  fox,  like  lightning  ftiesv 

His  cunning's  ail  iuvake, 
Again  the  race  he  eager  tries 
His  forfeit  life's  the  stake. 

When  a  hunting  we  will  go.  &c. 
llous'd  even  echo  huntress  turns. 

And  madly  shouts  her  joy, 
The, cportsinan'shreastenraptur'd  burns 
The  chacc  can  never  cloy. 

Then  a  hunting  we  will  go,  8ic. 

Derspairing  mark  he  seeks  the  tide, 
His  heart  must  now  prevail,     (tide, 

Hark  !  shouts  the  miscreant's  death  be- 
His  speed,  his  cunning  fail. 

Then  a  hunting  we  will  go  &c. 

For  oh!  his  -strength  to  faintness  worn, 
The  houuds  arrest  his  flight, 

Then  hungry  homewards  we  return, 
To  feast  aw  ay  the  night, 

Then  a  drinking  we  will  go,  Sec. 


The  Three  Flies. 

THERE  were  three  flies,  once  on  a  time 
Resolv'dlo  travel  and  change  their 

clime. 
For  they  neither  cared  for  father  nor  mother 
Fornncle  nor  aunt,  nor  sister,  nor  brother 
The  first  was  a  yellow  one,  the  second  was 

blue, 
And  the  third  was  a  green  one  to  the  view 
So  off  they  set  with  merry  hums. 
And  told  their  parents  to  kiss  their  bums. 

CHORUS. 

But  they  too  saucy  were  by  half — 
I  can't  sing  ifyou  do  laugh, 
S«  shut  your  mouths,  and  list  to  me 
Tiddleliddle  lol,  &  tiddle  liddle  lee 
And  take  a  lesson  from  a  fly. 
Don't  give  way  to  lux — u — ry. 

They  had  not  gone  far  when  the  yellow 

one  cries, 
Look  down,  my  boys,  a  dinner  I  spies. 
But  the  blue  bottle  answer'd—upon  my  word 

I  sees  nothing  but  a  large  cow  t 

A  cow  t ,  well,  there,s  good  in  that — 

I'm  sure  it  looks  monstracious  fat ; 
And  I  wish  as  how  I  may  go  to  Davy, 
If  I  don't  have  some  of  that  rich  gravy. 
But  the  others  too  dainty  were  by  lialf— 
I  can't  sing  if  you  do  laugh,  &c. 
Away  they  flew  the  other  two, 
Jacky  Green  and  Tommy  Blue  ;  * 
They  flow'd  on  fast  and  did  not  stop, 
'Till  they  came  opposite  to  a  butchers  shop 
"  Oh,  oh,  says  the  blue-bottle,  '  Here's  a 

treat ! 
I'm  particularly  fond  of  butcher's  meat," 
Says  t'other,  says  he,  "  Then  off  I  go. 
For  I  don't  care  for  meat,  you  know." 
But  he  too  dainty  was  by  half — 

I  can't  sing  &c. 

Far  off  then  by  himself  he  flow'd. 
And  into  a  grocer's  shop  he  goed! 
And  there  he  play'd  some  saucy  rigs. 
For  he  danc'd  among  the  sugar,  and  the 

plums,  and  the  figs. 
The  day  being  hot  he  took  a  whim. 
And  thought  iH  some  treacle  he  should  like 

to  swim,  (he  goes. 

So  without  considering  consequences,  in 

And  didn't  even  stop  to  takeoff  his  clothes 

But  the  treacle  he  found  too  thick  by  half 

I  can't  sing&c. 

The  other  two  pass'd  by  the  door. 
And  heard  a  voice  they'd  heard  befoie; 
So  nearer  to  the  sound  they  got, 
'Till  they  lighted  on  the  treacle  pot. 
There  they  saw  him  almost  dead. 
And  thus  to  him  the  blue-bottle  said, 
O  Greeny  all  our  powers  can't  save  ye, 
You'd  better  have  had  our  beef  and  gravy. 
But  you  too  dainty  was  by  half,&c. 

MORAL. 

Now  a41  young  men  inclinedto  loamy 
Take  my  advice,  and  stay  at  home; 
And  be  your  fortunes  dry  or  wet. 
Be  content  with  what  you  get. 
And  'bout  trifles  make  no  fuss, 
Farther  on  you  may  fare  worse,  (got 

And  mayhap  when  a  great  way  off  you've 
Like  that  poor  fly  you'll  go  to  pot. 

For  he  too  dainty  was  by  half,  &c 


J.  Catnach,  Printer,  9,S,M<iHmouth-courU 
7  DiaU. 


ISLE  OF  BEAUTY 

FARE  THEE  AVELL. 

IIIADES  of  evening  close  noto'er  us 
k:3     Leave  our  loneirbark  a  while, 
4\iorn  alas  will  not  restore  us, 

Yonderdim  and  distant  isle. 
Still  my  (ancy  can  discover, 

Sunny  s[)ots  where  friends  may  dwell, 
Darker  shadows  ro<ind  us  hover 

Isle  of  beauty  fare  thee  weil. 
Tis  the  hoar  when  happy  faces. 

Smile  around  the  taper's  lig-ht. 
Who  will  fill  our  vacaiit  places. 

Who  will  sing-  our  songs  to-night. 
Thro'  the  mist  that  floats  above  us, 

Fainlly  sounds  the  \  t-'.-per  bell, 
Like  a  voice  from  those  that  love  us. 

Breathing  fondly  fare  thee  well. 
When  the  waves  are  round  me  breaking, 

As  1  pace  the  deck  alone, 
And  my  eye  in  vain  is  seeking. 

Some  gVeen  leaf  to  rest  upon. 
What  would  1  not  give  to  wander. 

Where  my  old  companions  dwell, 
Absence  (i;akes  the  heart  grow  fonder, 
lih'  of  bcautv  fare  thee  well. 


REST,  WARRIOR  REST. 

He  comes  from  the  wars  from  the  red  field  of  fight, 
l-!t;comeslhro' the  storm,  andthedarknessof  night, 
for  re^t•dnd  for  refuge  now  fain  to  implore, 
O  •  e  warriorbcHiilslow  at  the  cottager's  door, 
I'ule.  pale  is  lu:^  cheek,  Uure'sa  gash  on  las  brow 
Uis  locks  o'er  his  shoulders  distractedly  (low, 
Aid  ihe  fire  of  hia  heart  shouts  by  fits  from  his  eye 
^^'^  u  languishing  lamp,  thi-.t  jnfii  Hashes  to  die. 

Rest,  warrior  rest. 

Sunk  in  silence  and  sleep,  m  ihe  cottager's  bed. 
UwUvion  bhall  visit  the  war-weary  head, 
Perchance  he  mav  dream,  bul  the  vision  shall  toll 
(.'i  I  i,-,  ladv-love's  bower,  and  her  latest  farewell; 
VuAou  aiid  love  chase  the  battle's  alarms, 
iic  shall  dream  that  hi.  mistress  lies  lock'd  in  his 
arms  ^,     . , 

*haU  feel  on  la.  lips  the  sweet  warmth  of  her 

^^amoi  v.ake  uoi,  such  slumber  is  b.Mss  ! 
Real   warrior  rest 


GILES  SCROGGINS' 

GHOST. 


GILES  Scroggins  courted  Molly  Bro\ri:, 
Fol  de  riddle  lol  de  riddle  lido 
The  fairest  wench  in  all  the  town, 

Folde  ridule  lol  Sou 
He  bought  her  a  ring  with  a  posy  true. 

If  you  loves  I  as  I  loves  yoa, 
So  knife  can  cut  our  iove  in  two. 

Foi  de  riddle  lol,  &c 

But  scissars  cut  as  well  as  Itnives, 

Fol  de  kddle,  lol,  &e 

And  quite  unsartin's  all  our  lives, 

Fol  de  fiddle  lol,  &c 

Tho  day  ihey  were  to  have  been  wed. 
Fate's  scissars  cut  poor  Giles'  thread, 

So  thev  could  not  be  marri-ed, 

Folde  riddle  lol,  S:c. 

i"oor  Molly  laid  her  down  to  weep, 

Fol  de  riddle  lol,  &c. 

And  cried  herself  qime  fast  asleep, 

Fol  de  riddle  lol,S:c. 

When  standing  fast  by  her  bed-post, 
A  figure  tall  her  sight  engross'd, 

And  it  cried  I  he's  Giles  Scro^gi'^s  gbosl. 
FolderiddU  Vil,  &e. 

The  ghost  it  said  all  solemnly, 

Fol  de  riddle  lol,  &c 

O  Mottv  you  must  go  with  me, 

Fol  de  riddle  lol,  ^» 

All  to  the  grave  your  love  to  cool. 
Says  she  i  am  not  dead  you  fool, 

Says'the  ghost  says  he  vy  that's  no  rule 
Fol  de  riddle  lol,  &c. 

The  ghost  then  seiz'd  her  all  so  grim, 

Fol  de  riddle  lol,  &c 

All  for  to  go  along  with  him, 

*  Folde  riddle  lol,  &c 

Come  conoe  said  he  e're  morning  beam, 

I  von't  St  id  she  and  scream'd  a  scream. 
Then  she  woke  and  found  she'd  dreamt  a  dr«*i 
Fol  de  riddle  lol,  &c. 


p 


THE  CROPPY 


o 


Pnuted  by  J.  Catnauh,  2  and  3,  Monmouth  Court, 
Seven  Dials. 

T  was  very  early  in  the  spring, 
__.     The  bir<U  di  1  whistle  and  sweeny  sing, 
Qianging  their  note*  from  tree  tc  tree, 
Anl  the  sung  they  sang  wa&  old  Ireland  free. 

It  wa«j  earl)  in  the  night, 

The  yef)inan  cavalry  gave  me  a   right ; 

The  yeoman  cavalry  was  my  downfall, 

AikI  talien  was  I  by  Lord  Cornwall 

*Twas  in  the  guard-house  where  I  was  laid. 

And  in  a  parlour  where  I  was  tried  ; 

My  sentence  passed,  an. I  my  courage  low, 

\v  hen  to  Dung.uinon  I  was  forced  to  ig-o. 

As  I  was  passing  by  my  father's  door, 

My  brother  William  stood  at  the  door  ; 

My  aged  father  stood  at  the  door. 

And  my  tender  mother  her  hair  she  to»e. 

As  I  was  walking  up  Wexford  Street, 

My  own  fiist  cousin  I  clianced  to  meet 

My  own  first  cousin  did  me  betray, 

\nd  for  cue  bare  guiiiea  swore  my  life  avvay. 

My  sister  Mary  heard  the  express. 

She  ran  up  stairs  in  her  moiirniBg  dres* 

five  hundred  guineas  I  will  lay  dowB, 

To  see  my  brother  through  Wexfor-d  t  .-wi. 

fts  I  was  walking  up  Wexford  Hill, 

Who  could  blame  me  to  cry  my  fill  ? 

I  loolsed  behind  and  I  looked  before. 

But  my  tender  mother  1  shall  ne'er  se©  more. 

<^s  1  was  mounted  on  the  platform  high, 

My  a^ed  father  was  standing  by 

My  a^ed  father  did  me  deny, 

\nd  ti»e  name  he  g^7c  me  was  the  Cro^jpy  "B^. 

It  was  in  Dungannoa  this  young. maa  died. 

And  in  Dunganfioa  hih  body  lies  ; 

All  you  gooil  Christiaus  that  do  pa«s  by^ 

Just  drop  a  tear  for  tli«  CroppyjBoy.^ 


YOUNG 

tiliDled  by  J.  Catnach,  2  and  3,  Monmouth  Court, 
Seven  Diai^ 

AS  I  was  walking  through  the  comity  of  Cavaii 
All  for  to  Tiew  the  sweet  charms  of  life, 
There  1  beheid  a  most  clever  woman. 

She  appeared  to  me  like  an  angel  bright. 

I  eaid,  Fair  maiden,  now  could  \ou  fancy, 
All  for  to  be  a  young  sailor's  bride ; 

Says  she.  Kind  sir,  1  would  rather  tarry. 
For  1  choose  to  live  a  single  life. 

I  said,  Fair  maiden,  v. hat  makei  you  differ 
From  all  the  rest  of  your  female  kind  ? 

For  you  are  youthful,  both  fair  and  handsome 
All  for  to  wed  me  pray  be  inclined. 

Says  she.  Kind  sir,  if  I  must  tell  you,  j 

I  have  been  married  five  years  ago, 

Uoto  one  Riley,  all  in  this  country  : 
n  is  he  thai  proved  my  overthrow. 

He  was  a  young  man  of  haadsome  fortune, 
lie  courted  me  both  night  and  day. 

Until  he  had  my  favouis  tained  : 

He  left  this  country  and  fied  from  nte. 

I  says.  Fair  maiden,  come  let  us  travel 
Ubtosome  far  and  some  distant  shore, 

Then  we'll  sail  over  to  Pennsylvania, 
And  bid  adieu  to  Uiley  for  everiuoie. 

If  1  should  go  to  Peni  sylvania, 

0*  if  1  should  go  to  some  distant  shore, 

Why  my  foor  heart  would  be  always  aohio^. 
For  my  young  Uiley,  whom  1  adore. 

It  b  youthful  folly  makes  young  folks  ii-orry 

And  when  wt'rf  bound  we  mutt  obey; 
What  can't  t«  cured  ninst  be  endured  : 
So  farev*;/  *»>'  till  another  day 


Forget  not  your 


I^OllGET  not  your  soldier,  he'll   ne'er  for- 
-■-  get  you, 

Whatever* his  misfortunes  niuy  be, 
By  the   wutch-fire  bright,  in  each  planet  of 

That  beautiful  face,  love,  iie'll  see.   (night, 
The'  he  sleep  on  the  heath,  in  his  dreams, 
thy  dear  form, 

Enraptured  his  fanty  will  vien-, 
Then  oh  !   for  the  love  which  is  entered  a- 
bove,  (get  you. 

Forget  not  your  soldier  !—  he'll  ne'er  for- 

The  wine-cup  shall  never  be  raised  to  this 
lip, 
Till  warmed  with  a  prayer  to  thy  name, 
Thro'  the  terrible  fight,  like  an  angel  of  light. 

Thine  image  will  lead  nie  to  fame. 
Though  I  fail  'mid  the  slain,  with  my  life's 
latest  sigh, 
Heart-broken,  I'll  bid  thee  adieu,. 
Then,  oh  !    for  the  love,  wliieli  is  entered  a- 
bove  (get  you. 

Foriiet  not   vour  soldier !- --he'll  ne'er  for- 

THE 

PIRATE8 


GOOD  bye,  my  love,  good   bye,  my  bark 
is  on  the  bay,  (of  day, 

Add  1  must  gain  Isle  Tlydra  before  the  break 
Then  weep  not  tho'  1  go  to  peril  oe'r  the  main, 
My  blood-red   flag  ere  long  shall  meet  thy  i 
gaze  again.  ! 

Hark  !   1  hear  the  signal  gun, 
Day's  bright  orb  its  course  i^as  run, 
List !   I  hear  the  signal  gun, 
Fare-the-rwell  my  lovely  one,-— 
One  kiss  I— -one  kiss  !-— Good  bye  ! 

Good  bye,  my  love,  £cc. 

The  breeze  is  blowing  trcsh,  the  crew  but 
uait  for  me,  (white  wings  I  seel 

And  yonder  like  some  wild   biid  my  bark's 

Ne'er  whisper  love  of  danger,  dry  up  that 
timid  tear,  (hour  fear. 

Thou  art  a  Pirate's  Bride, &[should  not  har- 
I  Hark  !    I  hear,  &c. 


We  have  Lived  and 
LOV'O  TOGETHER. 

J.  Catoach,  Printer,  2&.3  Monmouth-court?  Dials 

WE  have  liv'd  and  lov'd  together 
Through  many  changing  years, 
We  have  shar'd  each  others  gladness, 

And  wept  each  other  tears. 
1  have  never  known  a  sorrow, 

That  was  long  unsoothed  by  thee 
For  thy  smile  can  make  a  summer, 

Where  daikness  else  would  be. 
Like  the  leaves  that  fall  around  us, 

In  Autumn  s  fadii.g  hours  ; 
Are  the  traitor  smiles  t^ui.  darken, 

When  the  cloud  of  aOirow  low'rs. 
And  though  many  such  we've  known,  love, 

For  prone,  aias  !   to  range  ; 
We  both  can  speak  of  one,  love, 

AVhom  time  could  never  change. 

We  have  liv'd  and  lovM  together, 
Through  many  changing  years  : 
We  have  shar'd  each  others  gladness 

And  wept  each  others  tears. 
And  let  us  hope  tlie  future, 

As  the  past  hath  been,  will  be, 
will  share  with  thee  ihy  sorrows, 
And  thou  t'-y  joys  AJth  n^e^ ^ 


THE 
J.  Catuacli,  Printer,  2,  Monmouth-court,  7  Diote. 

HE  leiipM  into  tlie  ])oat 
As  it  lay  upon  the  strand; 
But  oh!  his  heart  was  far  away, 

Witli  IViends  upon  the  land, 
1  le  (houii:ht  of  those  he  lovM  the  bent, 

A  wife,  an  infant  dear, — 
Ami  feeliniz;  fiU'd  the  Sailor's  l)reast, 
Tlie  Sailor's  eye, — a  tear. 

They  stood  upon  the  far  off  cliif. 

And  wuv'd  a'kercliiefwhite. 
And  ij.iz'd  upon  his  iz:a11ant  bark, 

'Tdl  she  was  out  of  sii^ht. 
The  Sailor  cast  a  look  behind. 

No  longer  saw  them  near. 
Then  rais'd  the  canvass  to  his  eye, 

And  wiped  away  a  tear. 

Ere  Ion":  o'er  ocean's  l)lue  expanse, 

His  stardy  bark  had  sped  ; 
The  ijallant  Sailor  from  her  prow, 

Descrie<l  a  sail  a-head  ; 
And  then  he  rais'd  his  mii(hty  arm, 

For  Britain's  foes  were  near. 
Ay  then  he  raised  his  arm,  but  not 

To  wipe  away  a  tear. 

Home,  Love,  is  Home,  be  it 
ever  so  homely. 

AH  !  why.  should   my  dearest    his 
quiet  endanger.  (stranger? 

To  quit  a  good  home  for  the  land  ol  the 
Nor  greatness  nor  wealth  for  its  loss  can 
repay  thee,  (tray  thee. 

And  restless  ambition  may  lure  to  he- 
Then  stay  with  thy  wife  and  thy  child- 
ren so  comely,  (homely. 
For  home,  love,  is  home,  be  it  ever  so 

If  scorn'd  or  forsaken,  thy  proud  heart 

is  swelling,  (tive  dwelling. 

Far  away  wilt  thou  think  of  thy  own  na- 
What  scene  like  the  meadows  cnrich'd 

with  thy  labours, 
What  friends  more  sincere  than  thy  tew 

honest  neiglibours,  (comely?  — 
Thy  kind  little  wife,  &  thy  children  so 
And  home,  love,  is  home,  be  it  ever  so 

homely. 


Till': 


S  O  L  D  I  E  R'S 

«f  4*  4*  4*  4*-  4<"  4^  if  if  4^4*  4^  4*-  4^  ^f  4* 

J.  Catuadi,  Printer,  2,  Monmouth. sonri,  7  l)i.\l«. 


im> 


irTPONthehillheturn'd, 
^LJ       To  take  a  last  fond  look. 
Of  the  valley  and  the  village  church, 

And  the  cottage  by  the  brook, 
Helisten'd  to  the  sounds, 

So  familiar  to  his  ear; 
And  the  Soldier  leant  upon  his  sword 

And  wiped  away  a  tear. 

}ie*^ide  that  cottage  porch, 

A  girl  was  on  her  knees. 
She  held  aloft  a  snowy  scarf, 

Which  fluttered  in  the  breeze ; 
Stjebreath'd  apray'r  for  him, 

A  pray'r  he  could  not  hear. 
But  he  paus'd  to  bless  her  as  sl>e  knelt 

And  wiped  away  a  tear. 

He  turn'd  and  left  the  spot,. 

Ah  !  do  not  deem  hini  weak, 
For  dauntless  was  the  soldier's  heart, 

'^riio  tears  was  on  his  cheek. 
Go  watch  the  foremast  ranks 

In  danger's  dark  career, 
Be  sure  tJie  hand  most  daring  there, 

Has  wiped  awa      tear. 


'  wjiimtr^i.  I  'iiff  iM  i  i '  'iuttU 


March,  for  the  Iled,&c. 

Sung  by  Madame  \'estris. 

Ci^AN'  Doimuil   conic  arise  with   Dirk 
and  Claymore, 
tiather  from  Lochaher  glen,  (store. 

Come  into  the  liowlands  your  freedom  re- 
MacDoiinuil  come  down  with  your  men. 
Ye  have  slept  the  lonsr  sleep  of  desjmir, 

Ynnr  ancient  briaht  (jlories  renew. 
Oh  think  what  you've  been,    behold  what 
you  are. 
And  fight  for  the  red  and  the  blue. 

March  with  tiie  red  nnd  blue, 
March  with  the  re-'  and  blue. 
Gather  Clan  Donnuil  be  staunch  &  be  trua 
And  figUt  for  the  red  and  the  blue. 

Clan  Donnuil  come  arise  your  Prince  needs 
your  arm. 
Gather  with  hearts  ye  will  ken, 
Th«»'  Mac  Cnnnuil  has  left  you  why  need 
you  alarm, 
Mac  Donnuil  come  down  with  your  men 
And  now  the'  out-nuniber'd  ye    e, 

\o  regions  your  rights  shall  subdue. 
For  conquest  shall  wait  on  the   bold  and 
the  free, 
Wlio  fight  witli  the  red  and  the  blue. 
March  with  the  red  and  blue  &c. 


The  Braes  of  Vat-row 

THE    sun  just   glancing  through  the 
frees, 
'      Gave  light  and  joy  to  ilka  prove. 
And  pleasure  in  esicli  southern  breeze, 
Awaken'd  hope  and  slnmb'ring  love. 
When  Jenny  snng  with  hearty  glee. 

To  charm  her  winsome  narrow. 
My  bonny  laddie  gang  wi'  me. 
We'll  o'er  the  braes  of  Yarrow. 
•Young  Sandy  was  the  blythest  swain 

That  ever  pip'd  on  broomy  brae  ; 
.  Nae  lass  could  ken  him  free  frae  pain, 
Sae  graceful,  kind,  sae  fair,  and  gay. 
And  Jenny  sun£^,  &c. 
•  He  kiss'd  and  lov'd  the  bonny  inaid. 
Her  sparkling  e'en  had  wok  his  heart.. 
No  lass  the  youth  had  e'er  betray'd, 
No  fears  had  she,  the  lad  no  art. 
And  Jenny  sung,  &C4 


TOM    STARBOARD 

AM) 

liis  faitliliil  %aiK 

J.  Catuacli,  Piiutei,  C,  MoumoHtli-Coiiit, 

'^■^(JM  Stui  board  was  a  JoTer  trne. 

As  brave  a  tar  as  ever  fail'd,  / 

'llie  (.liilk's  able.st  seanieii  do, 

Ton»  iM.  and  never  yvX  had  lail'd  ; 
But  wreck'd  as  he  was  h^wuewiwd  bound, 

W  ithin  a  league  ol*  hliiglaiid's  coast. 
Love  savM  hliii  sure  tVcmi  being  drown'd, 

Tov  all  the  crew  but   I'oui  were  lost. 

His  streui;tli  leslor'd,  Toiu  hied  with  baste. 

True  U>  bis  love  as  e'er  wan  iiiaii ; 
Nought  had  he  savM,  iwHiglu  dUl  he  need, 

liidi  he  ill  thought  oi  lovely  Nau, 
iiut  scayie  live  miles  pcxw  Toim  had  got 

W  lieu  he  was  ^vress'^d  :  he  lieav'd  u  sigh. 
And  said,  though  cvuel  was  his  lot, 

Ere  tiiiich  tram  duly  he  woiiKI  die. 

In  tight  Tom  Starboard  knew  no  fear,. 

Nay,  when  he  lost  his  arm,  resigu'd 
Said,  love  for  Nau,  his  mily  dear. 

Had  sav'd  his  life,  and  fate  was  kind.. 
The  war  being  eiuled^Tom  returu'd. 

His  lost  limb  serv^i  him  for  a  joke. 
For  still  his  maiily  bosom  buru'^d, 

Witli  love  his  heart  wa^lieart  of  oak. 
Ashore  m  haste  Tom  nimbly  ran. 

To  cheer  liis  love,  his  destin'd  b.»ide  y 
But  false  report  had  brought  to  Na'fi> 

Six  months  before  that  Tom  bacf.  died. 
With  grief  she  daily  pin'd  away. 

No  remedy  her  life  could  save  j 
And  Tom  arrived  the  very  day 

Tiiey  laid  his  Nancy  in  the  <rraVC» 


TIIK 

EVENING   STAR. 

J.  Catnach,  Printer,  Monmouth-CoiirL 


WHEN   the  eTeiiii»g  star  is  peeping. 
Over  every  vale  aird  dell  ; 
Then  we  fairies  watch  are  keeping, 

lu  the  tiew-clad  tiow'rets  bell. 
When,  the  mevry  chimes  are  ringing, 

Wbe-n.  ihe  ujooaj.  shines  ou  the  lake, 
lljew  ouK  voices  tmieful  singing. 
Steal  Like  magic  thiougU  the  bra>ke, 

Wher>  the  dew  drops  from  the  flower. 

When  the  sun  sinks  in  the  west ; 
Whei»  at  9-ilent  midnight  hour, 

All  the  biusy  world's  at  rest  j 
Then  we  roiwn  at  large  with  pleasure^ 

l'riskii>^  in  the  nwjon  beams  gleam^ 
To  the  kiie''9  soft  dulcet  measure, 

NeuK  lliie  tippling  silver  streaip.. 


:»v. 


^m^ 


The  Maid  of  LaiJs:oIleH. 


THO'  lowly  my  lot,  and  tho'  poor  my  estate, 
I  see  without  envy  the  wealthy  and  great ; 
Contented  and  proud  a  poor  shepherd  to  be, 
Wbile  the  maid  of  LangoUen  smiles  sweetly  on 


Mv  way  o'er  the  moimtain  I  cheerfully  take. 
At'  morn,  when  the  song  birds  their  melody 

make  ; 
And  at  eve  I  return  with  a  heart  full  of  glee. 
For  the  maid  of  LangoUen  smiles  sweetly  on  in 

Glennarwn's  rich  lord  passes  scornfully  by. 
But  wealth  can  ne'er  make  hira  so  happy  as  I .; 
And  prouder  than  ever  the  proudest  I'll  be, 
Whilfc  the  maid  of  Langollea  smiles  sweeti^ 


■mwz 


...•A»  *"*'-. 


J 


^■»M^.-.^»HI1IIHH|II  II  M^IM 


'^!M^'i^ 


^  j^m:  ,2^:  :^f^  :^^  :^^  ^^E^  ^^^ -^^ -^^  .^^  ^^^T-!^^' 


THE  WILD  IRISH  HOWL:  OR 
lock-jaw  D  PAPIST. 

^^OMB  all  ye  boW  Englislimen,  Protestanls  triiQ, 


Sworn  focvsto  the  Pope,  and  his  blood-thirsty  cre\jr, 
iTl  sing  you  a  Protestant  dilty,  quite  new. 
So  here's  to  Old  England,  fcr  ever. 
Our  Ghurch,  Kiiiff,  and  rreedora,  huzza. 

'Tig  flf  3  great  Imttermllk  bnlly  of  fame, 
A  fv--  ••j'ling  blind  Papist,  O'Connoll  his  name, 
'^  fistuHt  int'rest  he'd  set  in  a  flame, 

^utwe  oare  not  a  figfor  O'Couuell, 
'g  bi>gaboo,  Croppy  lie  down. 

,  only  inajceme  n  member  for  Clare, 
"B  how  the  OM  St.  Stephen's  wHl  stftte, 

•hall  be  gentlemen  all,  1  declare, 
'hen  down  goes  the  Church  of  Old  England, 
.nd  us  Papists  triumphant,  hnxxa. 

Protestants  yield  unto  iis  in  content, 
veui  ....idlords  no  more  will  be  leaxing  for  rent. 
But  bring  you  hot  joints  every  day  during  I,eni, 

Stand  out  of  the  way  then,  for  Paddy, 

Now  is  Mr.  Pat's  high  holiday. 

Then  Pat's  breeches  no  more  shall  be  out  at  the  ltnee«. 
He'll  then  be  a  gentleman,  quite  at  his  case, 
For  MATE  and  paratkes  shall  grow  on  the  trees. 

And  the  rivers  of  Ireland  shall  flow,  then. 
With  buttermilk,  whiskey,  and  tav. 

And  all  in  this  strain  of  wild  Irish  bec-baw. 
The  patriot  O'Conntell  did  cram  every  maw, 
Lull  'em  and  gull  'cm  with  whiskey  and  jaw. 

While  they  shouted  in  triumph,  O'Gonucll, 
Pope,Mas8,  and  O'Connell,  huzza. 

Now  Dan  te  come  over,  he  stares  like  a  fool, 
Because  .Johnny  Bull  receives  him  so  cool. 
For  whole  days  together  he  sits  on  the  stool. 

With  the  thick  of  his  cheek  to  his  mouth— O 
Poor  Paddy  has  got  a  lock'd  jaw. 

H«  thought,  when  his  foot  was  once  set  in  the  town. 
At  his  mighty  presence  the  Church  would  fall  down, 
The  loveliest  gem  in  our  Protestant  crown, 

And  'tis  quite  the  reverse  makes  him  dumb---0 
Poor  Paddy,  ray  honey,  looks  glum. 

Bat  the  Pope  wc  defy,  with  Dan  at  his  heels, 

Tho'  back'd  by  a  pitiful  weaver,  like  P---, 

For  Protestant  Britons,  nro  staunch,  true  a«  stecl. 

For  their  Church  and  their  King,  when  united, 

The  devil  and  Popetliey'll  defy. 

Shall  Britons  be  still,  when  their  deadliest  foe 

With  uplifted  hands  are  preparing  a  blow. 

The  King  and  the  Protestant  Faith  to  o'erthrow  ? 


No  I  arise  up  In  majesty,  Brftairi, 
Thcfriplc-crown'd  tyrant  subdue. 

Then  fill  up  a  bnniper-"Whate'er  it  may 

be. 
We'll  drink  to  the  King  and  the  Church,  on 

one  knee, 
4nd  down  with  O'Connell  nrul  bjnck  Po- 
pery, 
So  here's  Church  and  King:^  boys,  for 

ever. 
Our  Protestant  monarch,  huzza  J 

O  long  may  poor  Paddy  look  up  at  thetrce* 
li're  mate  and  pauatees  in  clusters  he'll 

see. 
Or  rivers  run  whiskey,  or  he  sit  roiil  free. 
For  the  Protestant    Church    is    yet 

standing, 
And  Dan's  got  a  plaister'd-up  jawi 


A  POPISH  OATH. 

In  the  Rebellion  in  Ireland,  in 
1 798, the  following: trill}' CimisTiAK 
oath  was  administered  to  the  mi- 
serable ignorant  rabble,  by  their 
priests  :— 

/,  A.  li.  do  solemnly  swear,  by  our 
Lord  Jcsus  Christ,  who  suffered  for 
vs,  on  the  Cross,  and  by  die  Blessed 
Virgin  Mary,  that  I  will  burn,  <Ze- 
stroy,  and  murder  all  Heretics,  up  to 
my  knees  in  Blood.  So  help  me  God  ! 

Printed    by   J.    Catiiach,    2j 

Monmouth-Court,  7 

Dials. 


w 
m 


m 
m 


m 

W 
w 

m 
W 


'^ 


THE 

LAND, 

PrMitetibyJ.Catnach,2,Monmouth-Com;t,7  Dials, 
liattledore.s,  Primers,  &c.  Sold  Cheap. 

THE  Laiui,ilie  Land,  tiie  rich  8c solid  land. 
The  hills,  and  dales,  &  fields  so  grand. 
All  till'd  with  Howers,  and  fruits,  and  trees. 
And  back'd  bv  rocks,  and  surrounded  b)-  Seas: 
It  cheers  the  heart  and  gladdens  the  eyes. 
And  like  a  sleej)ing  babe  it  lies. 
I'm  ou  the  land,  I'm  on  the  land, 
I  am  where  I  would  ever  stand, 
\\  ith  the  heavens  above,  and  die  sward  below. 
And  lOHiantic  charms  where'er  I  go, 
If  the  wind  should  arise  and  shake  the  trees, 
\Miat  matter — what  matter — I  should  sleep  at 
eate. 

I  love,  oh,  how  I  love  to  roam,' 
Amid  the  shades  of  my  native  home. 
Where  every  breeze  re-echoes  the  tale. 
Of  the  joys  I've  found  in  my  native  vale : 
And  tells  of  the  charms  I've  found  below, 
Thejoys  that  the  Sea  can  never  know. 
I  never  \Aas  on  the  open  Sea, 
But  the  Land  appear'd  more  dear  to  me. 
And  back  1  flew  to  its  shades  for  rest. 
Like  a  babe  that  seekeih  its  mother's  breast. 
As  a  mother  she  dealt  with  a  lib'ral  hand. 
For  I  was  born  on  the  rich  and  solid  land. 

The  fields  were  green,  aiKl  ripe  th^  corn. 
On  the  summer's  day  when  I  was  born ; 
The  Reapers  reap'd,  and  the  gleaners  glean'd. 
The  harvest  was  rich,  and  no  one  complained. 
And  never*was  seen  a  day  so  mild. 
As  welcom'd  to  life  the  land-born  child. 
I've  liv'd  since  then  in  domestic  life, 
Fidl  fifty  summers  without  care  or  strife. 
With  money  to  spend  and  a  power  to  roam. 
But  never  would  stray  from  my  kindred  konie 
And  Death,  whenever  he  comes  to  hand. 
Shall  come,  shall  come  on  the  rich  and  fertile 


f-'r^i^-^  ^t"'- 


BURLINGTOX  BAY.  , 

J,    Catnach,   Printer,  2,   &   3,    Momnoutli- 
court,  7  Dials. 

'T'^HE  rain  fell  in  torrents,  the  wind  whistled 
-■-  shrill, 

The  thunder  pealed  loud  from  the  cliff, 
When  with  terror  the   bosom  of  Marv  was 
filled, 
As  she  thought  on  the  fishermanis  skiff. 
In  vain  near  the  Foreland,  his  tackle  to  cast, 

Plied  Kobert — undaunted  he  lay  ; 
The,  gentlest  of  swains,  yet,  in   darins:  the 
The  noblest  of  Burlington  Bay.         (blast. 
Night  came^  not  a  moment  poor  Mary  she 
slept, 
Still  louder  the  storm  seem'd  to  roar  ; 
She  lay  and  she  trembled,  she  watched  &  she 
wept, 
And  at  morn  bent  ner  steps  to  the  shore  : 
But,  ah,  what  a  heart-rendering  sight, 

Broken  fras^mentsand  wrecks  scattered  lay 
And  amongst  them  was  Robert,  her  hope  & 
The  boldest  of  Burlington  Bay.     (dehght, 

Tartar  Tongue. 

A  PARODY  ON  THE  TARTAR  DRUM. 

ROW  thy  boat,  ray  jolly  fellow, 
You'll  be  back  in  time  to  tea, 
Should  you  see  my  wife,  dont  tell  her. 

By  any  chan^ce  "that  you've  seen  me. 
In  our  old  tap  room  I'd  meet  you. 

By  I  know  she'd  surely  come, 
(you  well  know  nought  could  greet  you 

Like  her  precious  Tartar  tongue. 
Dending  o'er  our  pipes  and  porter, 

We'lfsome  jolly  tales  unfold. 
Look  sharp  back  across  the  water, 

I'd  spend  a  sovereign  in  good  gold. 
We  advance  will  have  at  ev'ning, 

l^ots  of  songs  too  we'll  have  sung, 

ipe    and  backey  we'll  be  given. 

Since  I  scout  her  Tariar  tongue. 


Mary  le   Moor. 

As  I  stray'd  o'er  the  common  on  Cork's  rugged  border- 
While  the  dew-drops  ot'inorn  the  sweet  primrose  ar, 
1  saw  a  poor  female,  whose  mental  disorder,  (ray'd^ 

Her  qiiick-glancing  eye  and  wild  aspect  betray'd; 
On  the  sward  she  reclin'd,  by  the  green  fern  surounded. 
At  he   side  speckled  daisies  and  wild  flowers  abounded; 
To  its  inmost  recesses  her  heart  had  been  wounded ; 
He    Mghs  were  unceasing— 'twas  Mary  le  More. 
Her  charms  by  the  keen  blasts  of  sorrow  were  faded. 

Yet  the  soft  tinge  of  beauty  still  play'd  on  her  cheek; 
Her  tresses  a  wreath  of  primroses  braided. 

And  strings  of  fresh  dasics  hung  looose  on  her  neck. 
While  with  pity  I  gazed,  she  exclaim'd,  "  O  my  mothec 
See  the  blood  o"n  that  lash  !  'tis  the  blood  of  my  brother. 
They  have  torn  his  poor  flesh!— add  they  now  strip  ano" 
'Tis  Connor— the  friend  of  poor  Mary  le  Moor!"  (ther 
Though  his  locks  were  as  white  as  the  foam  of  the  ocean, 

Those  wretches  shall  find  that  my  father  is  brave ; 
'  M  V  father !'  she  cried,  with  the  wildest  emotion. 

Ail,  no  !  my  poor  father  now  sleeps  in  the  grave ! 
Thev'have  toll'd  his  death  bell,  they've  laid  the  turf  o'er 
His  whitelocks  were  bloody,  no  aidcould  restore  him;  (him^ 
He  IS  gone  !  he  is  gone  !  and  the  good  will  deplore  him. 

When  the  blue  waves  of  Erin  hid  Mary  le  More, 
A  lark,  from  the  gold  blossom'd  furze  that  grew  near  her. 

Now  rose,  and  with  energy  carroll'd  his  lay; 
*  Hush  !  hush !  she  continued, '  the  trumpet  sounds  clearer. 

The  horsemen  approach  !  Erin's  daughter's  away! 
Ah  !  soldiers,  'twas  foul,  while  the  cabin  was  burning. 
And  o'er  a  pale  father  a  wretch  had  been  mourning--- 
Go  hide  with  the  sea-mew,  ye  maids,  and  take  warning. 

Those  rutfianshave  ruin'd  poor  Mary  le  More 
Away!  oring  the  ointment---0,  God  !  see  the  gashes ! 

Alas !  my  poor  brother !  come  dry  the  big  tear  . 
Anon  we'll  have  vengeance  for  those  dreadful  lashes-  - 

Already  the  screech-owl  and  raven  appear. 
By  day  the  green  grave,  that  lies  under  the  willow, 
"With  wild  flow'rs  I'll  strew,  and  by  night  make  my  pillow,* 
Till  the  ooze  and  dark  sea-weed,  beneath  the  curl'd  billow. 

Shall  furnish  a  death-bed,  for  M«ry  le  More  !* 
ThuB  raved  tne  poor  maniac^  in  t©nes  more  heart^rendisj 

Than  sanity's  voice  ever  ponr'd  on  my  ear  ; 
When  lo  I  on  the  waste,  &  the  march  towards  her  bending 

A  troop  of  fierce  calvary  chanced  to  appear. 
*  O  the  fiends !  she  exclaimed,  &  with  wild  horror  starle<?—  e 
Then  through  the  tall  fern,  loudly  scream  ng,  she  darted 
Witn  an  overcharifed  bosom  I  slowly  A«part«« 
V  1  »    bi  Mi:i    'd  ior  the  wrvgn   o\  pp.f>«  MaryleMei* 


Love  in  a  Cottage  for  Me. 

r\^l  '•  the  flip  of  a  city  with  poor  little  lore 

^     I'm  certain  will  never  agree  : 
He'll  $is;h  fur  the  hill,  and  the  vale,  aad  the 

i»o,  love  in  a  cottage  for  me  !         (grove. 
He'll  pine  if  confined  to  a  square  or  a  street 

Anfl  look  round  for  an  evergreen  tree  ; 
Then  s;ive  me,  oh  !  give  me  a  rural  retreat, 

<_)h  !  love  in  a  cottas^e  for  n»e ! 

I  vers-  inudi  fear  love  loses  io  town, 

In  heart,  what  he  gaiiiS  in  ex/irit  ; 
And  tiie  form  that  he  do^its  upon  most  is  his 

So,  love  in  a  pottage  for  me  !  (own, 

I'll  rove  with  my  love  in  the  path  by  the  lake, 

( )n  the  s;m<ls  tliHt  are  wash'd  V)V  I  he  sea  , 
And  r  ll  give  up  all  eUe  in  the  world  for  his 

So,  love  in  a  cottaj^e  for  me !  (sake; 

Hurnih  for  the  Iload. 

TJURRMI  o'er  HwuiiKlow-healb  to  roam, 

-'*■      Hurrah  for  the  stilly  hi>ur, 

When  tile  moon  looks  pale  frniu  her  lofty 

A*  a  maid  from  her  battle  tower.  (d:>nie. 
When  sparksottirc  from  my  corsair's  steed 

Spring  flashing  at  etery  gnad  ; 
And  the  di<>tniit  sound  of  wlie«U  f  greet. 

Then  hurrah,  Uurrah  for  the  roaU. 

Mtirrah,  &c. 

Stop,  stop's  the  word,  all  dread  to  hear. 

Your  gold  and  your  gems  resign  : 
When  tny  pistols  cocked  and  my  looks  severe 

For  a  desperate  life  is  mine. 
How  ladies  scream,  how  with  rage  meo  glow 

While  their  purses  1  unload ; 
Then  I  cry  good  night  with  a  smile  and  a  bow 

And  hurrah,  hurrah  for  the  road. 

What  mirtli  atjovial's  house  of  call, 

O'er  wine-cup  our  deeds  to  tell  ; 
To  forget  one  day,  we  must  pay  for  all. 

And  swing  high  to  the  dismal  bell. 
Remarsc  too  late  this  despised  heart. 

Why  with  dungeon  fetters  bode  ; 
With  courage  I've  lived,  so  with  life  I'll  part 

Then  hurrah,  hurrah,  for  the  road. 

Bessy,  the  Sailor's  Bride. 

T)OOR  Bessy  was  a  sailor's  bride, 

■^       And  lie  was  otT  to  sea. 

Their  only  child  was  by  ttieir  side, 

And  wlio  so  sad  as  she  ? 
'  Forget  me  not,  forget  me  not. 

When  you  are  far  from  me. 
And  whalHoe'er  poor  Bessy's  lot, 

Siie  will  remember  thee.' 

A  twelvemonth  scarce  hud  past  away, 

As  it  WHS  told  to  me. 
When  Willy  with  a  gladsome  heart. 

Came  home  again  from  sea. 
He  hounded  up  the  craggy  path, 

And  sought  his  cottage  door, 
But  his  poor  wife,  and  lovely  child, 

Poor  Willy  saw  no  more. 

•  Forget  me  no  I,  forget  me  not,' 

The  words  rung  in  his  ear. 
He  asked  the  neighbours  one  by  one, 

Each  answered  with  a  tear. 
They  pointed  to  the  old  church  yard. 

And  there  his  youthful-bride, 
With  the  pretty  child  he  loved  so  well, 

Wrre  resting  side  by  side. 


TVhena  Little  Farm  we  Keep. 

He  \1|7^^^  *  '*"'«  ^^"^  ^e  keep, 

%'y       And  have  little  girls  and  boys. 
With  little  pigs  and  sheep. 

To  make  a  little  noise. 
Oh,  what  happy  merry  days  we'll  see 

Site.     Then  we'll  keep  a  little  maid. 
And  a  little  man  beside, 
And  a  little  horse  and  pad. 

To  take  a  little  ride, 
With  the  children  sitting^  on  our  knee 
H:     The  boys  I'll  conduct. 
She.    The  girls  I'll  instruct. 
He,     In  reading  I'll  engage, 

Eah  son  is  not  deficient; 
She.    In  music,  I  presage. 

Each  girl  is  a  proficient. 

He.     Now,  boy,  your  B  A — BA, 

Sht.    Now,  girl,  your  solfa. 

{Here  she  it  supposed  to  teach  a  girl  to  sing^ 

kW  Ac  to  teach  a  boy  to  read,  by  telling  kirn 

little  stones.) 

Beth.    When  a  little  farm  we  keep. 

And  have  little  girls  and  boys 
With  little  pigs  and  sheep. 
To  make  a  little  noise. — 
Oh,  what  happy  merry  days  we'll  see 

The  Sailor's  Tear. 

HE  leap'd  into  the  boat. 
As  it  lay  upon  the  strand ; 
But  oh  I  his  heart  was  far  away, 

With  friends  upon  the  land, 
He  thought  of  those  he  lov'd  the  best, 

A  wife,  an  infant  dear, — 
And  feeling  fill'd  the  Sailor's  breast. 
The  Sailor's  eySj— a  tea^, 

Thiy  s'ood  (ipon  the  far  off  cliff, 

And  wnv'd  a  'kirchief  white, 
And  s:rz(|  upon  his  gHllant  baik, 
^    'Till  she  was  oul  of  siifht. 
The  SHilor  cast  a  look  behind, 
•ru^°  '"."'?*^'"  saw  liiem  near. 
Then  rais'd  the  canvass  to  his  eye, 
And  wi|itd  axvay  a  tear. 

Ere  Ion?  o'er  ocean's  blue  expanse, 

His  stardy  l,nrk  had  sped  ; 
ihr gallant  Sailor  tVoiii  her  prow, 

Descrifd  a  sail  a-head; 
And  then  he  rais'd  his  mighty  arm. 

For  Biitain's  foes  were  near. 
Ay  then  he  raised  his  arm,  hut  not 
To  wipe  away  a  tear. 


I 


Oh  the  Moment  was  Sad, 

OH    the  riioment  was  sad  when  my  love 
and  I  parted, 
Savourna  d^iisU  shij^^hna  oh  ! 
As  I  kiss'd  off  her  tears,    I   was  ni^h  bro- 
ken hearted, 
Savourna  delish  shighna  oh! 
Wan  was  her  cheek,    which   bung  on  rw 

shoulder. 
Damp  was  her  hand,  no  marble  was  colder 
I  felt  that  I  never  again  should  behold  her- 
Savourna  delish  shighna  oh  !  ' 

When  the  word  of  command  put  our  men 
into  motion, 
Savourna,  &c. 
I  buckled  my  knapsack  to  cross  the  wide 
ocean, 
Savourna,  &c. 
Brisk  were  our  troops,    all  roaring  like 
thunder,  [plunder  ; 

Pleas'd  with    the  voyage,    impatient   for 
My   bosom   with    grief    was  almost  torn 
asunder, 
Savourna,  &c. 

Long  I  fought  for  my  ceuntry,  far  from 

my  true  love, 
Savourna,  &c. 
All  my  pay  and  my  booty  I  hoarded  for 

you  love, 
Savourna,  &c. 
Peace  was  proclaimed,  escap'd  from   the 

slaughter,  (her  ; 

Landed  at  home,  my  sweet  girl  I  sought 
But  sorrow,  alas !  to  her  cold  grave  had 

brought  her.      Savourna,&c. 

Some  Love  to  Rwam. 

^^Viu    '"''.'"7»"'  "'erthedark  *ca  f«nm 

»lierr  the  »(,r„l  uiii«|«  whittle  trr.- 
"Mt  a  ol...,ie„  |,a,„l  in  the  moiiHialii  land. 

"Ii.u    ...ornms    hrains    i.,    the    «.o„ntain 
Oh  !    merrily  f..ith  «e  -o,  (■,frr..u 

Ar.d  to  elus    the  boundins  r..e. 

Vt  b«,  je  ho,  &o. 
The  d.cr  we  mark,  in  the  f«re«t  dark 
Ai.d  (he  prowlinK  w«lf  ,»«  Irark, 
A.*l  our  ri^l.t  g„,„|  chc-«r  i>  the  wild  wood 
Oh,  ,vhx  shHuld  the  hunter  I   ck  ?         (here 
»  iih  si,  ady  Him  ai  lUe  bo.iB.liujj  g«,„i.       ' 
Vid  a  I.enrt  lhatfear«n«foe- 

C>1?-"1»  ''  '^l**';"  «  if'"'"*^  i"  H««^  forest  shade, 
«»i.  !    merrily  forth  «e  g„,  Ve  ho,  &o. 


^ 


LOVE 

LIES  ASLEEP  IN  THE 

R  O  8  E. 

J.  Catnach,  Printer  2, Monmouth  Coiwt. 

TH  E  lady-bird  skims  o'er  the  wood- 
bine, 

Tlie  bees  in  the  Hly  repose, 
The  summer  fly  rests  on  the  cowsHp, 

But  love  lies  asleep  in  the  rose. 
The  rose  is  the  casket  of  Cupid, 

His  spell  from  its  redoline  flows, 
Beware  of  the  hand  that  [wesents  it, 

For  love  lies  asleep  in  the  rose. 
The  lady-bird  flaunts  from  your  presence 

The  bee  thrills  your  lip  with  a  smart 
The  summer  fly  fluttei*s  around  you, 

But  love  plants  a  thorn  in  the  heart. 
The  rose  is  the  casket  of  Cupid, 

Its  perfumes  with  soft  magic  flows, 
Let  the  hand  of  affection  present  it, 

For  love  lies  asleep  in  the  rose. 


J.     X\    IJ     1      1      1 


TAB 


OF    THE    NIGHT. 


J.  Catnacli,  Printer,  2,  Moninouth-court,  7 
Dials. 


THE  daylight  has  long   been   s:ink  unc^er 
the  billow, 
And  Zephyr  its  absence  is  mourning  in  sighs, 
Then   quickly,    my  dearest,    aiise    iVoiu  your 
pillow. 
And  make  the   night  day  with  the  light  of 
your  eyes. 
That  fairer  than  yon  no  one  ever  may  prove. 
The  bright  mould    that  form'd  you  they've 
broken  my  love. 
And  now  you  alone  can  your  image  renew. 
Then  Oh!  for  creation's  sake,  rise  dearest  do. 
The  day  light  has  long  been  sunk,  &c. 

Pretty  star   of  my  soul!      Heaven's    stars   all 
outshining, 
Sweet   dream  of  my  slumbers  !     Ah,  k)ve, 
pray  you  rise  ? 
EtKhantress!  all  hearts  in  your  fetters  entwin- 
ing. 
To  my  ears  you  are  music  and  light  to  my 
eyes. 
To  my  anguish  you're  balm,  to  my  j)leasure8 
you're  bliss, 
To  my  touch  you  are  joy,  there's  the  world 
in  your  kiss  ; 
XXiy  is  not  day  if  your  presence  I  miss  ; 

Ab  I  no,  'tis   a  niglrf  cold  and  moonle««  as 
this. 
Pretty  star  of  my  soul,  &c. 


'^. 


K 

' 

I 

^A_ 

k*.'i"' ""'""' '"" '■■'?"""'""■"""•:'?,"?■■!"'"■?!.''/        "*     »:"!!»     fi-^lj 

Fannv  Blair. 

J.  Catnach, Printer,  2, Monmouth' court, 

7  Dialf). 

COME  all  you  yonng  females  where 
everyoulie,  (jury, 

Beware  of  false  swearing  and  all  sad  per 
For   by  a  younw  female  Tm   wounded 
full  soon,  (my  bloom. 

You  see  I  am  cut  down  in  the  height  of 

Last  Monday  morning  as  I  lay  on  my  bed 
A  young  man  come  to  me  &  these  words 

he  said,  (were. 

Rise  up  Thomas  Hegan  &  fly  you  else 
Fw  vengeance  is  sworn  you  by  young 

Fanny  Blair. 

Young  Fannv  Blair  she's  Eleven  years 

old,   ' 
And  as  1  must  die  the  truth  I'll  unfold, 
1  never  had  dealings  with  her  in  my  time 
Its  a  hard  thing  to  die  for  another  man's 

crime. 
The  day  of  my  trial  Squire  Vernon  was 
there,  (Miss  Blair, 

And  on  the  green  table  they  handed 
Falseoathsshcs  a  swearing  I'm  asham- 
ed for  to  tell. 
Till  at  length  the  Judge  cries  your  mo- 
thers tutored  you  well. 
Ttie  day  that  Hegan  was  doomed  to  die 
Tiie  people  rose  up  with  a  murmuring 
cry,  (ly  has  swore. 

If  we  catch  her  we'll  crop  her,  she  false- 
Young  Hegan  dies  innocent  we  are  all 
certain  sure. 

There  is  one  thing  more  which  I  beg  of 
my  friends,  (themselves, 

To  take  me  in  Bloomfield  one  night  by 

And  bury  my  body  in  Mary-le-Mould. 

And  I  hope  that  the  great  God  will 
paidon  my  soul. 


Poor  Little' 


S  W  E  E  P. 


J.  Catnach,  Printer,  London. 

Sold  by  Marshall,  Bristol,  &  James  Sbarman,  Cambridge 

ON  a  cold  winter's  morn  as  the  snow  was  a  fall- 
ing. 
When  a  child  of  misfortune  so  loudly  was  bawling 
Sweep  oh!  he  cries  for  the  snow  is  very  deep, 
So  1  pray  take  compassion  on  a  poor  little  sweep. 
Tears  from  his  eyes  in  large  drops  were  fast  falling 
You  noted  for  pity  whose  hearts  have  controuling 
You  men  of  discerning  who  are  not  yet  asleep. 
Don't  you  hear  the  sad  wailing  of  a  poor  little  sweep 

He  contmued  to  cry  but  no  strangers  to  pity, 
But  they  laugh'd  at  his  grief  while  they  banter'd 

his  dftty. 
Oft  times  they  forwarned  him  a  distance  to  Keep, 
And  he  cry'd  take  compassion  on  a  poor  little  sweep 
At  the  steps  of  a  door  half  frozen  and  dejected. 
He  set  there  to  mourn  his  complaints  were  neg- 
lected. 
Till  a  kmd  hearted  damsel  by  chance  saw  him  weep 
And  her  heart  bled  with  sorrow  for  the  poor  little 

sweep. 
She  took  his  cold  hand  to  a  neighbours  she  led  him 
Warm'd  his  Umbs  by  the  fire  &  tenderly  fed  him. 
But  ah  how  surprised  with  joy  did  she  weep. 
When  she  found  a  lost  brother  in  poor  little  sweep 
Long  time  did  she  ga/e  on  each  sutty  blackfeature 
To  her  bo  jom  she  pressed  and  said  thou  sweetcre.?- 

ture, 
I'll  haste  t    ott£  bomc  you  no  longer  shall  weep 


<f 


THE  VILLAGE  BEAUTY, 


See  ihe  star-breasted  villain  to  yonder  cot  bound. 

Where  the  sweet  honey-suckle  entwines  it  around. 
Yet  sweeter,  far  sweeter  than  flower  e'er  seen. 

Is  the  poor  hedirer's  daughter,  the  pride  of  the  green ! 
But  more,  never  more,  will  she  there  please  all  eyes. 

Her  peace  of  mind  withers,  her  happiness  flies  ! 
She  pauses,  siglii^  trembles  I — and  yet  dares  to  roam. 

The  villaj^e-born  beauty,  seduced  from  her  home. 

From  a  post-chaise  and  four,  she's  in  London  get  down. 
Where,  robbed  of  her  virtue,  she's  launched  on  the  town ; 

Her  carriajfe,  her  servants,  and  jewels  so  gay. 
Tell  how  she  i*  kept,  and  o'er  all  bears  the  sway  ! 

At  the  Opera, — the   Playhouse, — the   Parks,  and  els«. 
where, 
Her  beauty  out-rivals  each  beauty  mat's  there  ; 

And  while,  big  with  envy,  her  downfill  they  tell. 
The  village-born  beauty  o'er  all  bears  ttie  bell. 

But  soon  \Vom  indifference,  caprice,  or  what  not, — 
She's  turned  on  the  world,  by  her  keeper  forgot ; 

Yet  fond  to  be  flattered,  and  fettered  in  vice, 
rihe's  this  man's  or  that  as  becomes  to  her  price  ! 

At  length,  growing  stale,  all  her  finery  sold, 
In  the  bloom  of  her  youth  through  disease  looking  old  : 

Forsook  by  her  lovers,  and  sous-ht  for  no  more, 
The  village-born  beauty  becomes  a  street  w — 

.'Up  lanes  and  through  alleys  she  now  stalks  her  way, 

Kxposed  to  all  weathers,  by  ni<ilit  and  by  day  ; 
Cohl,  houseless,  and  shiv'ring,  and  wet  to  the  skin, 

With  glass  alter  glass  drowns  her  sorrows  with  gin  ! 
Distressed,  sore,  and  ragged,  sad,  friendless,  and  poor, 

She's  borne  to  some  garret,  or  work-house  obscure ! 
Breathes  a  prayer-hope  to  Heaven, — a  sinner  to  save  ! 

When  the  village-born  beauty  is  laid  in  the  grave. 

Then  pily,  ye  fair  ones,  nor  be  too  severe, 
And  give  a  frail  sister  the  boon  of  a  tear, 

When  prone  to  condemn  them,  reflect, — think  awhile — 
That  the  heart  often     bleeds   when  the  face   wears 
smile  1 

Thinic,  too  how  thro',  beauty  they  oft  owe  their  fall. 
And  what  may,  through  vice,  be  the  fate  of  you  afi. 

And  0,  while  sweet  innocence  bears  a  proud  sway, 
Mav  hell  seize  the  Yillaia  that  smiles  to  betray. 


THE  SISTER-IN-LAW. 

Attend,  my  good  friends,  and  list  to  my  rhymes, 
And  I'll  try  to  amuse  you,  and  p;tss  away  time. 
If,  you  would  know  who  I  am,  I  will  tell  you  er» 

long, 
1  am  little  Jemima,  the  sister  to  Tom. 
Who  instead  of  getting  a  husband  for  me, 
He  found  out  a  \mfe  for  himself  do  you  see, 
Who  was  such  a  beauty,  as  you  never  saw, 
So  list  while  I  tell  of  my  sister-in-law. 
In  law  — in  law— my  sister-in-law. 

Two  eyes  like  black  beetles  her  face  did  adorn, 
\nd  her  nose  it  sttick  out,  like  a  cobbler's   past« 

horn. 
And  her  teeth  white  as  coals,  washed  up  by  the  tide>. 
And  a  sweet  little  mouth,  about  twelve  inches  wide 
Her  hair  curled  like  the  tail  of  a  rat. 
With  a  hump  like  a  Camel's,  stuck  on  her  back, 
And  her  voice  is  as  sweet  as  any  jackdaw, 
Now  what  do  you  think  of  my  sister-in-law. 

And  as  for  her  learning,  she  beats  me  quite  hollow 
She  grins  like  a  donkey,  through  a  horse's  collar. 
And  her  beautiful  dancing-,  it  would  you  surprise. 
Why  she  jumps  Jim  Crow,  nearly  equal  to  Rice 
She  is  a  (iabster  at  leap-frog,  or  flying  a  kite. 
And  if  her  pals  they  offend  her,  she  is  a  devil  to 

fight,  [tatr, 

She  can  play  well  at  duckstone,  buck-ubout  or  ring- 
What  an  accomplished  woman  is  my  sister-in-law. 
Such  a  delicate  stomach  she  has  got  I  declare, 
At  her  dinner  she  drinks  only  six  pots  of  beer. 
Eats  a  .«irloin  of  beef,  and  a  bushel  of  taters. 
Nine  quarts  of  stewed  eels,  with  pickles  and  capers, 
Then  away  to  the  pastry-cook's  shop  she  will  go, 
And  wolf  saiT'siige  rolls,  till  scarce  aule  to  blow. 
Such  a  lot  of  stale  buns  she  crams  into  her  maw, 
What  a  delicate  stomach  has  my  sister-in-law. 
Then  off  to  a  free  and  easy  she  will  go. 
Where  she  swigs  half-and-half,  while  her  bacco  sbe 

blows, 
Like  an  Hottentot  Venus  she  sticks  in  the  chair, 
Where  she  knocks  down  the  songs,  yes,  and  knock 

down  the  beer. 
Then  staggers  off  home,  and  staggers  up  stairs, 
And  my  brother  she  lugs  out  of  bed  by  the  ears. 
Then  like  a  pig  m  the  mire,  she  sprawls  on  ttie 

floor,  ^ 

What  a  beautiful  creature  is  my  sister-in-law. 

One  night  as  my  brother  lay  snug  in  his  bed, 
The  chamljcr  utensil  she  threw  at  his  head, 
When  he  bolted  upright  and  these  words  he  did  say 
I  wish  that  the  devil  would  fetch  you  away. 
Wlien  a  figure  in  black,  in  the  room  did  appear, 
Saying,  I  have  come  ior  my  sister,  I  know  she  » 

here, 
Popt  her  into  his  sack  and  flew  out  of  the  door, 
i  And  that  is  the  way  I  got  rid  *)f  my  sister-in-law 


DICKEY   BIRDS 

listen  to  my  song  and  you'll  not  deny  my  words 
I'll  quickly  prove  that  all  mankind  are  nothing  more 

than  birds, 
Whether  in  the  east  or  whether  in  the  west, 
You  own  man  makes  a  study  to  feather  well  his  nest 
So  listen  to  my  song  and  you'll  not  deny  my  words 
This  world  is  but  a  nest  and  all  mankind  are  birds 

The  banker  is  a  goldfinch  which  no  one  can  deny 
The  carpenter's  a  woodcock  'tis  plain  to  you  and  I 
The  singer  is  a  nightingale  whose  sweet  notes  will 

delight. 
The  watchman  s  an  owl  'cause  he  only  sings  at  night 

Then  listen,  &c' 

The  lawyer  is  a  magpie  that'll  jaw  you  for  a  week 
Th«  magistrate's  a  snipe,   a  bird  that's  well  known  j 

by  the  beak  (be  took     who 

The  gentlewomen  for  ladybirds  of  course  they  must 
Can  deny  the  kitchen  maid  is  nearest  to  the  cook-oo 
f  he  punster  is  a  lark,  of  course  the  merry  wag  will 

follow. 
Thehighwayman'sa  robin  thedrunkard  isa  swallow 
The  negro  is  a  blackbird  as  I've  heard  many  say 
'The  parsons  are  to  eagles  like  because  they're  birds 

of  prey. 

There's  various  sorts   of  pigeons  some  nobler  and 

some  humbler 
The  old  man's  a  baldhead  the  merry  clown  a  tumbler 
The  jew  he  is  ablackbeard  as  I've  heard  many  talk 
The  alderman's  a  pouter  and  the  pedlar  but  a  hawk 

The  old  maid  is  a  parrot  that  will  chat  till  all  it  blue 
The  King  he  is  a  hearty  cock  the  sportsman  a  cock 

er  too 
A  Pirate  is  a  sea  erull  deny  it  yon  that  will 
Our  Queen  she  is  a  pelican  because  she's  got  a  bill 

The  informers  are  a  kind  of  birds  that  always   are 

entrapping  (pinfif 

The  vintner  is  a  woodpecker  because  he  lives  by  tap 
The  infant  is  a  tom  tit  and  I'll  prove  it  in    a  trice 
The  gamblers  they  are  nothing  more  than  birds  of 

pair  o  dice 
The  lovers  too  of  harmony  are  all  birds  of  a  father 
The  reason  why  I'll  quickly  prove  they  always  flock 

together  [produced 

They  love  to  guard  their  little  ones  that  nature  has 
And  then  at  night  like  other  birds  retire  all  to  roost 
So  I  think  I've  prov'd  to  you  and  yon'll  not  deny  my 

words 
ThisVorld  is  but  a  nest  &  mankind  are  only  birds 


Sprig  of   Shillalah 

O  ijove  is  the  soul  of  a  neat  Jrislmmii 

He  loves  allthe  lovely  loves  all  that  he  can 

With  his  sprig  of  phillelah  and    shamrock   so  green 

His  heart  is  goodhumour'd  'tis  hones!  and  souriil 

No  malice  or  hatred  is  there  to  be  found 

He  courts  and  he  marries  he  drinks  and  he  fights 

For  love  all  for  love  for  in  that  he  delights 

With  a  sprig  of shillelah  and  shamrock  so  green, 

Who  e'er  had  the  luck  to  see  Donnybr»ok    air 

An  Irishman  all  in  his  glory  was  there 

With  a  sprig  of  shillelah  and  shamrock  so  green 

His  clothes  spicK  and  span  new  without  ever  a  speck 

And  a  neat  Barcelona  tied  round  his  neck. 

He  goes  to  tent  and  he  spends  half  a  crown, 

He  meets  with  his  friend  and  for   love  knocks   him 

down 
With  his  sprig  of  shillelah  and  shamrock  so   green. 
At  evening  returnini?  as  homeward  he  goes 
His  heart  soft  with  whiskey  his  head  soft  with  b'ows 
With  his  sprig  of  shillelah  and  shamrock  so   green 

He  meets  with  his  Shelah  who  blushing  awhile 
Cries  get  agoiie  Pnt  and  consents  all  the  while 
To  the  priest  soon  they  goes  &  nine   months    after 

that, 
.\  fine  baby  cries  how  d'ye  do  father  Pat, 
With  yonr  sprig  of  shillelah  ani  shamrock  .«o  green 
Bless  the  country  say  1  that  gave  Patrick  his  birth 
Bless  the  hind  of  the  oak  and  its  neighbouring  earth. 
Where  grows  the  shillelah  and  shamrock  so  green 

May  the  sons  of  the   Thames    the    Tweed  and    tha 
Shanno  n  (cannon 

Drub  the  French  who  dare  plant  at  their   confines  a 
United  and  happy  at  loyalty's  shrine 
May  the  rose  and  the  thistle  long  flourish  and  twine 
Round  .he  sprig  of  shillelah  aud  shamrock  so  green. 


ISLE  OF  BEAUTY 

FARE  THEE  WELL. 

SHADES  of  evening-  close  not  o'eru^ 
Leave  our  lonelj  bark  a  while. 
Morn  alas  will  not  restore  us. 

Yonder  dim  and  distant  isle. 
Still  my  fancy  cnn  discover, 

Sunny  spots  wliere  friends  may  dwell. 
Darker  shadows  ro-und  us  hover 

Isle  of  beauty  fare  thee  well. 
Tis  the  hour  when  happy  faces. 

Smile  around  the  taper's  light. 
Who  will  fill  our  vacant  places. 

Who  will  sing-  our  songs  to-night. 
Thro*  the  mist  that  floats  above  us. 

Faintly  sounds  the  Vesper  bell. 
Like  a  voice  from  those  that  love  us. 

Breathing  fondly  fare  thee  well. 

When  the  waves  are  round  me  breaking. 

As  1  pace  the  deck  alone, 
And  my  eye  in  vair,  is  seeking, 

Some  green  leaf  to  rest  upon. 
U'hal  would  I  not  give  to  wander. 

Where  my  old  companions  dwell, 
Absence  makes  the  heart  grovir  fonder, 

^<lpi  of  beauty  fare  theo  well. 

REST,  WARRIOR  REST. 

He  comes  from  the  wars  from  the  red  field  of  fight, 
He  come>;  thro' the  storm,  andthedarknessof  night, 
For  rest  and  for  refuge  now  fain  to  implore, 
I'he  warrior  bends  low  at  the  cottager's  door  , 
rnle.paleis  his  cheek,  there's  a  gash  on  his  brow 
His  locks  o'er  his  shoulders  distractedly  flow. 
And  the  fire  of  his  heart  shoots  by  fits  from  his  eye 
Mkfc  a  languishing  lamp,  that  just  flashes  to  die. 

Rest,  warrior  rest. 
Sunk  in  silence  and  sleep,  m  the  cottager's  bed. 
Oblivion  shall  visit  the  war-weary  head, 
Fercha^ce  he  may  dream,  but  the  vision  shall  tell 
Of  his  lady-love's  bower,  and  her  latest  farewell; 
til,u,>ion  andlove  chase  the  battle's  alarms, 
lie  &l)all  dream  that  his  oiistress  lies  lock'd  in  his 
arms 

•►hall  feel  on  his  lips  the  swaet  warmth  of  her 
kiss, 

warrior  «uke  aot,  tftofa  slumber  is  bfis*! 
Ra^I   warrior  res* 


GILES  SCROGGINS- 

G  up  S  T. 

I^ILES  Scroggins  courted  Molly  Browu 

-rT  .  .  ^°^  *^^  ^'^^^^^  ^ol  de  riddle  lid» 

i  he  fairest  wenoh  in  all  the  town, 

„    ,        ,    ,  Fcl  de  ridale  lol  &c. 

He  bought  her  a  ring  with  a  posy  (rue^ 

If  you  loves  I  as  1  loves  you, 
No  knife  can  cut  our  love  in  two. 

Fal.  do  riddle  lol,  &c 

But  scissars  cut  as  well  as  Injres, 

.    J      .  Folde^ddle,  lol,  fce 

And  quite  unsartm'fi  all  our  lives, 

^.     ^       ,  Fol  de  riddle  lol,  &c. 

1  he  day  ihey  were  to  have  been  wed, 

Fate's  scissars  cut  poor  Giles'.tbread, 
So  they  could  not  be  mar-ri-ed, 

Fol  de  riddle  lol,  &c. 

Poor  Molly  laid  her  down  to  weep, 

Fol  de  riddle  lol,  &c. 
And  cried  herself  quite  fast  asleep, 

i^'ol  de  riddle  lol,  &c. 
\>  iicn  standing  fast  by  her  bed-Dost, 

A  llgure  tail  Iser  sight  engross'd. 
And  il  cried  I  he's  Giles  8croggi'*s  ghost 

Fol  de  riddU   \o\,  &c. 

The  gliost  It  said  all  solemnly, 

Fol  de  riddle  lol,  8?c 

O  Molly  you  must  go  with  rue, 

Fol  de  riddle  lol,  dn 

All  to  the  grave  your  love  to  cool. 
Says  she  i  am  not  dead  you  fool. 

Says  the  ghost  says  he  vy  that's  no  rule 
Fol  de  riddle  lol.Swi. 

The  ghost  then  seiz'd  her  all  so  grun, 

Fol  de  riddle  lol,  &c 

All  for  to  go  along  with  him, 

Folde  riddle  lol,  &g 

Come  come  said  he  e're  morning  beam, 
1  von't  Slid  she  and  scream'd  a  scream. 

Then  she  woke  and  found  she'd  dreamtn  dream 
F'ol  de  riddle  lol,  Sic. 


^' 


'IMiE 


BRIDAL    RING. 


.1  Catnach,Fnnter,2,&.3,  Aloiirnouth-couit,?  Dials. 


r 


Dreamt  last  night  of  our  earlier  clays, 
Ere  I  sigh'd  for  sword  &  feather, 
Vhen  we  danced  on  the  hill,  in  the 
moon's  pale  rays. 
Hand  in  hand  together. 
I  thought  you  gave  me  again  that  kiss, 
Mcro  sweet  than  the  perfume  of  spring 
^f  hen  I  pressed  on  your  finger  love's 
pure  golden  pledge — 
The  Bridal  Ring !  the  Bridal  Ring! 

I    dreamt  I  heard    then,  the  trumpet 
sounds 
And  at  once  was  forced  to  sever 
'[  hat  I  fell  on  the  heath  with  my  last 
Lost  to  thee  forever!  (death  wound, 
I  thought  that  you  gave  me  again  that 
kiss 
Empearled  like  a  flower  in  spring, 
Neath  its  warmth  I  awoke  on  this  dear 

hand  to  press 
The  Bridal  ilmn  !  the  Biidal  Ring  _ 


Shovel  and  Broom. 


J.   Catnach,  Printer,   2.  &   3,    Monmourti 
court.  *  Diiilv. 


TUO'  I'm  but  a  chimney-sweep  1  took  a  liiket 
To  go  on  one  evening  to  Dusty  Tom's  roon, 
Who  dancing  now  teaches — he  knows  how  to 
kick  it. 
For  which  he  hfis  quitted  the  shovel  &-  l)rroni 
For  bow  &  the  fiddIe,pouchette  down  the  niid'Ue 

He^s  quitted  for  ever  the  shovel  and  'oroum, 
The  shovel  and  broom,  the  shovel  and  broom. 
He  has  quitted  forever  the  shovel  and  broocs, 

I  got  for  my  partner,  Paulina,  the  daughter 

Of  Master  Mountsaddle,,  the  Angel  Inn  groom 
Her  red  lip  &  plump  figure  made  my  month  water 

And  I  fell  in  love  as  ve  valtz  d  round  the  room 
O,  sich  a  croatur!  my  eye,  vot  a  creatur! 

A  partner  so  fit  for  a  knight  of  the  broom  ; 
The  shovel  and  broom,  a  knight  of  the  broom, 

A  partner  so  fit  for  the  knight  of  the  broom. 
fhewhole  of  the  next  morning  I  thought  of  her 
beauties, 

And  I  my  employment  could  hardly  resume. 
Neglected,  in  fact,  my  professional  duties, 

And  valtzed  in  the  streets  as  Fd  valtzed  in  th  • 

room.  (arter. 

Till  Jack  Cragg,  the  carter,  cried,  Vot,  are  yo : 

There  twisting  about  vith  your  shovel  &  broom 
Your  shovel  &  broom,  your  shovel  and  broom, 

For  I  valtzed  in  the  mud  with  njy  shovel  and 
broom. 
Soon  after,  her  father  called  me  from  the  cellat. 

To  a  job  at  his  lodging,  a  first  floor  back  room 
As  Pauline  was  alone  there,  1  ventured  to  tell  he 

My  love— but  she  vondercd  how  I  could  pre- 
sume. 
In  the  sphere  I  was  moving  to  talk  about  loving 

Aud  she  turned  up  her  nose  at  the  shovel 
broom, 
My  shovel  and  broom,  my  shovel  and  broum. 

She  turned  up  her  nose  at  ray  shovel  &  broom 
To  implore  her,  1  fell  on  my  knees,  but  by  Gemini 

She  spurned  me,  &  quitted  the  room  in  a  fura 
So  bewilder'd  was  I,  when  my  boy  left  tke  clvrm 

ofiy» 
I  caird  him  Pauline,  as  he  stood  with  &  broom. 
Then  ranse  the  young  beg:gar  did  guin  like  a»f^H\ 
\  battered  his  head  with  myshouel  and  broom 
My  shovel  and  broom,  my  shovel,  &c. 
battered  his  head,&.c. 

Oh,  this  was  my  first  lovc,&.  this  I  was  crosseu 

Ah,  scorned  by  Paulina,  how  hard  is  my  doom, 
I  grow  nioloncolly»'his  vorld  I  am  lost  in, 

No  nio-'e  1'*'  go  ■'•Itzing  in  Dusty  Tom's  rmor- 
Bni  think  of  her  scorning  crying  sweep  of  a 
ning, 
And  vepp  as  I  vork  vith  my  shorel  andhroom. 
My  shovel  and  bronm  &c. 


/ 


THJi: 


O 


PILGRIM 

Of  Love. 

J.  Caliiacli,  Printer,  2,  Monmouth  Court, 
7  Dials,  LoHdoii. 

#4'##'#-#>#l^f  a^#^^###&###f,f 
RKc;ITATIv^:. 

P.Vx\TinA,  my  ht-lovcd,   i  n-ll  i„  vain  : 
Oryiithia,   echo  hears,   and  calls  a^aiii, 
Amluiic  volc-c  repeats  the  natue  around. 
And  with  Orynthia  all  the  rocks  rewound. 

AlU. 
A    htriwit  who  dwells  in  tliese  soUtudes  cross'd 
me. 
As  way-worn  and   faint  up   tiie  mountains  I 
press'd  ; 
Tlic  a£[ed  man  pans'd  on  Ins  staff  to  acco-t  me. 
And  proft'er'd  his  cell  as  my  mansion  of  rest. 
All,  nay,  courteous  father,  rio'ht  onward  I  rove, 
No  rest  but  the  grave  for  the   Pilgrim  of  Love. 
'  Vet  tarry  my  son,  till  the  burning'  moou  passes, 
i..<-t    bous;lis  of   the    lemou-tree    shelter    thv 
head,  ^ 

'1  lu-  juice  of  ripe  muscadel   (lous  in  my  glasses 
And  rushes,  fresh  pulTd,  for  Siesta  are  spread! 

Row  Willi  Me  clown  the 


JDOVV  with  me  down  the  River, 

.  ^^'»cn  I've  won  the  cup  an!  civEii  ; 
Biiiig-yoiir  papa,  hrinjr  your  niamuia, 
And  I'll  treat  you  to  wliat  you  love; 
Tat  chops  fried  in  butter, 
But  it'you  don't  like  the  latter. 
Stew'd  eels  w  ill  mend  the  matter, 
V\'e'{l  each  of  us  have  bur  (ill. 

Row  with  me,  &g. 
Come  to  '  The  Star  and  Garter,' 
No  liouse  at  Hicliniofid  jiuiarter  ; 
Brinjr  your  fiddle,  sit  in  the  middle. 
And  I'll  play  all  the  tunes  you  love  : 
The  'Tank,'  and  Paddy  Carey, 
*Freischutz,'  and  'Hiirhhind  Mary.' 
And  so  gay  and  airy,^ 
We'll  dance  on  Richmond  Hill. 

Row  with  me  Sec. 


DEAR    TO 31 


THIS    BROWX 


^g<J^^^O^C^'§^^<>^<^^<<>«<i«<^«O«0^0M^^ 


©   o  'S^^^  €^^^^^SyS^©^S^S^^^» 


J.    Catnach,    Printer,  2,    Moamouth    Court, 
7    Dials,   L'jui»u. 


jT^KAR  Tdm,  this  brown  Jug  which  now  foams 

M  ith  good  ale, 
In  which  I  will  drink  (o  sweet  Kate  of  the  vale. 
Was  oiice  Toby  Philpot,  a  jolly  old  soul. 
As  e'er  drank  a  bottle,  or  fathoni'd  a  bow  1 ; 
In  boozing  about  'twas  his  pride  to  excel. 
And  among  jolly  topers  he  bore  off  the  bell. 

It  chanced  in  do?  days  he  sat  at  his  ease, 
In  his  tlower-woven  arbour,  as  gay  as  you  please, 
with  a  friend  and  a  pipe,  pufling  sorrow  away. 
And  with  honest  old  stingo  was  soaking  his  clay  ; 
His  breath  doors  of  life  on  a  sndden  were  shut. 
And  he  died  full  as  big  as  a  Dorchester  butt. 


His  body  when  long  in  the  ground  it  had  lain, 
And  time  into  rlay  had  dissolv'd  it  again, 
A  potter  found  out  in  a  covert  so  snug, 
And  with  pn.rt  of  fat  Toby  he  made  tlis  brown 

jag; 

Now  sacred  to  friendship,  to  mirth,  and  iiwld  ale, 
So  here's  to  uiy  lovely  sweet  Kate  of    tlie  vale. 


I 


The  TARS  of  the 

*      BLANCH. 

Catnach,  Printer,  2,  Monmouth-court,  7  Dials. 

YOU  Frenchmen  don't  boast  of  your  figkting^ 
Nor  talk  what  great  deeds  you  hare  done, 
V)o  you  think  that  Old  EngUad  you'll  frighten, 

As  easy  as  Holland  or  Spain, 
\Ve  listen  and  lanph  while  you  threaten, 

Your  boasting  and  wily  advance. 
The  boasting  Le  Picque  has  been  taken. 
By  the  jolly  brave  tars  of  tlie  Blanch. 

We  sailed  from  the  Bay  of  Point  Peter, 

Four  hundrt'd  and  fifty  on  board. 
We  were  all  ready  to  meet  them, 

To  conquer  or  die  was  the  word, 
While  the  can  of  good  liquor  was  flowing, 

Wegavc  them  three  cheers  to  advance, 
And  courage  in  each  heart  was  glowing, 

For  cowards  ne'er  sailed  in  the  Blanch. 

Tlie  night  then  ad^'ancing  uponua. 

The  moon  did  afford  us  a  light, 
f'ach  star  then  with  lustre  was  shining,  • 

To  k«ep  the  French  Frigates  in  sight, 

bile  the  breeze  gently  filled  our  sails, 

Our  ship  tbreugh  the  water  didlaynch. 
And  the  grog  flew  about  in  full  bumpers. 

Among  the  brave  tars  of  the  Blanch. 

The  fight  made  the  sea  seem  on  fire, 

Eaeh  biiUet  distractedly  flew, 
Britiuinia  ber*soni  did  inftplrtf 

With  cjflrsge  that  damped  the  French  crew, 
kfriitf  coTra^Js  now  ^tiely  maet  ^i«, 

Wlbil*  cirar  then,  death  turned  his  laace, 
Our  balls  did  wpeat  as  they  flew, 

Fight  on  my  brave  tars  of  the  Blanch. 

Wlien  Falkner  resigned  bis  last  breath. 

Each  gave  a  deep  tear  and  a  sigh, 
S«ch  sorrow  was  found  at  his  death, 

With  simpering,  read,  wept,  and  died, 
LiKe  Wolfe,  then  with  victory  cro%vn'd. 

At  bis  death,  he  cried  ne'er  mind  my  chance,    -; 
But  like  gallant  heroes  fight  on,  '' 

Or  expire  by  the  name  of  the  Blanch. 

Stout  Wilkins  his  place  soon  supplied. 

And  like  a  bold  actor  engaged. 
And  his  guns  with  more  judgment  to  guide, 

For  the  loss  of  his  captaia  enraged, 
And  who  could  bis  fury  allay. 

When  Le  Picque  alongside  did  advance. 
For  our  masts  being  all  shot  away, 

We  grappled  her  close  to  the  Blanch. 

Our  foremast  and  mizcn  being  gone. 

The  French  thought  they'd  make  us  their  own, 

And  with  Vive  le  Republic  sung, 

•    I  thought  they  never  would  have  done, 

We  joined  their  song  with  dismay. 
And  music  that  made  them  to  dance. 

And  not  a  false  note  there  was  played. 
By  the  harmonious  tars  of  the  Blaneh 

When  they  found  it  in  vain  for  to  stand 

fhey  cried  out  for  quarters  amain, 
j||()iOUgh  the  advantage  they  had, 

g^jU  Britoni  are  lords  of  the  main, 
8c»  nu*^  round  the  grog,  let  it  pass, 

Sioc^  they've  found  us  true  bearted  and  8t«,ine«», 
jad  with  his  favorite  1«sb, 
jv_jp    swcess  to  the  tars  of  the  blancb. 


CASTLE  HYDE 

Printed  by  J.  Catnach,  2,  Monmouth-court,  ' 
Dials. — Sold  by  Pierce,  Southborough  ;  Bon- 
net, Brighton  ;  and  Sharman,  Cambridge, 

AS  I  rode  out  on  th,  summer's  morning, 
Down  by  the  banks  of  Blackwater  side. 
To  view  the  groves  and  meadows  charming 

And  pleasant  gardens  of  Castle  Hyde. 
It  is  theire  you  will  hear  the  thrushes  warbling 

The  Dove  and  Partridge  I  now  describe, 
The  lambkins  sporting  each  night  and  morHtng 
All  to  adorn  sweet  Castle  Hyde. 

If  noble  Princes  from  foreign  places, 

Should  chance  to  sail  to  this  Irish  shore, 
It  is  in  this  valley  they  could  be  feasted 

As  often  heroes  had  done  before. 
The  wholesonie  air  of  this  habitation, 

Would  recreate  your  heart  with  pride 
There  is  no  valley  throughout  this  nation, 

AVith  beauty  equal  to  Castle  Hyde. 

There's  a  church  for  service  in  this  fine  harbour 

Where  nobles  often  in  their  coaches  ride 
To  view  the  streams  and  pleasant  gai  dens. 

That  do  adorn  sweet  Castle  Hyde, 
There  is  fine  horses  and  stall  fed  oxen, ' 

And  a  den  for  foxes  to  play  and  hide, 
Fine  mares  for  breeding  and  foreign  sheeping, 

And  snowy  fleeces  in  Castle  Hyde 

The  richest  groves  in  this  Irish  Nation  [i* 

In  fine  plantations  you'll  find  them  there 
The  Rose  and  Tulip  and  fine  Carnation 

All  vie  with  the  Lily  fair. 
The  Buck,  the  Doe,  the  Fox,  the  Eagle, 

Do  skip  and  play  by  the  river  side 
The  Trout  and  Salmon  are  always  roviag^ 

In  those  clear  streams  of  Castle  Hyde.  ^ 

I  rode  from  Blarney  to  Castle  Earnet^ 
To  Thomastown  and  sweet  Donerait 

To  sweet  Kilshanno»jk  and  gay  Ratheormi«t, 
Besides  Killarney  and  Abbey-fail. 

The  river  Shannon  and  pleasant  Boyi^ 
The  flowing  Barrow  and  rapid  ^T\^^\ 

Bui  ia  all  my  ran|,ing  asd  serenadi        '    - 
m  no  »'»ual  to  CastU  Hyda, 


Tlie  Death  of 

N  E  1.  S  O  N. 

J.  Ca'riHcli,  PriiUtT,  2,  WonniDUlb-oouct,  7  D!a.t. 


liiited  bv  J.  CHlnadi,  2,  Moiiinouth-court,  7  Diah.  Fold 
by  Bfn'net,  Brighton;  and  T.  Balcholar,  14,  Haikney 
AcHtl  Crescent. 

OD'SBLOOD;  what  a  time  fo  a  seaman  t»  skulk, 
IJnJer gingerbread  latches  ashore! 
What  a  damn'd  bad  job!  that  this  battet'd  old  Imlk,         _ 
^'i?n't  be  ri^g'd  out  for  sea  once  more 
But  the  piipiMcs  as  they  pass. 
Cocking  np  a  squinting  glass, 
Thus  run  down  the  old  Commodcre 
That's  the  old  Commodore — 
The  rum  old  Commodore — 
The  gouty  old  Commodore — he 
Why,.the  bullets  and  the  gout — 
Have  so  knock'd  his  hull  about, 
TU.it  he'll  never  move  be  tit  for  lea. 
Here  am  I,  in  distress,  like  a  ship  water-logg'd, 
Not  a  tow-rope,  at  hand,  or  ar.  oar  ; 
am  left  by  my  crew,  and  niav  1  1  e  flogg'd, 
But  the  doctor's  a  son  of  a  whore; 
While  I  am  swallowing  his  slops, 
How  nimble  are  his  chops. 
Thus"  ^.icring  the  old  Commodore: 
oad  case  Commodore 
C        ay  Commodore — ■ 
Mus'n't  flattev,  Commodore,  says  he, 
or  the  bullets  and  the  gout 
ave  80  kn(  ck'd  your  liuU  about 
That  you'll  never  more  be  fit  for  sra. 
What!  no  more  be  afloat !  blood  and  fiKy  !  thev  lie. 

I'm  a  seaman,  and  only  three-score; 
And  if,  as  lliey  Ml  me,   Vm  likely  to  die, 
Garizooks !  'let  me  not  die  ashore, 
As  to  deaih, 'tis  all  a  joke, 
Sailors  live  in  fire  and  smoke, 
t  So,  at  least,  says  an  old  Commodare    • 
The  rum  old  Commodcre, 
The  toii'.;l>  old  Commodore, 
The  fightincf  old  Commodore — he. 

Whom  the  devil  nor  the  gout, 
Or  tlie  rrer.<h  ilo«;s  to  boot. 
Can  kill  UU  theygrapple  hiai  at  sea. 


aK<  ITATIVR. 

O'RR  Nelson's  twmb,  witk  silent  gHof  ojTptufSS'd 
B.  ilaiiiiia  iiiouru'd  ber  b/ro  now  at  r^, 
B'lt  those  brisibt  UiireU  a^'er  sh.tU  fakl  with  >«»»rs 
Whose  ieaves  are  wja««*'d  by  -i  nations  t-aare. 

AIR. 

'Twas  in  TrafRlg«jr*s  oay, 
We  SHW  the  FKcnclimen  lay, 

Racli  heart  waa  bounding  thea  ; 
We  scorn'd  tltc  foreign  yoke, 
Our  ships  wee*  British  oak^ 

Hearts  of  oak  our  men. 
Our  Nelson  mark'd  them 
Three  cheers  ou?  gallant  seamen 

Nor  thought  of  home  or  beauty 
Along  the  lin*  this  signal  ran,— 
"  England  expects,  that  every  omio 

This  day  will  do  his  duty.'" 

And  now  the  cannons  roar 
Along  the  atTrighted  shore,       , 

Our  Nelson  led  the  way; 
His  ship  the  Vict'ry  nam'd ; 
Long  be  that  Vict'ry  fam'd! 

For  Vict'ry  crown'd  the  dny. 
But  dearly  was  that  conquest  bo»ghf 
Too  well  the  gallant  hero  fought, 
.  For  Englvnd,  home,  and  beauty. 
He  cried  as  'midst  the  fire  he  ran, 
"England  expects,  that  every  man 
This  day  will  do  his  duty  .*' 

At  !a-it  the  fata  vo-ind, 

Which  spread  dismay  arrouud,  ^ 

ite  Heroe's  breast  receiv'd 
"  Heav'n  fights  on  our  side, . 
Hie  day's  our  own,"  he  crj«d  ] 

**  Now  long  enousrh  I've  liv'd 
la  honour's  cause  my  Hfewas  paat. 
Id  honour's  cause  I  fall  at  last. 

ForEnglani,  home,  and  beaitf    . 
Thus  en  liug  life  has  ha  L'e?an. 
♦  Enuland  confess'd  that  ev'ry  ira 
Eh  a  oav  h^  done  hi*  ivt^t 


■ST'-'-r'ik/': 


Effects  of  M^ove, 

.).  Catnach,  Printer. 


YOUNG  lovers  all  1  pray  draw  ne»r 
Sad  sliockin?  news  you  soon  shall  he<w 
And  when  that  you  the  same  are  told, 
t  will  make  your  very  blood  run  col4. 

Miss  B.  \\.  is  iny  name 
1  have  brongrht  myself  to  ijrief  and  shamo. 
By  loving:  one  that  ne'er  loved  me 
Wit'a  sorrows  that  1  plainly  see 

Mark  well  these  words  that  will  be  wW^ 

By  \V E 1  was  betrayed 

Bj'  his  false  heart  I  was  bcg:u:led, 
At  length  by  him  I  proved  with  child 

At  rest  with  him  1  ne'er  could  be 
U<i1il  hehad  his  will  of  me 
To  his  fond  tales  I  did  give  way^ 
And  did  fro.n  paths  of  virtue  stray. 

Myprief  is  more  than  I  can  bean, 
I'm  disregarded  every  where. 
Like  a  blooming  flower  1  am  cut  down! 
And  on  me  now  my  love  does  frown, 

O  llie  false  vows  he  has  sworn  to  me. 
That  1  his  lawful  bride  should  be, 
May  I  never  prosper  night  nor  day^ 
If  1  deceive  you  he  would  say. 

Blitnow  the  day  is  past  and  gon«j, 
r>iat  he  fixed  to  be  married  on, 
lie  scarcely  speaks  when  he  does  meet, 
Aud  itrives  to  shun  me  in  the  stree*» 

I  did  propose  on  Sundaynight 
To  walk  oi  cemore  with  my  hearts  deRgbt 
Oil  th«  number  banks  where  billows  roar. 
We  p*rlcd  there  to  meet  no  more. 

Since  he  is  false,  a  watery  graT>e, 
ILaTS  resolved  this  night  to  have, 
j"ii  plunge  myself  into  the  deep. 
And  leave  my  friends  behind  to  weep, 

IliB  word  was  pledgvd  to  me, 
Hb  never  will  prosper  nor  happy  be.  ' 

My  ghost  and  my  infant  dear, 
Bo*h  shall  haunt  him  every  wliere. 

Dear  William  when  this  you  see 
llcmember  how  you  slighted  me. 
Farewell  vain  world  false  man  adieu 

drown  myself  for  love  of  you, 

Asa  token  that  (  die  ferlov«. 
There  will  be  seen  a  milk  white  (k>v«. 
Over  my  watery  tomb  shall  fly, 
Tuere  yeu  will  see  my  body  lie. 

These  checks  of  mine  once  bk>omln9r«d 
Must  now  be  mingled  with  the  dead. 
From  Ineueep  waves  to  a  bed  of  clay 
Where  I  must  sleep  till  the  judgment  da^. 

A  joyful  rising  then  I  hoj)e  to  have 
When  a  gels  call  me  from  the  grave 
Receive  my  soul  from  the  Lord  on  high 
or  broken  hearted  I  must  die. 
&rant  me  one  favour,  that's  all  I  crave. 
Eight  pretty  maidens  let  mchare 
Drest  all  in  white  in  comly  show 
To  take  me  to  the  grave  below. 

Now  all  young  girls  1  hopeoa  ea*"tb, 
WiU  be|a  warning  by  my  untimely  death, 
'lake  c!>re  sweet  maids  when  you  areyoHng; 
Of  men's  deluding  flatttriog  toogaes. 


Battle  of  the 

Shannon  and  Cheasapeah. 


3.  Catnach,  Pr«i(*r, 2,  INJonmouth-court,  7  Dials 


OTf  board  the  ShannoQ  friyatein  the  fine  month  of  May, 
To  watch  tka  bold  Americans  off"  Boston  lights  w« 
lay. 
The  Cheasapeak  lajr  in  harbour     frigate  stout  and  ftt»e 
Four  hundered  &  40  men  ihe  had,  her  guns  were  49 
Twas  captain  Broke    otimianded  us  a  challenge  lot  to 

fight,f 
To  the  captain  of  tie  CJ^easapeak  to  bring  him  on  to  fi^ht 
Our  captain  says,  brave  ^awreoce  Mis  not  for  enmity 
But  to  prove  to  all  the  world  that  we  rule  on  the  sea. 
Don't  think  my  noble  captain  because  you  have  suooess 
That  British  sailors  are   hurabl'd  no  not  evca  in  distress, 
Now  we  we  will  fight  like  heroes  our  glory  to  maintain. 
Id  defiance  of  superior  site  and  number  ofyourqaen 
ITxe  challenge  was  accepted  &  the  Americans  came  do» 
A  finer  frigate  ne'er  bclong'd  unto  the  British  crown. 
They  brought  her  into  action  on  the  trueBritish  plan, 
ior  fir'd  a  shot  till  within  hail,  then  thefight  began. 
Broadside  for  broadside,  did  yield  a  most  tremgiu^us 

roar, 
Li3ce  thunder  it  resounded,  re-echo'd  from  each  ^kor« 
The  dreadful  fire  it  lasted  near  aquarter  of  an  hour. 
The  enemy's  ship  drove  right  abroad  their  yards    wer« 

lock'd  in  ours. 
Our  captain  went  to  the  ships  side  to  see  how  <ihedidlie. 
When  he  beheld  the  enemy's  men  who  from  their  giro 

did  fly. 
All  hands  tor  boarding  bow  he  cried,  the  victory  \»  »u 
Have  courage  my  lads  now  isyourtimelhepritewallaoo 

secure. 
like  lions  then  we  rush'd  on  board,  we  fought  tlieiB  han 
to  h»nd,  (staiid 

And  though  they  over  numbered  us  they  could  mjt  us  with 
They  fought  in  desperation  disorder  &  dismay. 
And  in  about  3  minutes  time  were  forc'd  to  give  wriy. 
Their  captain  and   lieutenant  with  70  of  their  crew 
Were  kill'dinthis  sharoa  ?tion  &  hundred  wounded  too 
Then  we  took  to    Halifax  and   the  captain  buried ther 
Tiie  remainder  of  the  crew  as  his  chief  mourners  w6re. 
Have  courage,  British  seamen,  and  never  be      ay'ck, 
But  push  the  can  of  grog  about  and  drink  succe     tvadv 
Wewife  to  Capain  Brooke  and  all  his  »alia 
Wb«beat  the  mericans  and  brought  their  courage  too 


The 


Post  Captain. 


PriUltA  5f  Sold  by  J.    Catnach,  2,    Monmouth 
Court,  7  Dials. 

Sold  by  T.  Batchelar,  15,  Hackney  Road  Cres- 
cent, Bennett,  Brighton,  an  i  Pierce,  South- 
boroug '. 

WHEN  Stserwell  heard  me  first  impart. 
Our  Wave  Commanders  story. 
With  ardent  zeal  his  youthful  heart. 

Swelled  high  for  naval  glory,  (tures  eager 
RmoIvc  to  gain  a  valiant  name  for  bold  adven- 
When  first  a  little  cabin  boy  on  board  the  Fame 

He  would  hold  on  the  jigger, 
While  ten  jolly  tars  wit ;  a  musical  joe. 

Hove  the  anchor  apeak,  singing  yoe  heave, 
yoe,  yoe,  heave  yoe, 
Tenjoliy  tars,  with  musical  joe  &c. 

To  hand  top  gallant  sails  next  he  learnt. 

With  (uickness  care  and  spirit. 
Whose  ;  "onerous  master  then  discerned. 

And  [  lized  his  dawning  merit. 
He  taught  him  soon  to  reef  and  steer  j 

When  storms  convuls'd  the  ocean. 
Where  shoals  made  skilful  veterans  fear, 

Which  mark'd  him  for  promotion. 
As  none  to  the  pilot  e'er  answere  1  like  he. 

When  he  gave  the  command. 
Hard-a-port,  helm-a-lee,  (makf^  the  pier. 

Luff  boys    luff,  keep  her  near,  clear  the  buoy. 

None  to  the  pilot  e'er  answered  like  he. 
When  he  gave  tlJe  command  in  the  pool  or  at  sea 
Hard-a-port,  helm-a-lee. 

For  valour  skill  and  worth  renown'd, 

The  fos  he  oft  defeated. 
And  now  witk  fame  an    fortune  crownjl 

Post  Captain  he  is  rated. 
Who,  should  o«r  injured  country  blee^. 

Still  bravely  will  defend  her. 
Now  blest  with  peace  if  beauty  pleaas, 

He'd  prove  his  heart  is  tender, 
¥naw'd  yet  mild  to  high  or  low. 

To  poor  or  wealthy  friend    r  foe 
Weunded  tars,  share  bis  wealth 

All  the  fle«t  drink  hia  health  . 

Erized  be  such  hearts  for  aloft  they  w  II  go  ' 
Wi  j«h  always  are  ready  compassion  to  ;^ hew 

To  ft  brave  eoimuered  foe. 


MAY    POLE 

J.  Catnach,  Priuter,  2,  Mon mouth-court; 

COME  Lasses  and  lads,  get  leave  of  yovr 
dads. 

And  away  to  the  May-pole  hie, 
For  every  he  has  got  his  she. 

And  the  fiddlers  standing  by 
there's  Willie  has  got  his  .lane. 

And  Jerry  has  got  his  Joan, 
And  thereto  jig  jit,  jig  it,  jig  it, 
.'i .  i',  up  and  down.  Tol  lol,  tol  lol. 

Begin  says  Harry.  T,  T,  say  Mary, 

We  11  lead  he  Padd;ngton  Pound, 
Do  says  Jess,  Oh  no  says  Bess, 

We  11  have  Saint  Ledger  s  round. 
Then  every  lad  took  of  his  hat. 

And  bowed  to  his  lass. 
And  the  women  they  did  curtsey,  curtsey. 

Curtsey  on  the  grass  Tol  lol,  tol  lol. 

Your  out  says  Dick  — you  lie,  says  Nick, 

For  the  fiddler  play'd  t  wrong, 
Yes,  yes,  says  Sue,  Oh  yes,  says  Hugh, 

And  yes  says  every  one 
The  fiddler  then  began 

To  play  the  tune  again. 
And  every  lass  did  foot  t,  foot  t. 

Foot  it  unto  the  men,         Tol  lol,  tol  lo 

Lets  kiss  says  Fan— I,  I,  says  Nan, 

And  so  says  everv  she. 
How  many  says  JNat,  wiiy  three  says  Pat, 

For  that's  a  maiden's  fee. 
But  instead  oi  kissss  three. 

They  gave  them  half  a  score. 
And  the  men  in  kindness,  kindness,  kindness 
Gave  them  as  many  more    Tol  lol,  tol  lol. 
Then  after  an  hour,  they  went  to  a  bower. 

To  play  for  wine  and  cake. 
And  kisses,  too,  what  they  could  do. 

For  the  lasses  held  the  stake  j 
The  women  then  began. 

To  quarrel  with  the  men« 
And  bid  them  give  thekisses  back. 

And  take  their  own  again.   Tol  lol,  tol  k)l 
Now  they  did  stay,  there  a'  the  day. 

And  tir'd  the  fiddler  quite. 
With  dancing  and  play  without  any  paylo,    ■ 

From  morning  until  nigh  j 
They  told  the  fiddler  then. 

They  d  pay  him  for  his  play 
So  each  paid  two  pence,  two  pence. 

Two  pence,  &  toddled  away.  Tol  lol,  tol  lal 
Good   night,  says  Harry,  good  nigh  i  say. 
Good  night  says  Dol  y  to  .lohn,       (^art- 
Good  night  says  Sue,  good  nights  ysH"- 

Good  nignt.  says  every  one ;    _ 
Some  walk'd  and  some  did  run/ 

Some  loitered  on  the  ^'^v 
And  l)ound  themselves  v 
To  meet  the  next  holidu^ , 


Shannon  Sf  Chesapeake 

Or,  she  comes  in  glorious  style. 

J.  Cahiach,  Printer,  2  and  3,  Monmouth  Court 
Seven  Dials. 


She  citmes,  shecomes,  in  glorious  style, 

To  quarters  fly  ye  hearts  of  oak  ; 
Success  shall  soon  reward  our  toil. 

Exclaimed  the  gallant  captain  Brook. 
Three  cheers,  my  hrave  boys,  let  your  ardour  bespeak. 

And  tfive  them  a  round  from  your  cannon  ; 
And  soon  shall  they  lind  that  the  prou    Chfsapeake 

Shall  lower  a  flag  to  the  Shannon. 

Lawrence,  Columbia's  pride  and  boast. 

Of  conquest  counted  sure  as  fate  ; 
He  thus  addressed  his  liaujj;hty  host, 

With  form  erect  and  heart  elate:  (bespeak, 

Tliree    cheers,    my  brave   men,   let  your   cuuraure 

And  arive  them  a  taste  of  your  cannon  ; 
*nd  soon  shall  they  know  that  the  proud  Chesapeake 

Shall  ne'er  lower  a  flag'  to  the  Shannon. 

Silent  as  death  each  foe  drew  nij^h, 

While  locked  in  hostile  close  embrace, 
Brave  Brook,  with  a  British  seaman's  eye 

The  sio|-i(s  of  terror  soon  could  trace. 
rle  exclaimed,  whilst  his  looks  did  ardour  bespea 

Brave  hoys  they  all  flinch  from  their  cannon  ; 
Board,    hoard,     my    brave     mesmates,     the    proud 
Chesapeake 

Shall  soon  he  a  |)rize  to  the  Shannon. 

Swift  Hew  the  word,  Britannia's  sons, 

Spread  death  and  terror  where  they  came  ; 
The  tremblioK  foe  forsook  their  guns. 

And  called  aloud  on  mercy's  name. 
Brave  Brook  led  the  way,  but  fell  wounded  and  weak, 
Yet  he  exclaimed  ihoy  are  fled  from  their  cannon, 
'Three     cheers      uiy     biave      seamen,    the     proud 
Cheoapeak* 
Has  lower'd  a  flag  to  the  Shannon. 

The  day  was  won,  but  Lawrence  fell 

He  clitsed  his  eyes  in  endless  night  ; 
^nd  oft  Columbia's  sons  will  tell. 
Of  hopes  all  blighted  in  that  fia^hl. 
tbrave  Captain  Brook,  though  yet  woHn<1ed  and 
weals, 
Survives  to  aeain  play  his  cannon  ; 
Bis  naiuto  from  theshvr^sof  thewide  Chesa|)eake, 
Sliall  resound  to   tne  banks  uf  tbr  Shannon, 


THOMAS  &   NANCY. 

J.  Catnach,   Printer,  2  &  3,   Mon 
mouth-court,  Seven  Dials. 


The  boatswain's  shrill  ^hisilehad  sounded, 

And  Thomas  an<l  Nancy  must  part; 
Her  heart  in  her  bosom  it  bounded, 

While  the  tears  in  her  blue  eyes  did  start 
"  O  Thomas,  dear  Thomas,"  said  NancyJ 

"  When  sailing  aloniron  the  main, 
O  never  forget  ynr  dear  Nancy, 

Remember  tny  love  you  are  mine.** 

O  Nancy  my  love,  I  must  leave  you. 

The  signal  for  sailing  is  made, 
Our  parting,  dear,  let  it  not  grieve  yoti. 

Nor  that  T  should  prove  false  be  afraid. 
Repressed  her  again  ere  they  parted, 

Then  stepped  to  his  boat  from  the  shore- 
Nancy  sunk  on  the  ground  broken  hearted, 

For  fear  she  should  ne'er  see  him  more. 

The  vessel  flew  swift  o'er  tlie  billow. 

Like  a  sea-bird  she  breasted  the  foam. 
And  Thomas,  when  laid  on  his  pillow. 

Thought  of  Nancy,  his  parents  and  home, 
He  pressed  on  his  heart  each  love  token, 

And  vowed  to  be  constant  and  true. 
The  words  that  at  parting  she  had  spoken, 

Be  constant  dear  Thomas — adieu. 

The  ship  made  her  port,  and  returning. 

Scudded  fast  o'er  the  treacherous  main. 
Each  bosom  with  ardour  was  burning. 

To  see  his  loved  country  as^ain  ; 
A  storm  rose  with  loud  peals  of  thunder, 

The  lightning  flashed  over  the  wavcs„ 
When  a  rock  dashed  the  vessel  asunder, 

And  the  crew  found  a  watery  grave. 

To  the  beach  Nancy  franlickly  hurried, 

And  beheld  a  most  pitiful  scene 
The  corpse  of  her  Thomas  was  carried^ 

To  the  spot  where  so  happy  they'd      tJ« ; 
She  kissed  his  cold  cheek  in  hersoiro** 

The  tears  told  the  depth  of  her  grief 
And  'ere  the  suu  set  on  the  morrow, 

Death  gave  to  poor  Nancy  relief. 

'Neath  the  shade  of  the  old  v.|jiow  thatS  weepnf^ 

Beside  the  old  c  hurch  in  ihv  vale. 
In  one  grave  these 'ond  I  vers  are  sleepiwg 

Where  sorrow  nor  care  caDiiotassail 
The  maidens,  when  4ay  ban  departed. 

Trow  flowers  to 'deck  the  colrt  e[ra>c 
Nancy  the  fond  an^   rtif  hearted 

Thomas  bet  lover  so  brave. 


Gentle  Moon. 


^  intedby  J.Catnach,2, Monmouth-Court,7  Dials 
'Soldby  T.  Shannan, Cambridge:  Bennett, Brigh- 
ton ;  and  R.  Harris,  Salisbury. 

DAY  has  g-one  down   on  the  Baltic's  broad 
billow. 
Ev'ning-  has  sighed  her  last  to-the  lone  willow, 
Nig-ht  hurries  on  earth  and  ocean  to  cover. 
Rise  gentle  moon  and  lig'ht  me  to  my  lover. 

'Twas  by  thy  beam  he  first  stole  forth  to  woo  me 
Brig-hter  since  then  hast  thou  ever  seem'd  to  me, 
Let  the  wild  waves  still  the  red  sun  roll  over, 
Thine  is  the  lig-ht  of  all  lig-hts  to  a  lover. 

i5lL5lL5H3l5lL5lLS1l51i5Tl5| 
The  Banner  of  WAR. 

BEHOLD  the  Britannia  how  stately  &  brave 
She  floats  on  the  ambient  tide. 
For  empire  design**  o'er  the  turbulent  wave, 
How  trim  and  how  gallant  she  rides. 

Yes  love  in  a  true  Britons  heart 
For  glory  contends  for  a  part, 
And  the  fair  cheeks  of  beauty  with  tears  are  im- 

pearl'd, 
When  the  banner,  the  banner  of  war  is  unfurl'd. 

On  the  shore  how  alert  how  intrepid  her  crew, 

How  firm  at  their  sovereign's  command, 
Or  dauntless  o'er  ocean  her  foes  to  pursue, 
And  die  for  the  cause  of  their  land. 

Yet  one  tear  o'er  the  heroes  i»«part 
One  sigh  shall  be  drawn  frotatwe  heart 
One  kiss  on  thy  cheek  with  sweet  sorrow  impearl- 

ed, 
When  the  banner,the  banner  of  war  is  unfurled. 

No    forth  to  the  conquest.to  conques   the  battle 

swells  high, 
And  fierce  round  the  vessel  it  roars, 

the  sons  of  Britannia  to  victory  cry, 
And  victory  sound  t(  our  shore. 

Then  peaceful  ag-aiu  to  their  homes, 

Shall  the  patriot  wrriors  come, 
!N0  more  th^  fair  cheeks  sji.tl  with   team  be  im- 

pesrl'd, 
xbnaer  A  yeaceitaa  is  for    enQfurl'd 


J->,*J^»^g»i^ 


The  Southern 

BREEZES. 


J.  Catnach,  Printer,  2,  Monmouth-court, 
7  Dials. 

^S^/^HEN  the  southern  breezes  play, 

T  T        The  uplands  let  us  g-aio, 
Where  ruddy  health  with  smiles  invites, 
To  join  her  sportive  train. 

Unleach  the  merry  pack, 
See,  see,  they  scent  the  gale. 

Their  chuckling-  throats  repeat  the  note* 
Ourspoj^it  will  not  fail. 

When  the  sun  his  course  has  run, 

We  trim  the  evening-  fire, 
And  gaily  troll  the  cheering  bowl, 

To  the  health  of  wife  and  squire. 

When  the  southern,  &c. 

Then  the  laugh  and  joke  prevail, 
Till  the  turret-bell  strikes  one, 

And  a  parting-  cup  of  ale, 
Proclaims  our  day  is  done. 

When   the  southern    kc. 


WOODLAND  MAID. 


THE  Woodland  Maidmybeanty'squeea 
In  Nature's  simple  charms  array'd, 
This  heart  subdues  that  matchless  mieo, 
Which  binds  me  to  the  Woodland  Maid 

Let  others  sigh  for  mines  of  gold. 
For  wide  domains,  for  gay  parous, 
would,  unmov'd,  ssch  toys  behold, 
P«fi       fc  (*of  ibfru  sfct'aH.  Wondiland  Mai  J 


d 


The  Soldier's  Tear, 

UPON  the  hill  he  tiirn'd, 
To  take  a  la«t  fond  look, 
Of:he  valley  nnd  the  village  church. 

And  the  cottage  by  the  brook, 
Helisten'd  to  the  sounds, 

So  familiar  to  his  ear ; 
And  the  Soldier  leant  upon  his  swerd. 

And  wiped  away  a  tear. 
Beside  that  cottage  porch, 

A  girl  was  on  her  knees, 
She  held  aloft  a  snowy  scarf. 

Which  fluttered  in  the  breeze ; 
She  breath'd  a  pray'r  for  him, 

Aprayer  he  could  not  hear, 
But  he  paus'd  to  bless  her  as  she  knelt, 

And  wiped  away  a  tear. 
He  turn'd  and  left  the  spot. 

Oh  !  do  not  deem  him  weak. 
For  dauntless  was  the  soldier's  heart, 

Tho  tears  was  on  his  cheek. 
60  watch  the  foremast  ranks 

In  danger's  dark  career, 
Be  sure  the  hand  most  daring  there. 

Has  wiped  away  a  tear. 

A  Herring  in  Salt 

IHa'elaid  a  herring  insa*t. 
Las  gin  ye  lo'e  me,  tell  rae  now, 
I  ha'e  brew'd  a  forpet  0'  ma't, 

An'  1  canna  eome  ilka  day  to  woo. 
I  ha*e  a  ca*f  will  soon  be  a  cow, 

Loss  gin  ye  lo'e  nte,  tell  me  now, 
I  ha'e  a  pig  will  soon  be  a  sow, 

An'I   caajra  come  ilka  day  to  wo'- 
I*ve  a  hoHse  on  yonder  muir, 

Lass  gin  ye  loe'  me,  tell  me  now 
Three  sparrows  may  dance  upon  tiw 

floor,  -  ^  ■:       ?  .  -:> 

And  t  canna  come  ilka  day  to  w^oo 
I  ba'e  a  butt,  and  I  ha'e  a  ben, 

Lass  gin  ye  lo'e  me,  tell  me  now, 
I  ha'e  three  chickens  and  a  fat  hen. 

An'  I  canna  come  ony  mair  to  woo 
I've  a  hen  wi*  a  happity  leg. 

Lass  gin  lo'e  me,  tell  me  now. 
Which  ilka  day  lays  me  an  egg, 

And  I  canna  come  ilka  day  to  woo, 
I  ha'e  a  kebbuck  upon  ray  shelf, 

Xas  gin  ye  lo'e  me,  tak*  me  now, 
I  downa  eat  it  a'  myself,  ' 

And  1  "^hna  come  oay  mair  to  woo 


BETSY   BAKER. 


FROM  aoise  and  bustle  far  away, 
Hard  Wo^k  my  time  em})loying, 
How  happilydid  1  pass  each  day, 

Content  and  health  enjoying; 
The  birds  did  sing  and  so  did  I, 

As  I  trudged  o'er  each  acre, 
t  never  knew  what  'twas  to  sigh, 
'Till  I  saw  Betsy  Baker. 

At  church  I  met  her  dressed  so  neat, 
One  Sunday  in  hot  weather. 

With  love  1  found  my  heart  did  beat, 
As  we  sung  psalms  together; 

So  p  ously  she  hung  her  head. 
The  while  her  voice  did  shake,  ah  1 
bought  if  ever  1  did  wed, 
Twould  be  with  Betsy  Baker. 

Frtm  her  side  r  could  not  budge. 

And  sure  I  thought  no  harm  on't, 
My  elbow  then  she  gave  a  nudge. 

And  bade  me  mind  the  sarment ; 
When  church  was  over  ©at  she  walked. 

But  I  did  overtake  her, 
Determined  i  would  not  be  baulked, 

I  spoke  to  Betsy  Baker. 

Her  manners  were  genteel  and  cool 

I  found,  on  conversation, 
She'd  just  come  from  boarding-school, 

And  finished  her  education  ; 
But  love  made  me  speak  out  quite  free. 

Says  I  I've  many  an  acre, 
Will  you  give  me  your  company, 

I  shan't,  says  Betsy  Baker. 

All  my  entreaties  she  did  slight, 
And  1  was  forced  to  leave  her, 
got  no  sleep  all  that  there  night, 
For  love  had  brought  a  fever; 
The  doctor  came,  he  smelt  his  cane, 

With  long  face  like  a  Quaker, 
Said  he,  "  Young  man,  pray,  where'  thy 
pain?^' 
Say;^  1,  "  Sir,  Betsy  Baker." 

Because  1  was  not  bad  enough. 
He  Muted  and  he  pilled  v^e. 


And,  if  I'd  taken  all  his  stuff, 
1  think  he  must  ha'  killed  me; 

I  put  an  end  to  all  the  strife, 
'Twixt  him  and  the  undertaker, 

And  what  d'ye  think  'twas  saved  my  'ifc 
Why  thoughts  of  Betsy  Baker. 

I  then  again  to  Betsy  went, 

Once  more  with  love  attacked  her 
But  mean  time  she  got  acquainted, 

Wi'  a  ramping  mad  play  actor; 
If  she  would  have  him,  he  did  say, 

A  lady  he  would  make  her,  .^ 

He  gammoned  her  to  run  away.  ^ 

And  I  lost  Betsy  Baker. 

I  fretted  very  much  to  find. 

My  hopes  of  love  bo  undone, 
And  mother   thought  'twould  ease  my 
mind. 

If  1  came  up  to  London. 
But  though  I  strive  another  way. 

My  thoughis  will  ne'er  forsake  her, 
I  dream  all  night,  and  think  all  day, 

Of  cruel  Betsy  Baker. 


SOLDIER'S  Gratitude. 

Hate'er  my  fate  where'er  I  roam, 
By  sorrow  still  opprest, 
I'll  ne'er  forget  the  peaceful  home, 
That  gave  a  Wanderer  rest. 

Then  ever  rove  life's  sunny  banks 

By  sweetest  flowers  strew'd 
Still  may  claim  a  Soldier's  thanks, 
A  Soldier's  gratitude. 
The  tender  sigh,  the  balmy  tear 

That  meek-eyM  Pity  gave ; 
My  last  expiring  hour  shall  cheer. 
And  bless  the  Wanderer's  crave. 


Catnach,  Printer,  2.  Monmoath-Cour 
7  Dials,     ('ards,  &c.  Printed  Cheai>., 
,  Coantry  Shop    aad  TraTcUert  Mpp  ed. 


Tlie    Banks   of   the 
Blue  Moselle. 

J.  Catuuch,  Printer,  2,  Monniouth-court 
7  ])ials. 


\1/'HEN  the  glow-worm  gilds  the  el- 
fin bower, 

That  clings  round  tlie  ruined  shrine, 
^^'^here  first  we  met,  where  first  we  lov'd 

And  I  confessed  me  thine  ; 
'Tis  there  I'll  fly  to  m«*t  thee  still, 

At  sound  of  vesper  bell ; 
In  t!ie  starry  light  of  the  summer  night, 

On  the  hanUj'  of  the  hlue  INIoselle. 

li  tiie  cares  ol   life  should  shade  my 
hrow, 

Yes,  yes,  in  our  native  bowers ; 
My  lute  and  harp  might  best  iiccord, 

To  tell  of  happV<ir  hours  ; 
'Tis  there  I'd  soothe  thy  grief  to  rest, 

Ettch  sigh  of  sorrow  quell : 
In  ttie  starry  light  of  the  summernight 

On  the  banks  of  the  blue  Moselle. 

Safely  follow  him. 

i^Follow  him,  nor  fearful  deem, 

Danger  lurks  in  gipsey  guile, 
Kuae  and  lawless  tho'  we  seem. 

Simple  hearts  we  bear  the  while. 
Then  no  robber  fierce  nor  thief  we  fear. 

Who's  roused  by  night  in  savage  den 
Fearless  then,  o'er  mosses  drear. 

Barren  wilds  and  lonesome  glen 
Safely  follow  him,  safely  follow  him, 
Safely,  safely  follow  him. 

From  rustic  swains,  the  petty  bride, 
Petty  spoil  from  cot  or  farm ', 

Cootent  the  wandering  gipsey  tribe, 
Whou>  the  traveller  never  harms. 
Then  no  robber  &c 


The  Highland  Minstrel 
BOY. 

J.  Catnach,  Printer,  2.  ]\Ionmouth-court 
7  Dials. 

W  Hae  wandered    mony  a   night 
June, 

Along  the  banks  of  Clyde, 
Beneath  a  bright  and  bonnie  moon, 

Wi'  Mary  at  my  side  : 
A  summer  was  she  to  mine  e'e, 

And  to  my  heart  a  joy, 
And  weel  she  lov'd  to  roam  v7r  me. 

Her  Highland  Minstrel  Boy 

Oh  !  her  presence  could  on  ev'ry  star, 

New  brilliancy  confer, 
And  I  thought  the  flow'rs  were  oweeter 

When  they  were  seen  with  her :  (far 
Her  brow  was  calm  as  sleeping  sea 

Her  glance  was  full  o'  joy, 
And  oh  !  her  heart  was  true  to  m« 

Her  Highland  INIinstrel  Boy. 

h  le  play'd  to  Ladies  fair  d  gay 

In  mony  a  southern  hall 
But  there  was  one  far,  far  away, 

A  world  above  them  all ; 
And  now  tho'  weary  years  hay©  iled^ 

I  think  wi'  mournful  joy,. 
Upon  the  time  when  Mary  wed* 

Her  Highland  Minstrel  Bgy 


Tke  Painful 

Plough. 

J.  Catnach,  Printer,  2,  Monmouth-Court,  7  Dials. 
Said  by  Bennett,  and  Boyes,  Brighton. 

COME  all  you  jolly  ploug:hmen  of  courage  stout  and  bold 
That  labour  all  the  •'inter  in  stormy  winds  ana  cold. 
To  cloath  their  fields  with  plenty  your  farm  yards  to  renew. 
To  crown  them  with  contentnnent  behold  the  painful  ploag h 
Hold  ploughman  said  the  gard'ner  don't  count  your  tradf 

with  ours. 
Walk  thro'  the  garden  and  view  the  early  flowers. 
Also  the  curious  border  pleasant  walks  to  view. 
Theftt's  none  such  peace  and  plenty  performed  by  the  plough 
Hold  gard'ner  said  the  ploughnan  my  calling  don't  dispist 
Each  man  for  his  living  upon  his  trade  relies 
Were  it  not  for  the  ploughman  both  rich  and  poor  wonld  rue 
For  we  are  all  dependent  upon  the  painful  plough. 
Atlam  in  the  garden  was  sent  to  keep  it  right. 
Rut  the  length  of  time  he  staid  there  I  believe  it  was  one 
Yet  of  his  own  labour  I  call  it  not  his  due  (night. 

Soon  he  lost  his  garden  and  went  to  hold  the  plough 
Kor  Adam  was  a  pleughman  when  ploughing  did  begin. 
The  next  that  did  succeed  him  was  Cain  the  eldest  ton, 

ome  of  the  generation  this  calling  now  pursue 
The  bread  that  may  he  wanting  remains  the  painful  plough 
Sampson  was  the  strongest  man  and  Solomon  was  wise 
Alexander  for  to  conquer  was  all  his  daily  pride, 
King  David  was  valiant  and  many  thousands  slew, 
Yet  none  of  these  brave  heroes  ceuld  live  without  the  plough 
Behold  tlie  wealthy  merchant  that  trades  in  foreign  teas 
And  bring  him  gold  aud  treasure  for  those  who  live  at  ease. 
With  fiue  silk  and  spices  and  fruits  too  also. 
They  are  brought  from  the  Indies  by  virtue  of  the  plough 
Yet  the  man  that  brings  them  will  own  to  what  is  true 
He  cannot  sail  the  ocean  without  the  painful  plough,  (peas 
Kor  they  must  have  bread,  biscuit,    rice  pudding,  flour  ■n«i 
To  fc«d  the  joHy  sailors  as  they  sail  o'er  the  sea«.f 

he»a  there's  none  offended  at  rae  for  singing  this 
.\voonwas  not  intended  for  any  thing  amiss, 

]  sidar  rightly  you'll  lind  what  I  say  is  true 
eaaawMioB  dapeuds  upoothiiploalif . 


Fin  in  Haste, 

Printed  by  J.  Catnach,  2,  ftfonmouth-('oart, 
7  Dials.     Sold  by  T.  Rttchelar,  14, Hack- 
ney  Road  Crescent;  W.Marshall,  Bristol 
and  R.  Harris,  Salisbury. 

AS  'cross  the  field  the  other  morn 
I  itept  so  blythe  and  gay, 
The  squire  with  his  dog  and  gun. 

By  chance  came  by  the  way ; 
Whither  so  fast,  sweet  maid,  he  cry'd, 

And  caught  me  round  the  waist. 
Pray  stop  awhile — Dear  sir,  said  I, 
I  can't,  for  I'm  in  haste. 

You  must  not  go  as  yet  cry'd  he. 

For  I  have  much  to  say 
Come  sit  you  down,  and  let  us  chat. 

Upon  the  new-mown  hay. 
I've  lov'd  you  long  and  oft  have  wished 

Those  ruby  lips  to  taste 
I'll  hare  a  kiss — Well  then  said  1, 

Be  quick  for  I'm  in  haste. 

lust  as  I  spoke  I  saw  yoang  Hodge  J 

Come  from  a  neighbouring  gate. 
He  caught  my  hand  and  said  dear  giri^ 

I  fear  I've  made  you  wait ; 
But  nere's  a  ring,  come  let's  \m  okvrrh 

The  joys  of  lore  to  tast«, 
V  left  the  iqmre,  and  lauglu»g  aij  || 

Yon  ••€  sir.  I'll  ii  hasM 


YOU.NG 


PA  TTl 


AND  HKR 

GayPloughboy 

J.  Cntnach,  Printer,  2,  &  3,  MoHmouth-court, 

7  Dials. 

'fune — Pleasant  Month  of  May. 

COME  all  my  happy  Plougliboys  aud  listen 
to  my  song,  (lonj;, 

A  story  I  will  tell  to  you,  that  does  to  love  be- 
Who  do  arise  %o  early,  amidst  rural  mirth  and 
joy,  (I'O}  • 

And  noue  appears  so  happy  as  the  s^y  Plough- 
The  gay  Ploughboy. 

lis  of  a  youthful  damsel,  who  lived  nearagrore, 
Who's  heart  did  seem  contented  in   rural  ptact 

and  love, 
Down  in  her  father's  garden  she  sung  sweet  9onp« 

of  joy,  O^oj. 

And  her  melodies  was  praising,  her  gay  Plough- 
Said  the  mother  to  the  daughter,  you  seem  to 

love  him  well,  (doth  dwell, 

It  seems  as  if  your  tender  heart  all  in  his  breast 
Those  lads  they  aie  so  rakish,  young  maideus  to 

decoy,  (boy 

goon  you  may  see  upon  your  knee  a  gay  Plough - 
O  theu  replied  young  Patty,  he's  just  the  lad  for 

me,  (fre<'. 

With  him  I  could  be  happy,  his  heart  is  gay  and 
He  does  ari»e  so  early,  and  tends  his  team  with 

joy? 

And  boldly  does  his  duty  like  a  gay  ploughboy. 
Young  William  with  his  team,  returning  home 
froip  plough,  (not  say  no. 

He  shew  to  me  a  ring  of  gold,  my  tongue  could 
He  said  my  pretty  Patty,  the  parson  we'll  em- 
ploy, (boy- 
Theu  none  will  be  so  happy  as  the  gay  Plough- 
So  uow  we  are  united,  young  William  goes  to 

plough, 
Hid  IMl  arise  delighted  io  milk  my  spotted  cow, 
•  in  a  rural  cottage,  there  is  none  do  us  annoy, 
BO  happy  is  young  Fatty  &  tVe  gay  Plon^^h 

04« 


KING  DEATH. 

./.  CAT.NACH,  Piinter,  2,  &  3,  INIoti- 
ino.iitli-court,  7  Dials. 

KJNG  DEATH  was  a  rare  old  fellow, 
He  sat  where  no  sun  can  shine  ; 
And  he  lifted  bis  hand  so  yellow. 
And  pour'd  out  his  coal  black  wine. 

Hurrah  for  the  coal  black  wine 

There  came  to  him  many  a  maiden, 

^Vhose  eyes   had  forgot  to  shine. 
And  widows  with  grief  o'erladen 

For  a  draught  of  his  coal  bto'''>uyiie. 

H  Uriah,  &c 
The  scholar  left  all  hi«  learning, 

The  poet  his  fancied  woes. 
And  the  beauty  her  bloom  returning. 

Like  life  to  the  fadingp-rose.  Hurrah,  &e 

All  came  to  the  rare  old  fellow. 

Who  laugh'd  till  his  cfes  dropp'd  brine, 

And  he  gave  them  his  hand  so  yellow. 
And  pledg'd  them  in  Death's  black  wine; 

Hurrah^ 

21ie  Knight 

SILVER  SHIELD. 

SPLENDOUR  blaz  (1  in  tlie  castle  hal 
As  they  danc'd  the  gallied  measure 
No  thought  of  the  past  did  grief  recall. 

The  soul  was  wrapped  in  pleasure. 
There  was  but  one  heart  in  the  castle'granii 

That  to  sorrow's  force  did  yield, 
TwastheLady's,  who  had  promised  herhanci 
To  him  who  had  fought  in  the  holy  land, 
1  he  Knight  of  the  Silver  Shield. 

All  but  one  were  with  joy  el6te. 

Eyes  beani'd  with  pleasure  bright, 
When  the  bugle's  sound  at  the  castle  gate 

Announced  the  return  of  a  knight. 
The  lady's  heart  'gainst  her  breast  did  be> 

Her  eyes  true  joy  reveal'd, 
When  a  throbbing  bosom  hers  did  meet 
A«d  ske  view'd  kneeling  at  her  feet      ' 

The  Knight  oblver  e  Stif  hie81d 


AiiM 


Female   Auctioneer. 

Sung  at  Vauxhall  by  the  eminent  Vocalist 
Mrs  I''rariklin. 

'ELL  here  I  am,  and  what  of  that 
Mcthinks  1  hear  you  cry. 
Why  I  am  come,an(l  that  is  pat, 

To  see  if  you  will  buy  '! 
A  Female  Auctioneer  1  stand. 
Though  not  to  seek  for  pelf, 
And  the  lot  I  have  in  hand, 
J 8  for  to  sell  myself. 

And  I'm  going,  going,  going '. 
"Who  bids  for  me ! 

Ye  Batchelors,  I  look  at  you, 

And  pray  don't  deem  me  rnde, 
Nor  rate  me  either  scold  or  shrew, 

A  coquet  or  a  prude ; 
My  hand  and  heart  I  offer  fair. 

And  should  you  buy  the  lot, 
I  swear  I'll  make  you  here  my  own, 

When  Hymen  ties  the  knot. 

Though  some  may  deem  pert  or  so, 

Who  deals  in  idle  strife, 
Pray  wheres  the  girl,  1  wish  to  know. 

Who'd  not  become  a  wife ; 
At  last  I  own  I  really  would, 

In  spite  of  all  alarms. 
Dear  Batchelors  now  be  so  good, 

Do  take  me  to  your  arms. 


DONALD 

OF 

DUNDEE. 

^.  Catmacii,  Printer, 2,  i>IoNMOirrH-CoiiRT, 
,         7  Dials. — Sold  by  W.  Marshalu 
Sold  by  J.  Pierce,  Southboruugh. 

'm/'OUNG  Donald  is  tlie  blithest  lad» 

jB        Tiiat  e'er  made  love  to  me, 
W  h(^  e'er  he's  by  my  heart  is  glad, 

He  seems  so  gay  and  free. 
Tb<'ii  on  his  pipe  he  plays  so  sweet, 

nrid  his  plaid  he  looks  so  neat. 
It  cheers  my  heart  at  eve  to  meet, 
Voung  Donald  of  Dundee. 

Wlx-ne'er  I  gang  to  yonder  grove. 

Young  Sandy  follows  me, 
and  fain  he  wants  to  be  my  love, 

B  Jt  ah  !   it  cannot  be. 
The'  mother  frets  both  soon  and  late, 
For  me,  to  wed  the  lad  1  hate,       (Kate, 
Tliere's  none  need  hope  to  gain  young 

JJut  Donald  of  I3undee. 

When  last  we  rang'd  the  banks  of  Tay, 

The  ring  he  shew'd  to  me, 
mid  bade  me  name  the  bridal  day, 

'I  hen  happy  would  he  be. 
1  ken  the  youth  will  e'er  be  kind, 
Nae  mair  my  mother  I  will  mind. 
Meis  John  to  me  shall  quickly  join, 

Younji  Donald  of  Dundee. 

Puj  ting  with  mi/ Dearest.     A  favourite 
S^ng,   Tune, — Sun  that  Lights,  &c, 

O!   I  could  leave,  for  evermore;, 
My  kindred  and  relations  ; 
And,  blest  with  him  whom  I  adore, 

Could  roam  thro'  foreign  nations  ; 
i'or,  what  are  friends  to  iovcFs  tpoe  ? 

Or  dangers  the  severest  ? 
My  heart  will  break  to  bid  adieu, 
ill  parting  with  my  dearest  ! 

I  di'Yt  not  follow  where  lie  goes, 

Yet  cannot  live  behind  him  ; 
May  Heaven  protect  hiu]  from  his  fo«s, 

And  guide  my  st^'ps  to  find  him  ! 
We  can  live  in  toil   and  car-e. 

And  dangers  the  severest ; 
wake  the  wamngs  of  despaif, 

III  partAQ^  "Vith  my  deAit^i^. 


COTTAGE  near  a  Wood, 


J.  Catnach,  2,  Monmouth-court,!  JDia^. 
London.— i^  ards  Printed  Cheap. 


N  m J  Cottage  near  a  Wood, 

,     Lore  and  Rosa  now  are  mine, 
Ro«a  erer  fair  and  good. 

Charm  me  with  those  smiles  of  hine, 
BosA  partner  of  my  life. 

She  alone  my  heart  shall  prize. 
She  the  tender  friend  and  wife. 

Ah  \  too  swift  life*  current  tlies. 
Linger  yet  ye  moments  stay. 

Why  so  rapid  is  your  wing, 
Whither  would  you  haste  away, 

Stay  and  hear  my  Kosa  sing. 
Health  and  youth  still  bless  my  cot. 

Fortunes  frowns  are  for  oi»r  good. 
May  we  live  by  pride  forgot. 

In  our  Cottage  near  a  Wood. 


The  Glasses  Sparkle. 

THE  glasses  sparkle  on  the  board, 
The  ale  is  ruby  bright, 
The  height  of  pleasure  is  restored 
By  ease  and  gay  "delight. 
The  day  is  far  spent  the  night's  our  own 
Lets  cherish  well  our  soul, ' 
If  any  pain  tjr  care  remain. 
Why  drown  it  in  a  bowl. 

This  world  they  say  is  a  world  of  woe, 

But  that  I  do  deny^ 

Can  sorrow  from  a  goblet  flow. 

Or  pain  from  beauty's  eye. 

The  night's  far  spent  the  morn^  our  own 

Let's  moisten  well  our  soul 

If  any  care  or  pain  remain. 

Why  drown  it  in  a  bowl. 

The  time  flies  past  the  poets  si»g, 

and  surely  he  is  wiae. 

Rosy  wine  who  dips  his  wing, 

and  feel  it  as  it  flies. 

Be  wise  are  fools  in  all  thai    K'yn, 

Our  joys  for  to  controui^ 

if  any  pain  or  ciirf  remain, 

Wl  V  drown  it  in  a  ioowl. 


BANNOCKS 


AULD 


OF  BARLEY  MEAL.  Jl  QBTN  GRE I 


T 


J.  Catnach,  Printer,  2,  Monmouth  Coiirt, 
7  Dials,  London. 


j^TY  name  is  Argyle,  you  may  think  it  strange 

To  live  at  a  court,  and  never  to  change; 
AH  falsehood  and  flattery!  do  disdain, 
My  sacred  thoughts  no  deceit  remains. 
At  siege  or  battle  I  ne'er  was  disgrac'd, 
I  have  always  my  king  and  my  country  fac'd, 
Done  every  thing  for  my  country's  weal, 
And  feasted  on  bannocks  of  barley  meal. 

I'll  quickly  lay  dowa  my  sword  and  my  gun, 

Put  on  a  blue  bonnet  with  plaidey  abien, 

With  silk  tartan  hose,   and   my   leather  heel'd 

shoon. 
Then  I'll  become  a  bright  sprightly  loon; 
When  I'm  so  drest  from  top  to  toe, 
A  courting  away  to  Maggy  I'll  go, 
With  my  dirk  and  my  hanger  hung  down  to  my 

heel, 
She'll  feast  me  on  bannocks  of  barley  meal. 
Then  I'll  bring  a  rich  present  unto  my  dear, 
A  bunch  of  green  ribbons  for  Maggie  to  wear, 
All  this  I  will  give,  and  as  much  mair, 
If  she  would  but  go  to  Glasgow  fair. 
And  when  we  are  married,  wc^'ll  keep  a  cow, 
My  Maggie  will  milk  it,  and  I  will  plough  ; 
Feast  all  the  long  winter  on  beef  and  long  kail, 
And  whang  at  the  bannocks  of  barley  meal. 

If  ray  Maggie  should  chance  to  bring  forth  a  son, 
Let  him  light  for  his  king,   as  his  daddy  hath 
done,  (learn, 

And  send  him    to  Flanders  some   breeding  to 
Then  bring  him  to  Scotland  to  keep  a  farm. 
All  this  I  will  do,  and  industrious  be, 
Who  will  be  so  hap])y  as  Maggy  and  me, 
She'll  soon  turn  as  fat  as  a  Norvvay  seal, 
When  feasting  on  bannocks  of  barley  meal. 

Farewell  to  you  cities  and  towns  all  around, 
The  rattling  of  coaches  down  Drury-lane. 
Ye  bucks  of  the  fashion  I  bid  you  adieu, 
Your  loaring  and  swearing  I'll  leave  it  with  you. 
For  1  am  resolv'd  for  a  country  life, 
No  longer  to  live  in  that  sorrow  and  strife  ; 
I'll  off  to  the  Highlands  fast  as  I  can  drill, 
There  I'll  feast  on  bannocks  of  barley  meal. 


J.  Catnach,  Printer,  2,  Monmouth  Court, 
7  Dials,  London. 

VIAHEN  the  sheep  were  in  the  fauld,  and  the 

kye  at  hame. 
And  a  the  world  to  sleep  are  gane. 
The  waes  of  my  heart  fa  in  showers  frae  my  ee, 
When  my  gudeman  lies  sound  by  me. 
Young  Jamie  loo'd  me  weel,  and  he  sought  me 

for  his  bride, 
But,  saving  of  a  crown,  he  had  naething  beside. 
To  mak  that  crown  a  pound  my  J  amie  gae'd  to  sea 
And  the  crown  and  the  pound  were  baith  for  me 

He  had  nae  been  awa  a  week,  but  only  twa, 
When  my  mither  she  fell  sick,  and  our  cow  was 

stoun  awa, 
My  father  brak  his  arm,  and  jrty  Jamie  at  the  sea, 
And  Auld  Robin  Grey  came  a  courting  to  me. 
My  father  could  na  work,  and  my  mither  could 

na  spin,  (na  win, 

I  toiled  day  and  night,  but  their  bread  I  could 
Auld  Rob  maintain'd  them  baith,  and  with  tears 

in  his  ee. 
Said,  "Jenny,  for  their  sakes  0  marry  me  !" 

My  heart  it  said  nay,  I  look'd  for  Jamie  back, 
But  the  wind  it  blew  high,v«d  the  ship  it  was 

a  wreck,  '/* 

The  ship  it  was  a  wreck,  why  did  na  Jenny  die, 
And  why  do  I  live  to  say — (>  wae  is  me  ? 
Auld  Robin  argued  sair,  though  my  mither  did 

na  speak,  *_  (break, 

She  looked  in  my  face  till  my  heart  was  like  to 
So  I  gied  him  my  hand,  though  my  heart  was  at 

the  sea,  ^ 

And  Auld  Robin  Gray's  gudeman  to  me. 

I  had  na  been  a  wife  a  week^^kit  only  four, 
When,  sitting  eae  mournfully  at  the  door,     (he, 
I  saw  my  Jamie's  wraith,  for  i  could  not  think  it 
Till  he  said — '*Ive  come  bacK  for  to  marry  thee." 

0  sair  did  we  greet,  and  muclle  did  we  say, 
We  took  but  ae  kiss,  and  we  tore  ourselves  away, 

1  wish  I  were  dead,  but  I'm  no  like  to  die. 
And  why  do  I  live  to  say — O  wae's  me ! 

I  gang  like  a  ghaist,  and  carena  to  spin, 

I  dare  na  think  of  Jamie,  for  that  would  be  a  sin  : 

But  I'll  do  my  best  a  gude  wife  io  be, 

For  Auld  Robin  Gray's  kind  to  me. 


I 


THE  RETURN 

OF  THE  ADMIRAL 


HOW  gallantly,  how  merrily. 
We  ride  along  the  sea  ! 
The  morning  is  all  sunshine, 
The  wind  is  blowing  free ; 
Xlie  billows  are  all  sparkling, 
And  bounding  in  the  light, 
Like  creatures  in  whose  sunny  veins, 
The  blood  is  running  bright. 

All  nature  knows  our  triumph. 

Strange  birds  about  us  sweep — 
Strange  things  come  up,  to  look  at  us, 

The  masters  of  the  deep, 
In  our  wake,  like  any  servant, 

Follows  even  the  bold  shark, 
Oh,  proud  must  be  our  Admiral, 

Of  such  a  bonny  barque. 

Oh,  proud  must  be  our  Admiral, 

Through  he  is  pale  to-day. 
Of  twice  five  hundred  iron  men, 

Who  all  his  nod  obey  ; 
Who've  fought  for  him,  &  conquer'd, 

Who've  won  with  sweat  and  gore  ! 
Nobility,  which  he  shall  have, 

Whene'er  he  touch  the  shore. 

di,  would  I  were  an  Admiral, 

To  order  with  a  word. 
To  lose  a  dozen  dropsof  blood, 

And  straight  rise  up  a  lord  j 


I'd  shout,  to  yon  sharks  there. 
Which  follow  in  our  lee, 

Some  day  ril  make  thee  carry  me. 
Like  lightning  tLroiigh  the  sea. 

Our  Admiral  ^^rew  paler, 

And  paler  as  we  flew, 
Still  talk'd  he  to  the  officers, 

And  smiled  upon  the  crewj 
And  he  looked  up  at  the  heavens, 

And  he  look,d  down  on  the  sea. 
And  at  last  he  saw  the  creatures. 

That  was  following  in  our  lee, 

He  shook — "'twas  but  an  instant. 

For  speedily  the  pride. 
Ran  crimson  to  his  heart, 
T  ill  all  chances  he  defied  ; 
It  threw  boldness  on  his  forehead, 

Gave  firmness  to  his  breath. 
And  he  lookM  like  some  warrior. 

Now  risen  up  frotn  death. 

That  night  a  horrid  whisper. 

Fell  on  us  where  we  lay, 
And  we  knew  our  fine  old  Admiral, 

\Vas  changing  into  clay ! 
And  we  heard  the  pash  of  waters, 

though  nothing  we  could  see. 
But  a  whisile  and  a  plunge, 

Among  the  billows  on  our  lee. 

Till  morn  we  watch*d  the  body, 

In  its  dead,  and  ghastly  sleep  ; 
And  next  evening  at  sunset : 

It  was  flung  into  the  deep, 
And  never  from  that  moment ! 

Safe  one  shudder  in  the  sea, 
Saw  we,  or  heard  the  creature, 

Tlat  had  followed  in  our  lee. 


J.  Catnach,  Printer, 2,  3,Monmouth- 
CourtT  Dials. 


] 


BLUE-EYED 


J.  Catimcli,  Printer,  2  &  3,  ]Mo«niouth- 
Gourt,  7  Dials. 


/^NE  nfght  the  north  wind  load  did  bloAr^ 

The  rain  was  fast  descending,, 
The  bitter  cry  of  heartfelt  woe 
The  darken' d  sky  was  rending  ; 
When  callM  by  pity  tfv  the  door, 
Assail'd  by  toine  sad  ranger, 
A  shriek  was  heard;  oh!  aid  the  poor,. 
The  wretched  blue-eyed  stranger 

My  father  stood  with  frantic  air^ 

And  gazed  npon  the  maiden^ 

Whose  heart  was  broke  wi-th  sad  despnipy 

And  mind  with  sorrow  laden. 

His  bosom  throb'd  to  see  such  woe 

©pprcss  the  hapless  ranger. 

Then  loud  he  cried,  thy  pangs  forego. 

Thou  art  welcome,  blue-eyed  stranger. 

Her  eyes  now  op'd,  her  bosom  ceas'd 
To  pant  with  wi  d  •motion  ; 
Yet  while  her  thankful  love  increased 
Tear*  flaw'd  from  sorrow's  ocean  ; 
^Twas  gratitude,  that  source  so  good. 
That  mark'd  the  haplessranger, 
Vor  whom  returns  a  genuine  flood 
Fo  bless  theblae-eycd  stranger.^ 


HDH 

The  Blue-Eyed  Stranger. 


J.    Catnach,   Printer,   Moivniouth    Couri, 
7  Dials,   London. 

IT  was  in  the  pleasant  month  of  May, 

When  flowers  they  were  spriugiiigy 
As  I  was  walking  thro^  the  grove, 
I  heard  a  fair  maid  singing; 
She  sung  with  a  delightful  voice,. 
I  thought  she  was  some  raugery 
She  was  a  cltarmitrg  beauty  bright^ 
Just  like  the  blue-eyed  stranger. 
With  her  that  moment  I  was  strucky 
My  heart  did  beat  quite  airable. 
My  eyes  did  drop  a  flood  of  tears,  \ 
My  limbs  did  shake  and  tremble; 
Down  on  my  bended'knees  I  fell^ 
And  said,  my  dearest  ranger, 
I  hope  my  boldness  you'll  excuse. 
Are  you  the  blwe.eyed  stranger. 
As  soon  as  I  these  words  had  spoke^ 
She  stood  like  one  amazed, 
Then  nothing  could  she  say  at  all, 
But  still  on  me  she  ga/ed  ; 
My  dear,  said  f,  don't  troubled  be. 
Be  not  surprised,  sweet  ranger, 
Have  you  forgot  the  stormy  night, 
You  charming  blue-eyed  stranger.'^ 
You  came  unto  my  father's  house. 
When  the  rain  was  fast  descending, 
The  wind  blew  hard,  the  night  was  d»ir>' 
The  elements  were  rending; 
He  took  you.  in  under  his  roof. 
And  kept  you  safe  from  danger, 
I  am  the  son  of  that  same  man, 
i'ou  charming  blue-eyed  stranger*  ^ 

O  then  she  flew  into  my  arms. 
All  with  great  joy  and  pleasure. 
Then  I  embraced  this  fair  maid, 
With  kisses  out  of  measurfe; 
©hen  to  church  I  took  ray  flight, 
With  the  sweet  joyful  rangvr, 
ud  then  I  blets«d  the  hgigkt 
^vr  th«  bU«vj«4  itr^B. 


^ 


p- 


THE 


Joon  is  Up. 

JlCatnach,  Erinter,  2,  Monmouth-court,!  Dials, 


V 


Tlll^i^i  is  up  !  her  silv'ry  beam 
Shines  bow'r  and  grove,  and  mouii- 
taiu,  over  j 
A  flood  of  radiance  heaven  doth  seem, 
To  light  thee,  maiden,  to  thy  lover. 
If  o'er  her  orb  a  cloud  should  rest, 

'Tis  but  thy  cheeks' soft  blush  to  cover; 
He  waits  to  chusp  thee  to  his  breast, 
The  moon  is  up !  go  meet  thy  lover. 

The  moon  is  up!  round  beauty's  shrine, 
Ix)ve's  pilgrims  bend  at  vesj)er  hour; 

Earth  breathes  at  heaven,  &  looksdivine. 
And  lovers'  hearts  confess  her  })ower. 
If  o'er  her  orb,  &c. 


FJl  O^M  J^IS  TA  JV  T   L  A  N  IK 

Jj'^KOM  distant  climes  a  troubador, 
^  ,  -   ^.  I  make  in  every  court  my  stay, 
'Neath  rustic  porch  and  silken  dome, 

I  tune  my  merry  minstrel  lay. 
But  most  where  love  delights  to  dwell, 
'Mid  knights  who  sigh  for  lady's  hand. 
They  welcome  with  soft  music's  spell. 
The  troubador  from  distant  land. 

•Where  nectar  brims  the  rosy  bowl. 

My  soul  ill  ftstive  glee  can  join. 
And  mellow  ev'ry  sparkling  draught,* 

Like  sunshine  on  the  purling  vine. 
But  most  n  here  love  entwines  my  brow, 

With    garlands    wrought  by    lady's 

hand  ;  (find, 

'Neath  nioon-iit  bow'rs  you're  r»ure  to 

The  troubador  from  distant  land. 


Het/  the  Bonny 

BREAST-KNOTS 

J.  Catnach,  Printer,  2,  Moumoufh -court. 

HEV  the  bonny,  O  the  bonny, 
Hey  the  bonny  hreast-kuots  ; 
;Blythe  and  merry  were  they  a, 
When  they  put  on  the  brcast-ktiots. 
There  was  a  bridal  in  our  town, 
And  till'tthe  lasses  a'  were  bomi, 
Wi'  mankie  facings  o'  their  gowns, 
And  some  o'them  had  breast-knots. 

Singing,  Hey  the  b  jnny  &c. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  lads  convene, 
Some  clad  in  blue,  some  clad  in  green, 
Wi'  ehining^  buckles  i'  their  sheen, 
And  flowers  upon  their  waistcoats. 
Out  cam  the  wives  a'  wi'  applause, 
And  wish'd  the  lassos  happy  dnys, 
And  murkle  thought  they  o'  her  clacs, 
Especially  the  breast-knots. 

The  bride  was  young  the  bride  was  fair, 
W» faultless  form  an'  graccfi!.!  air,   _, 
.Her  looks  Ihey  w_ere  'yonti  a-  cornjijire, 
When  she  put  on  the  bieast  knots, 

Siiig-ing,  Hey  the  bonny,  O  the  b<*nny, 

Hey  the  bonny  breast-knots, 
Biythe  and  merry  were  they  a'  • 

When  they  put* on  the  breast-knots. 


^^4 


THE 


I. AST  FAKEWEI.I.O 

OFare  you  \^ell,  young  William  cried 
The  last  farewell  he 'ever  sigh'd, 
For  William  was  ifi  battle  slain. 
Poor  Mary  never  smil'd  again. 

Fare  you  well  sounds  like  a  knell. 
When  those  we  love  bid  us  farewell ; 
For  there's  apangno  tongue  can  tell, 
When  those  Ave  love  bid  a  last  fare- 
well. 

Poor  Mary  oft  was  heard  to  mourn, 
'    My  true-love's  dead,  he'H  ne'er  return ; 
,   For  iu  the  battle!^  rage  he  fell. 

And  l)ade  the  world  and  me  farewell. 

Tho'  dead  and  gone  to  rest  in  peace, 
'   I  can't  forget  till  memory  cease. 
For  joys  that's  pa^t  on  memory.dwell, 
And  the  look  he  gave  when  he  bade  fare- 
'  well. 


KATE  KEARNEY. 

i\  Did  you  not  hear  of  Kale  Kearnv,  - 

She  lives  on  the  banks  of  Kill.irney 

From  the  glance  of  her  eye  shun  danger 

and  fly, 
For  fatal's  the  glance  of  Kate  Kearney  ; 
For  that  eye  is  so  modestly  beaming, 
You'd    ne'er     think   of    mischief    she's 

dreaming, 
Yet  Oh  I  can  tell  how  fatnl's  the  spell. 
That  lurks  in  the  eye  of  Kate  Kearney. 
Oh  should  you  e'ermeet  this  Kale  Kearney 
Who  lives  on  the  Banks  of  Killarney, 
Beware  of  her  smile  for  many  a  wile, 
Lies  hid  in  the  smile  of  Kate  Kearney  ; 
Though  she  looks  so  bewitchingly  simple, 
Tliere's  mischief  in  every  dimple,    Qgale, 
And  wlio  dare  iniiale  her  mouth's   spicy 
Must  die  by  the  breath  of  Kate  Kearney. 

ANSWER. 
^y  kes  I  have  seen  this  Kate  Keai-ney, 
Who  lives  near  the  lake  of  Killarney 
From  her  love  beaming  eye  what  mor- 
tal can  fly,  [ney  ; 
Unsubdued  by  the  glance  of  Kate  Kear- 
For  that  eye  so  bewitchingly  beaming, 
Assures  me  of  mischief  she's  dreaming;' 
And  I  feel  'tis  in  vain  to  fly  from   the 

chain. 
That  binds  me  to  lovely  Kate  Kearney. 
At  eve  when  I've  met  this  Kate  Kearney 
'U^he  flower  mantled  banks  of  Killarney 
ri<3v  smile  would  impart  thrilling  joy  to 

imy  heart, 
>rts  Igaz'd  on  the  charming  KateKearney; 
0\)  the  banks  of  Killarney  reclining. 
My  bosom  to  rapture  resigning, 
I've  felt  the  keen  smartof  love's  fatal  dart, 
And   i.'.hard   the    warm    sigh   of  Kate 
^isarnejr. 


BOYN  WATER 

JUIiY  the  first  at  old  Bridyu  town, 
There  happen'd  a  g-lorions  battle. 
Where  many  a  man  lay  on  the  ground. 

By  the  cannon-  t';at  did  rattle  ; 
Kins:  James  he  pitch 'd  his  tents  between^ 

The  lines  for  to  retire. 
But  William  threw  in  his  red  shot. 

And  set  them  all  on  fire. 
Thereat   the  enemy  vow'd  reveng^e, 

Against  king-  William's  forces. 
And  oft  did  cry  most  vehemently, 

That  they  won  Id  stop  their  courses  , 
A  bullet  from  the  Irish  came," 

Which  graz'd  kin^  William's  shoulder, 
They  thong-ht  his  Majesty  had  been  slain. 

But  it  did  make  him  still  the  bolder. 
Duke  Schomberg- with  friendly  care, 

The  king"  did  caution. 
To  shun  the  spot  where  bullets  hot. 

Retain  their  rapid  motion  ; 
But  William  said,  he  don't  deserve 

The  name  of  fnith's  defender, 
That  will  not  venture  life  and  limbs, 

To  make  a  free  surrender. 
The  horse  they  were  to  march  o'er  firtt. 

And  the  foot  to  follow  after. 
But  the  good  duke  Schomberg*  was  IK)  more 

By  venturing- over  the  water; 
Let  not  my  soldiers  be  dismayed. 

For  the  loss  of  one  commander. 
For  God  will  be  your  king:  this  day. 

And  1  a  general  under. 
The  cunning-  Frenchmen  near  Dundalk 

Had  taken  up  their  quarters. 
And  feiic'd  themselves  on  every  side. 

Wailing:  for  their  new  orders, 
But  in  tlie  mid  time  of  the  night, 

Tiiey  set  their  tields  on  firo, 
And  bcCore  the  morning  light. 

To  Dublin  did  retired 
The  protestants  ot  Drogheda, 

Have  reason  to  be  thankful. 
For  when  they  were  prisoners  bouiid 

They  were  but  scarce  a  handfuJ  ; 
First  to  Tliolsel  they  were  brougni, 

And  next  to  Mil -mote  after. 
But  good  King  William  set  them  free 

By  venturing  over  the  water. 
But  let  us  all  kneel  down  and  pray. 

Now  and  for  ever  r*"ler. 
And  never  more  forg  "  Jhe  day. 

King  William  crosi  i  Boyn  Waier. 


Death  of  Parker. 

CMMch,  Printer,  «,  Monmouth  Court, 
7  Dials. 

YE  Gods  above  protect  the  widow. 
And  with  pity  look  down  on  oif, 
Help  me,  help  me,  out  of  trouble, 

Andoutof  all  calamity. 
For  by  the  death  «f  my  brave  I^arfeer, 

Fortune  ha»  prov'd  tome  unkinU  ; 
Tho'  doora'd  by  law  he  wa»  to  «ffer,  J 

I  cau't  erase  him  from  my  mnid. 
Parker  he  was  my  lawful  husband, 

My  bosom  friend  1  lov'd  so  dear ; 
At  the  awful  moment  he  wai  going  to  suffer 

I  was  not  uUowed  to  come  near. 
In  vaitt  I  strove,  in  vain  I  ask'd. 

Three  times  o'er  and  o'er  again 
But  they  replied,  you  must  be  denied. 

You  must  return  on  shore  again. 
Firtttime  I  attempted  my  love  to  see, 

I  was  obliged  to  go  away,         .  ^^.,   - 
Oporess-d  with  grief,  and  broken  hearted. 

To  think  that  they  s»»«"'«l '"%"f^  * 

thought  I  saw  the  yellow  flag  flymg, 

A  signal  for  my  husband  to  die, 

gan  was  fired,  as  they  required. 

As  the  time  it  did  draw  nigh. 
The  boat-wain  did  bis  ^^^^}^;.^^l^'^ 

A«  a  siirnal  of  farewell. 

Every  moment  I  thought  an  hour. 
Till  the  law  its  course  bad  run, 

I  wishM  to  finish  the  doleful  task 
His  imprudence  had  begun, 
the  dead  of  the  night 'tis  silent, 
Anrl  all  the  world  are  fast  asleep 
And  all  ine  ^o|'"  ,    ,  u^q^^s  no  comfort 

My  trembling  heart  ^»ia;J"^ 
O'er  his  grave  does  often  wev.  . 

«ach  linge'ring  ™inf  ^^.VsC' 
Brings  me  nearer  ^o.tbat  shore, 
Whe  1  we  shall  shine  in  endVebS  glory 

Never  to  be  parted  more. 
Farewell  Parker  thou  bright  geaittt, 

Thatwa*ence,myonypr<^, 
Tbo'  parted  now  it  ^von't  be  long, 
Vi  I'm  buried  by  thy  side, 
fyoa  that  see  •y  tender  dtty, 
Wtlaughatmemduda^B. 
p,ilook  dowa  with    1«  •(»«▼. 
iayM'7     "l"' 


THE 


WOODPECKER. 


Hntedby  J.CHtnach,2,Monmoutb-court,  7  Dials,  Pri- 
»ers  and  Batt,ledorcs  sold  Cheap, 


And 

A  heart  that  is  humble  migh  tbope  for  it  here. 
tveryleaf  was  at  rest  ,«d  Ikeard  not  asoi.nd, 
But  the  woodpecker  tapping  the  hollow  beech  tree. 
And  here  in  this  lone  liiili;  wooa,  1  exciHiiu  u, 

With  a  maid  who  was  lovely  to  soul  and  to  eye; 
Who  wouldbliish  whenlprais'dher,  and  weep  iflblam'd; 
How  blest  could  I  live,  and  how  ealm  could  1  die. 

By  the  shade  of  yon  sumach,  whose  red  berry  dips 
In  the  gush  of  the  fountain,  how  sweet  to  recline, 

And  to  know  that  I  sigh'd  upon  innocent  lips, 
Which  ne'er  had  been  sigh'd  on  by  any  but  uiioe. 

>$>*>^  ^^■^^'^'^^^^^^^^ 
THE 

LEGACY. 

WHEN  in  death  I  shall  calm  recline, 
Oh!  bear  my  heart  to  my  mistress  dear  ,■ 
Tell  her  it  liv'd  upon  smiles,  and  wine 

Of  the  brightest  hue,  while  it  linger'd  here. 
Bid  her  not  shed  one  tear  of  sorrow, 

To.sully  a  heart  so  brilliant  and  light ; 
But  balmy  drops  of  the  red  grape  borrow, 

Ta bathe  the  relic  from  morn  till  night. 
W^hen  the  light  of  my  song  is  o'er, 
•  Obear  my  harp  to  your  ancient  hall  ; 
Hang  it  up  at  that  friendly  door. 

Where  weary  travellers"  love  to  call. 
And  should  some  bard  that  roams  forsaken. 

Revive  Us  soft  notes  when  passinsr  alonsf 
O!  let  onQ,tlioaght  of  its  master  waken 

Your  warmest  smile  for  the  child  of  song 
Take  this  cup  that   s  now  o'erfiowing, 

Tq  grace  your  revels  when  I'm  at'rest; 
Never,  O  !  never,  its  balm  bestowing  , 

On  lips  that  heanty  hath  seldom  blest. 
But  should  some  warm  devoted  lover, 

To  her  he  loves  once  bathe  its  brim, 

!   then  my  spirit  around  shall  hover, 

Tfl  hallow  eacfl  drop  tha  tfoxK  s  forli  im. 


THE 


SOLDIER'S       • 

DREAM. 


J.  Catnach,  Printer,  2,  Monmoutb-court,  7  Dials.i 


OUR  bugles  sung  truce  for  the  night-cloud  had  lower' 
And  the  centinel  stars  set  the  watch  in  the  sky. 
And  thousands  had  sunk  on  the  ground  overpower'd; 

The  weary  to  sleep,  and  the  wounded/to  die. 
Wlien  reposing  that  nighton  my  prtlletof  straw, 

By  the  wolf-scaring  faggot  that  guarded  the  slain, 
In  the  dfcad  of  the  night  a  §weet  vision  1  saw, 
And  twice  ere  the  cock  crew,  I  dreamt  it  again. 

Ale  thought  from  the  battle-fields's  dreadful  array, 

Far,  far  had  I  roam'd  on  a  desolate  track, 
Till  nature  and  sunshine  disclos'd  the  sweet  way 

To  the  house  of  my  fathers,  that  welcom'd  me  back. 
1  flew  to  the  pleasant  fields,  travers'd  so  oft 

In  life's  morning  march,  when  my  bosom  was  voubb 
heard  my  own  mountain-goats  bleating  aloft,     ' 

And  well  new  the  strain  that  ike  corn-reapers  sung. 

Then  pledg'd  we  the  wine  cup,  and  fondly      wore, 

From  my  home  and  my  weeping  Ciiends  never  to  pai  t  • 

My  little  ones  kisg'd  me  a  thousand  times  ocr. 

And  iny  wife  sobb'd  aloud  in  the  fulness  of  heart— 
tay,  stay  with  us,  rest— thou  art  weary  and  worn 
And  fain  was  the  war -broken  soldier  to  stay; 

But  sorrow  return'd  with  the  dawning  of  morn,' 
^/»niJ  the  voice  ia  my  dreami     ear  melted  awftj. 


PMjL  jojves. 


^.     BtiHidi,  Printe    2,  &  3,  Msamovth  Ccmrtt 
Dials. 

L 

AN  AmericAn  frigate,  call'd  tlia  Richard  by  nam&> 
Mounted  guns  forty-fonr,  from  New  York 
she  came, 
To  cruise  in  the  channel  of  oli  England's  fama, 
With  a  noble  commander,  Padl  Jones  was  his  nam€. 

We  had  not  cruised  long,  before  two  sails  sue 

espied, 
A  large  forty-four,  and  a  twenty  likewise, 
Fifty  bright  shipping,  wsll  loaded  with  stores, 
And  the  convoy  stood  in  for  tlie  old  Yorkshire  shore. 

Bout  the  hour  of  twelve,  w«  came  alongside 
With  long  speaking  trumpet;  whence  came  you,  he 

cried. 
Come  answer  me  quickly,  1  hail  you  no  more* 
Or  else  a  broadside  into  yoa  I  will  pour.  . 

We  feught  them  four  glasses,  four  glasses,  so  bat) 
Till  forty  bold  seamen  lay  dead  on  the  spot, 
Anid  fifty-five  more  lay  bleeding  in  gore, 
While  the  thund'ring  large  cannons  of  Paxil  Jones 
did  roar. 

Otir  carpenter  being  frightened,  to  Paul  Jones  did 

^  -say. 
Our  ship  she  leaks  water  since  fighting  to-day, 
Paul  Jones  he  made   answer  in  the  height  of  hte 

pride, 
If  we  can  do  no  better,  we'll  sink  alongside. 

Paul  Jones  he  then  smiled,  &  to  his  men  did  Bay, 
Let  every  man  stand  the  best  of  his  play. 
For  broadside  for  broadside  they  fought  on  the  main, 
Like  trne  buckskin  heroes  we  retura'd  it  again. 

The  Ceraphus  wove  round  our  ship  for  to  rake. 
Which  made  the  piond  hearts  of  the  English  to  aoH 

he  shot  flew  so  hot,  we  could  not  stand  it  long, 
TiM  the  bold  British  colours  from  the  English  cam 
down. 

Oh  now  my  nravc  boys,  we  have  taken  a  rich  pfiao 
A  large  fori v -lour,  and  a  twenty  likewise: 
To  bel|i  t>.e  poor  mothers  that  have  reason  to  weep. 
For  the  loss  of  their  sons  in  the  unfathomed  d««p. 


The  Wandering 

S  .A  r  O  YA  R 


Singing  hy  Mr.  Mear.s-  at  Vaujchaft 
Gardens. 


Tune — How,  VV  hen,  and  where? 


A 


.}.  CATNACil,  Printer,  3Ionmouth-Co7a ^ 

}\  !  hear  the  wandering  Savoyard's  tale 
With  my  wild  guitar  I'll  breathe  a 
strain. 
Whose  I'lainlive  notes  in  my  native  vale 

Have  never  sigh'd  in  vain. 
And  raany  an  hour  my  love  to  tell, 
To  her  lattice  I've  eagerly  flown, 
As  the  evening  chime  of  the  vesper  bell, 
Played  over  the  broad  Garonne. 

in  the  graceful  dance  and  sprightly  song, 
By  the  moon's    bright    rays,  my  pret*^ 
Brunette, 
I've  led  her  forth  in  the  rustic  throng, 

To  the  sound  of  the  caatinet. 
And  memory  dear  will  ever  burn. 

For  the  scenes  of  my  peaceful  home, 
While  1  sigli  for  the  days  that  may  neve 
return, 
On  the  banks  of  the  broad  Garonne. 
Then  list  the  wandering,  &c. 


1  Love  her,  how   1 
Love  her. 


I 


L.^ve  her,  how  1  love  her, 
Though  mine,  alas!  she^neer  can^b 


^he  sun  that  shines  above, 
Is  far  less  bright  to  me. 
The  time  by  'ears  1  measure, 
1  prixe  my  fatal  treasure, 
And  ieel  a  fatal  pleasure. 
In  suffering,  dear  love,  for  tbee.l 
Deep  in  my  bosom   concealing  the 
flame.  ^        (my  Hps^ 

That  consumes  me,  ne'er  e'er  to  thee. 
All  the  woes     feel, 

rrhe  ^oice  c  f  honour  1  obey,        ^bmkf 
friendship's  ftacr««i  en* 


fierce 
vea 


THE 

Finikin   Lass. 

pz-inted  hy   J.  Catnach, — Sold  by  W.  Marshall,  Bristol . 

HEN  I  was  a  bnxom  young  fellow,  just  tum'dof 
twenty-four, 

I  married  a  handsome  young  lady, as  many  had  dono  before 
So  tenderly  rear'd  from   her  cradle,  and  in    a  ebarding- 

scliool  bred,  (wed. 

My  sorrows  began  to  creep  on  mo  the  very  first  day  I  was 
So  beware  of  those  finikin  la;sses,  &  never  by  beauty  be  led 
For  the  girl  that  all  other  surpasses  is  one  that  works  for 

her  bread. 
I  jnirchas'd  a  fine  leg  of  mutton, said  I,  my  dear,  boil  this 

for  dinner  (thinner. 

For  fear  my  new  undertakings  should  make  my  jaws  grow 
The  potatoes  she  bn-l'd  in  th«  dirt,  the  fat  she  skimm'd 

olfu'itli  thefioth  (and  broth. 

She  took  tiie  white  sand  for  oatraeal,and  so  spoil'd  mutton 
One  morning  I  came  to  my  breakfast,and  found  her  asleep 

in  bed,  (was  dead, 

Such  doings  I  could  not  bear,  and  I  wish'd  in  my  heart  she 
A  basin  of  thin  water  gruel  she  quickly  got  ready  for  me. 
And  when  to  my  work  I  was  gone,  for  herself  she  had  sip- 
pets and  tea. 
She'i  always  a  reading  of  novels  instead  of  repairing  my 

clothes  :  (up  her  nose. 

If  her  fingers  she  happens  to  soil  like  a  rabbit  she  turns 
She  washes  her  face  once  a  week,and  her  stockings  always 

are  down,  (her  gown. 

Slie  makes  nj)  the  fire  in  gloves,  and  wipes  off  the  dirt  on 
It  happeu'd  one  Christmas-Eve,  I  having  a  keg  of  brown 

beer,  cheer, 

I  invited  a  party  of  friends  to  partake  of  my  Christmas 
But  when  we  sat  down  to  snpper,Odear  how  ashamed  was  I 
l\Iy  larder  box  found  in  a  custard,   my  shaving  box  in  a 

mince-pie.  (are  sore. 

Whenever  she  washes  my  shirt  she  says  that  her  fingers 
Which  happens  but  once  a  month,  of  troubles  she  gets 

great  store.  a  dollar 

And  when  that  she  irons  the  same,  I'll  venture  to  wage 
She  Binges  the  body  and  sleeves,  and  leaves  half  the  dir 

on  the  collar.  (to  pay 

At  last  I  agreed  with  my  landlord, my  rent  once  a  quarter 
B*Jt  two  or  three  times  in  a  week  1  could  see  him  coming 

this  way.    ' 
Suspicion  arose  jn  a  hurry,  and     tor  to  watch  being  bent. 
Caught  h«r  at  iength  in  the  cellar,  just  as  she  was  paying 

her  tfX. 
Wa  ever  a  mort  «1  on  earth  half  so  plagued  with  awomnn 

as  I   }  (her  to  die, 

gir«j  all  the  old  shoes  in  my  shop  »f  I  ceuld  but  persuade 

Then  1   should  be  free  from  all  care,  my  time  would  so 

uerriljpass;  lass^ 

■  [would  marry  the  devil  then  I'd  r  •*      a  boardin  -schoo. 


THE   NEW 

Mary  Neii. 

Printed  by  J.  Catnach,2,  Monmcu 
Court,  Seven  Dials. 

Longtime  I  lov'd  a  damsel  young, 
Mos-t beautiful  and  fair; 
And  with  her  soft  bewitching  tongue 

She  did  my  heart  ensnare. 
And  ever  since,no  peace  of  mind. 

Or  comfort  can  I  feel. 
All  through  this  rose  of  womankind. 
Her  name  is  Mary  Nejl. 

Full  many  a  beauty  have  I  seen, 

Who  strove  to  gain  my  love. 
But  none,except  this  chariningQueon 

Did  my  affections  move. 
My  heart  is  pain'd  with  love's  alarms 

Which  I  cannot  conceal, 
A  willing  captive  to  the  charms 

Of  lovely  Mary  Neil. 

She's  fairer  than  the  morning  star, 

That  greets  the  dawn  of  day. 
Her  skin  is  soft  and  whiter  far. 

Than   the  blossom  on  the  sprayj 
Her  ci^sks  the  rose  in  June  outvie, 

What  charms  her  lij)S  reveal, 
A"d  raven  black's  the  sparkling  eye 

Oflovely  Mary  Neil. 

To  make  a  present  for  my  lefe, 

I'll  rise  by  break  of  day. 
And  search  the  woodlands 4*  the  grove 

To  cull  the  sweets  of  May, 
And  if  my  rural  gift  should  please. 

How  happy  will  I  feel; 
im  smile  my  drooping  heart  would 

From  charming  Mary  Neil.     ( 

As  Phoebus  does  the  stars  outsbino 

And  in  the  diamond's  blate 
I'he  glow-worm  fades  —so  she  divine 

Is  fairest  of  lie  r  days. 
Ve  gods  atteud  a  lover's  prayer 

To  you  I  now  appeal 
]n  wealth  i.  ask  uo  gic,atei  share 

Thanlovp  an  d  Upxy  Nei| 


''%\ii 


-^m-^ 


^^w^ 


THS  BATTLE  OF 

ALGIERS. 

}  Cfttnarh,  Printer,  9,  Monmoutb-court,  f  t)ials. 

jrf"^  fME  all  you  Britons  stout  and  bold,  that  love  your  aa- 
%^  '  live  land. 

Rejoicing  in  our  victory,  Lord  Exraouth  gate  command 
\jOfd  Exinmiili  will  your  rights  maintain,  as  you  sliall  plain- 
ly see, 
itrw  yi^  fought  like  any  iioos  bold,  to  fct  the  Cluristians  free 

CHORUS 

f^Hi  British  tars  be  steady,  and  maintain  your  glorious  name 
You  will  ever  find  Lord  Exmouth  to  lead  you  into  fame. 

On  thu  twenty-seventh  of  July,  in  Plymouth  sounds  wa  lay, 
liord  E\inoulh  made  a  signal  cur  anchors  for  to  weigh. 
We  exercised  our  great  guns,  believe  me  what  I  say, 
Tbat  we  might  do  the  best  we  could  upon  that  glorioiis  day. 

When  we  came  to  Gibraller,  for  three  days  there  we  lay 
Onr  cabins  there  wp  all  knockotl  down,  our  decks  we  cleared 

V  away. 

That  nothing  in  our  way  might  bo  for  we  their  batteries  saw, 
Prepar'd  to  send  the  burning  shots  upon  our  decks  below. 

On  t)je  twenty  ievenlh  of  Aup'u;*  just  by  the  break  of  day. 
We  espied  the  city  of  Algiers  to  windward  of  us  lay. 
All  hands,  all  hands  to  quarters,  it  was  the  general  cry. 
Come  load  your  guns  with  round  and  grape,  before  we  draw 
too  nigh. 

The  first  was  the  Queen  Cliarl arte,  so  noblv  led  the  van. 
She  was  followed  by  the  Superb,  Captain  Atkins  gave  com- 
The  rrexi  was  the  Leander,  with  all  her  warlike  crew,(mand 
She  wasfollwY^'d  by  tlieImpregnable,Reai  Admiral  of  thcjilue 

Now  next  k  was  the  Albion,  what  I  relate  is  true,  (true, 
The  Mending  and  the  Sovereign,  tliey  fought  with  courage 
The  Hebrew,  Gravil   and  Glasgow,  so  well  their  parts  (lid 

play, 
The  Afgerinesfrom  their  batteries  they  strove  to  run  away. 

Now  it  is  of  six  Dutch  frigates,  that  did  onr  fleet  combine. 
Their  Admiral  a  siirnal  made  for  them  to  form  aline, 
They  anchored  by  our  batteries  their  admiral  to  them  said. 
Take  pattern  by  those   English  lads,  iliey  shew  you  gallant 
play. 

N«w  there's  one  thing  more  that  I  resale  which  is  to  be  ad- 
At  five  o'clock  that  afienioon  we  set  the  sliij)s  on  fire  (mired. 
Our  rocket  ships  and  bomb  ships,  so  well  tiieir  parts  did  play 
TTie  Algerines  from  their  batteries  were  forced  to  run  a^'ay. 
Pfow  th<'  trlorio-i^  action's  over.  Christians  are  set  free, 
ThcAlgeruies  are  boiiiid.k.wn  no  more  for  slavery,  (declare, 
Brtt  if  they  break  those  terms  of  peace,  Lard  Exmouth  doth 
If  he  should  visit  them  again,  not  one  of  them  he'll  spare. 
Now  WT*  .1  verse  I'll  finish  and  completelvend  my  song. 
Here's  »  health  to  I^^rd  Exmouth,  and  mavhis  days  betonft 
Wc  will  hotiowr  Capiabi  Atkins,  and  his  officers  so  true, 

iTbe  phy  uirs  end  loval  muiines  thai  fought  under  the  trtie 
i  Uiw- 


HONESl' 


J.  Catnach,  Printer,  2,  .Monmouth  court,  7  Di;i!s. 

"YyHEN  ^vild   wars  deadly  blast  was  blawn,   and  irci;;.- 
peace  returning,  (innurtiiiu'. 

And  eyes  again  wi'  pleasure  i)cam'd  that  had  been  l;ie;trM  v.';' 
I  left  the  line.s  and  tented  fields  wlu-re  long  I'd  bfe:i  a  iu.:-ci , 
A  humble  kn;ipsark  a'  my  wealth,  a  poor  but  houcsj  smi-i  r 

A  leel  light  heart  beat  in  my  breast  my  hand  un.st;iin'J  wiih 

plunder. 
And  for  auld  Scotia  hame  again  T  clicerly  on  did  wan  Jt-r. 
I  Ihoughtuponthebanksof  Coil, I  thought  upon  my  Nnncy. 
I  thought  upon  the  wiichin^^  smile  that  cauglst-  my  yoiithi'if 

fancy. 

At  length  I  reached  the  bonny  gleii  whore  early  !i(e  [  spones 
I  past  the  mill  and  trysting  thorn  where  Nancy  oft  I  conitrd, 
Wha  spied  I  but  my  ain  dear  maid  down  by  her  moih.  r'i 
dwelling  (swoliing 

And  turn'd  me  round  to  hide  the  flood  that  in  my   e'e  was 

Wi*  alter'd  voice  quoth  I,  sweet  lass,  sweet  as  yon  hawilioius 
blossom, 

0  happy,  happy  may  he  b«,  that's  dearest  to  thv  boso:.i, 
My  purse  is  light,  I've  far  to  gang,  and  fain  would   be  ihy 

lodger, 
I've  served  my  king  and  country  long,  take  pity  on  a  sodtjer. 
Sae  wistfully  she  gaz'd  on  mo,  and  lovelier  arew  than  evrr, 
Quoth  she  a  sodger  once  I  lov'd,  forget  lumj'shaM  I  never, 
Our  luimble  cot  and  hamely  fare,  ye  frerly  shall  partake  '.'t. 
That  galkuit  badge  the  dear  cockade,  yoirie  welcome  for  iho 

sake  o't. 

She  gaz'd,  she  redden'd  like  a  rose,  syne  i)a,e  a'?  ony  lily, 
She  sunk  within  my  -arms  and  cried,  art  thou    my'  ain'  dt-a-i 
Willie,  (garded 

By  him  who  made  yon  sun  and  sky, by  wh-Mn  trtie  love's  ro- 

1  am  the  man  and  thus  may  Mill  true  lovers  Le  rewarded. 
The  wars  are  o'er  and  I'm  coti'.e  iiano,  ami  find  theestlJl  (rue 

hearteti,  (i,e  parted, 

TTiough  poor  in  geer,  were  licli  m  !ov.',  and  iv.iy  we  ne'«f 
Quoth  she,  my  grandsire  left  megowd,  a  maiien'pli.-nir-Jie'J 

fairly.  (dearly. 

Then  come  my  faithful  sodger  lad,  lliou'rt  welcome  !o  i* 

For  gold  the  mvrchant  ploughs  the  main,  (ho  farmer  ploughs 

Llie  manor. 
But  glory  is  the  sodgd's  prize,  tbesodger's  wealth  is  h/UM.j  , 
The  brave  poor  sodger  iie\-r  il<?.spiv*,    nor  count  hiin  ,i«  i 

stranger,  ,,ri, 

R«uicn.bof  h^'^liis  cunaUT's  &<i)  m  die  day  ^■■.■,!  h,>mi  ■/•  i'  ■■ 


i# 


J 


I  LtOVm  MY  IIII.i:.§i,lIY 

3  LOVE  th    liills  my  nativp  hills.  | 

O'er  vshich  !iO  oft  r Ye  stray 'd, 
The  shady  trees,  the  miirin'rinsr  rills  | 

Where  I  in  childhood  plav'd, 
1  love  to  feel  the  bwjes-^s  blow 

Upon  t'^&  liiils  so  free;  I 

Where'er  1  am  wheroer  1  go. 

My  naive  hi  Isfor  ine. 
I  lov?  the  iiills  !iiy  native  hills, 

All  purple  with  tlie  hearth.  i 

Tbo«e  fertile  grouiids  the  pleasants  tills,  | 

And  the  woodland?  far  beneath.  , 

Ih^Msi  fenci«>d  joys  in  hope  1  view,  \ 

Wl  think  th>se  hil!s  I  see; 
hore'er  I  am  where'er  I  go,  . 

My  native  b'i.'ls  for  me,  ! 


THE  BRIDE. 


OL  !  taVe  her  and  be  faithful  stil« 

And  mav  the  bridal  vow 
Be  iacred  held  in  after  years. 

And  warmly  bresth'd  as  now, 
Retnenjber — 'tis  no  common  tio, 

That  binds  hor  youthful!  heart ; 
Tl«  (Hie  that  only  truth  could  weave, 

And  only  Death  can  jxirt. 
The  jwiadise  of  childhood's   hour, 

The  liomp  of  rJi)Pr  years, 
Tb«  treasui'd  scere  of  parly  youth, 

In  sunshine  and  in  tears. 
Thp  purest  hopes  her  bosom  Vnpw 

Whon  her  younji  heart  was  fi  e-o  •; 
AU  theiC  ftTid  more  she  now  resigns,. 

T*  bravo  the  world  with  thee. 
Her  lot  in  life  is  fixe<l  with  tht»e, 

Its  goi  d  and  ill  to  share 
And  well  I  know  'twill  be  her  p»fde 

To  Moth  each  sorrow  there 
Tben  take  her,  and  may  fleeting  t>Ri» 

SI«rk  only  Joy's  iscrease, 
And  may  yoilr  days  glide  sweetly  on 

lo  bappiaess  and  peace  I 


^'^&. 


1  'M  t 


'^ 


NEL.ISON'8 

raONUMENT. 

J.  Catnach,  Printer,  2  &  3,  Monmouth-Court,  7 
Dials.  &  at  14  Waterloo  Road,  (Late  Hill's.) 

Britons  long  expected  j^reat  news  from  our  fleet, 
Commanded  by  Lord  Nelson  the  frenchfor  to  meet 
At  length  the  news  came  over,  through  the  coun- 
try it  was  spread, 
That  the  French  were  defeated,  but  Nelson  was 
dead. 

Not  only  brave  Nelson,  btit  ihousands  were  slain' 
By  fighiing  of  the  French  iipori  the  watery  main 
To  protect  England's  glory,  its  huaor,  &  its  wealtk 
We  (ought  &  would  not  yield,  'till  we  yialisd  i  \ij 

de&th. 
The  merch«."t«(  of  Yarmouth  hearing  us  say  so, 
Said  come  brother  sailors  to  church  let  us  go. 
And  there  we  will  build  a  niost  beautiful  pile. 
In  ren» :'Tib' ranee  of  Nelson,  the  Hero  of  the  Nile 

Your  plan  says  Britannia,  is  excellent  good, 
A  n)onument  for  Nelson,  a  sword  for  CollingW(s.od 
Let  it  be  ol  polished  marbleto  perpetuate  his  name 
And  in  letters  of  gold  write,   '  He  died  for  En- 
gland's fame. 

A I  seamen  and  soldiers,  as  1  have  been  told, 
They've  order'd  themselves  in  readiness  to  hold, 
Their  fights  to  maintain,  their  cause  to  support, 
From  any  invasion  keep  each  British  port. 

Both  soldiers  and  sailor    mighty  deeds  they  have 

done, 
Their  sous  in  ir-  eign  parts  many  battles  have  won 
It  he  Nile  ccuid  but  speak,  or  Egyj.'t  •-'eclare, 
Al  the  world  with  Lord  Nelson  mey   could  not 
compare. 


TSBE    POOR  OI,l» 

WORN  OUT  SAII^OR 


Air.  The  Qirl  i  left  behind 


J.  Catnach,  Printer,  2  v   i.  ^T  )  i  no  it  i-'J  7 
Dials.  &  at  14  Waterloo  Hoad,  (l.ateHiil'g.) 

ONE  Summers  eve,  all  labour  o'er, 

And  birds  were  sweetly  singing' 
A  poor  old  tai,    worn  out  with  age 

Thro'  our  villajre  came  a  bey^ing. 
I  pitied  his  sad  mournful  tale,°^ 

For  at  pity  I'm  no  railer  3 
Pray,  bestow  your  charity  !   >iaid  he, 

On  a  poor  old  worn-out  Sailor. 

When  false  reports  came  hojue  1  was  dead 

My  poor  wife  died  broken-hearted 
My  daughter  she  roam'd,  1  knew  not  where 

And  for  ever  more  to  be  parted.  ' 

1  was  wreck'd  of  all  in  this  world  1  hehldear 

Poor  girl!  I  oft  bewail  her;  '    ' 

If  I  could  but  her  find,  she'd  a  comfort  be 

To  a  poor  old  worn-out   Sailor. 

Despise  my  hull,  I  pray  now  don't 

'Cause  I've  got  shabby  riggiijn- 
I'd  rather  work,  if  I  had'mylimrrs', 

Thau  I'd  be  seen  a  begging. 
For  I'm  like  a  ship  distress  d  at  sea 

Without  one  friend  to  hai!  her ' 

Then  pray  bestow  your  charity. 

On  a  poor  old    worn-out  .Sailor, 

As  thus  he  sang  his  mournful  tale, 

A  female  gazed  upon  him; 
She  burst  into  tears,  in  tra/isport  wild 

And  sank  upon  his  bosom.  ' 

O  father!  she  cried,  for  'twas  his  child 

Whose  duty  ne'er  had  fail'd  her;         ' 
Come  you  home,  and  liv*-  and  die  with  me 

You  poor  old  worn-out  Sailor.  ' 

For  I've  a  home,  and  a  husband  dear. 

Most  kindly  he  will  treat  you, 
Altho'  you're  poor,  and  cloth'd  in  rags, 
Right  welcome  he  will  greet  you, 
nd  when  you  resign  your  parting  breath, 
My  duty  shall  ne'er' know  failure, 
V   see  yoiilaid  in  your  silent  grave. 
You  poor  old  worn-out  Sailor. 


? 


■^ 


I 


WILL  WATCH 

THE  BOLD 

■    SMUGGLER. 

Catuach,  Printer,  2,  31onraouth-court,  7  DiaU 

T»VAS  one  morn  when  the  winds  from  the  northward  blew  ucct. 
A.ni  sullenly  ruarll  ih.i  big  wavei  ofthe  main;        , 
I'timud  fsiuuggler,  Will  Watch,  kilVd  his  Si^  then/erentij , 
^  .   Took  helm  and  to  fea,  boldly  fleer'd  out  again. 
*^U1  had  proinif'd  hi»  Sue  that  this  trip  if  well  ended, 
Shobld  coil  up  his  hopes,and  he'd  anchor  on  fliorc, 
"hert  his  pockets  were  lined,  why  his  life  fliouldbe  mendi-d, 
The  iawfe  fie  had  bhsken  he'll  never  break  more. 

iiib(ea  boat  was  trim,  n>ade  her  port  took  her  lading, 

Then  Will  flood  for  home  readi'd  the  ufRng  <!c  cried, 
Tiis  night  if  I've  luck  furls  the  fails  of  my  trading 

In  dock  1  can  lay,ferve  a  friend  too  befide.  ^ 

Sliil  lav  too  till  night  came  on  darkfome  and  dreary. 

To  croud  even   fail,  then  he  pip'd  up  all  hands, 
l^uta  fignalfoon  fpied  'iwas^  profpect  uncheerly, 

A  fignalthat  warn'd  him  to  bear  from  the  land. 

The  rhiliflines  are  out,  cries  Will  we'll  take  noheedon'i, 

A.tta(.h'd, -who's  the  man  that  will  flinch  from  his  gun 
bijDtiid  m)  head  be  blown  off  1  shall  ne'r  feel  the  need  on'i, 

We'll  fight  whiie  we  can, "^\  hen  we  ean't  boys  we'll  ran. 
Through  the  hart-  of  the  night  i  bright  flash  now  appcaruig  , 

Oho!    crie»  Will  Watch  the  Phililtines  bear  down, 
Bw-ai  a  hand  my  tig^ht  lads  e'er  ye  think  about  sheering. 

One  broadftde  pourin  should  we  Iwim  boys  or  drowu. 

£itt should  1  be  pop'd  off  you  my  mates  left  behind  tat,' 
il^  llegard  my  last  words  fee  them  kindly  obeyed, 
^^t  no  ftone  mark  the  fpot,  and  my  friends  do  you  mind  i/it, 
Jjear  lh»  beaci  is  the  graNe  where  Will  Watch  would  be  I  uid 
Foof  \\  iU'»  yarn  was  ipun  out,  for  a  bullet  next  minute, 
Lai  J  him  low  on  the  deck  and  he  never  (poke  more, 
'vj^ia  bold  ciew  tought  thtb  rig,W  hilea  fhot  rcmain'd  ir:  it . 
Thfcjvsheer'dand  Wili'shulk  cfh     fei.san  they  bore. 

nthe  dead  ofthe  night  hislast  with  was  complied  with, 
•lo  leu  knowu  hie  gtsve,ind  tofew  known  his  end 
lit  was  boinc  to  the  earth  by  the  cicw  that  he  died  v.  us.. 

Ht'd  the  pravers  of  kit  Sufan,  the  t«i"s  of  hit  friendi- 
l^'em  hw  g!»ved?th  the  billows,  tne  m?  inds  louftiy  bcUovi , 
A»  ash  struck  withlighimn?  poiuib  out  tlie  cold  t-cd 
hVie  Will  Vf  Rtsli  the  b»Jd  smuggter,  that  fa-n'd  lawlc^t,  feUow 


e^ 


'^  ^ 


riie  Heart  that  can  feel  fof 


0  '■T!^'   •*^'' 

J.  CniiuLL-h,  Primer,  i,  Mo!imo'atli-cotirt,.7  DiaJi'..  « 


Jsli 


Once  fc9r«d  now  forgot.  «leep  in  p-a^e  witk  the  dead 


JACK  STEADFASr  autl  I  were^JitUh  m 
mates  at  s<^.  *  ^^^^^ 

And  |)l(»ug-h'd  halflhe  woiM  o'er  Jogetiiert 
And  many  hot  batlli^  eneounlei'd  liave  we, 

Strano*e-c{iinate§,.nnd  all  soiti,  of  \V(  atliet. 
But  seamen  you  know  arc  in^ur'd  to  l»ard  uaf 

Doieniiin'd  to  stond  l)y.  eacli  oilieA 
AikI   the  boast  of  a  tar  wheresoever  he  ^siails, 

Is  the  heart  that  can  feel  for  another. 
WbeJi  often  sus^^mded  'iwixl  water  and  sky,  ' 

Aiid  death  N^wn'd  on  all  sides  aronnd  us, 
Jitck  Su-adfast  and  1  fcconi'd  lo  luurmur  or^si^li 

For  danuercoiid  never  confound  us, 

S'liooih  beas  and  ion<>U  billons  to  us  were  ih/j 

same,  i 

Contented  m  e  must  brave  one  or  I'oiLer,  'i 

And  like  jolly  tars  in  life'e.  chequer'd  gales,         i 

Give  the  heart  that  cau  feel  for  another. 

I'hns  smiling  at  l>erii  at  sea  or  on  shore,  ! 

>Ve  box'd  the  old  compass  right  cheerly. 
'I  oss'd  the  can,boys  about,  and  a  word  ^ore,         ] 

Ye)S  drink  to  the  girls  we  love  dearly, 
Fcr  sailors, ])ray  mind  me,  though  stranire  kit 
of  fish, 

Love  the  girls  just  as  dear  as  their  mother 

And  what's  more  they  love  what  1  hope  you  alii 

wish,  1 

is  the  heart  that  can  fe«l  for  auother.  \ 


/6 


OldFolks  at  home 

K  YLE&Co.,  Printers,  2 and  3,  MonmouOf 

Court,    Blooms  bur)'. 

— — — >'        '     I     ., 

V'lT^AY  down  upon  tlie  Swanf>e  river, 
^  Far,  far  away, 

Vbere's  where  my  he<irt  is  turn'nij  ever, 

There's  where  the  old  folks  stay  ; 
^Ilup  and  Jown  the  whole  creation, 

Sadly  1  roam, 
Strll  longmg  for  tlie  old  plantation, 
And  for  the  old  folks  at  home.* 

All  the  world  am  sad  and  dreaiy, 
Everywhere  I   roam, 
Oh !  darkit  s  how  my  heart  grows  weaty 
Far  from  the  old  folks  at  hom«^. 

All  Found  the  little  farm  I  wandered. 

When  I  was  young, 
Then  many  happy  days  I  squander'd. 

Many  the  song  1  sung. 
When  I  was  playing  wid  my  brudder, 

Happy  was  I, 
O,  take  me  to  my  kind  old  mudder, 

Dere  let  me  live  and  die. 

A  I'  the  world,  &c, 

Oiie  littje  hut  among  the  bushes, 

Oite  that  1  love, 
sti!l  sadly  to  my  memory  rushes, 

No  matter  where  I  rove, 
When  shall  1  hear  the  bees  a  humming 

kI\  around  the  comb, 
Whe«v  shall  I  hearthe  banjo  tummmg 
DowB  by  ole  houe. 


liong  parted  have  vre 
been, 

T  ONG  parted  have  we  been, 
-■-^  Many  troubles  we  have  seen, 
Since  the  weary  we  left  them  on  the  good  ola 

English  shore,^ 
AimI  we  took  a  last  farewell  to  return  to  then. 

no  more  ; 
But  they're  coming,  coming,  comino-. 

They  are  coming  with  the  flowers. 
They  are  con)ing  with  the  summer. 
To  tliis  new  land  of  ours. 

ud  we'll  forget  our  sadaess, 
And  shake  their  hands  ;in  gladness, 
Ai>d  bid  them  joyous  welcome,  to  this  new 
land  of  ours. 

How  often  have  we  pray'd, 
'i^u    'J'^^^y^^®''^  here  in  joy  array'd, 
I  he  friends,  the  dear  relations,  the  lovers^ 

fond  and  true. 
To  share  our  better  fortune,  and   all   tlio 

joys  we  knew. 
And  they're  cotniog;  coming,  coming, 
They  are  coming  with  the  flowed, 
Ihey  are  commg  with  the  summer,' 
To  thi»  new  land  of  ours.  ' 

And  we'll  give  them  cordial  greying, 
And  have  a  merry  merry  meetmg 
And  a    day  of  true  rejoicing,  in  this  ne« 
land  of  ours. 

In  ail  eur  happiness, 

XX7U     ^®''®.  **^°^'*^  *  joy  the  less, 

When  we  look'd  around  and  missUtuen.  - 

Irom  the  fireside's  cheerful  glow 
lb€  old  familiar  cemrades  that  we  lov'A 

so  long  ago, 
IJiit  they're  coming,  coming,  coming,  1 
They  are  coming  with  the  flowers, 
1  hey  are  coming  with  the  summer 
To  his  new  land  of  ours.  * 

It  needs  but  their  embracer 
And  all  their  shining  faces, 
To  make  us  quite  conten^ed.'in  this  new  lani 
nd  of  o«rs 


Whiskey  in  tiic  Jar. 

Ryle  &  Co.,  Printers,  2  &  3,  Monmouth  Court,  Seven  Dials 

T  AM  a  young  fellow  that  never  jet  was  daunted, 
■*■  And  ofientimes  had  money,  but  seldom  it  was  wanted. 
For  robbing  for  gold  it  was  my  own  folly, 
Paying  for  good  liquor  to  treat  deceitful  Molly. 

Musha  ring  a  ding  a  ra. 

As  I  was  going  over  Calvert  mountains, 
1  met  with  Captain  Everet,  his  money  he  was  counting, 
First  I  drew  my  pistols  and  then  I  drew  my  rapier 
taud  and  deliver,  for  1  am  your  deceiver. 

Musba,  &c. 

Oh  !  when  I  got  his  money,  it  was  a  pretty  penny, 
I  put  it  in  m}  pocket  and  took  it  home  to  Molly, 
^^Tien  she  swore  by  what  was  good,  that  she  never  would 

deceive  me. 
But  the  devil  take  the  women  for  they  never  can  be  easy. 

Musha,  &c. 

Being  both  wet  and  weary,  I  went  to  Molly's  ohaoibcr, 
I  went  to  Molly's  chamber  for  to  have  a  slumber, 
Tbea  she  flew  unto  my  pistols  and   she    loaded  them   with 
water, 
was  draged  out  of  my  bed  just  as  a  lamb  to  be  slaughtered. 

sha,  &c. 

It  was  early  next  morning  between  six  and  seven. 
Surrounded  by  policemen  and  likewise  Captain  Everet, 

fixed  oflf  my  pistols  and  powder,  but  was  mistaken. 
I  fired  off  the  water  and  a  prisoner  was  taken. 

Mash  a,  &c. 

There's  some  take  delight  in  fishing  and  fowling, 
While  others  lake  delight  in  hearing  cannon's  roaring 
But  1  take  delight  in  being  brisk  and  jolly. 
And  io  paying  for  good  liq  jor  to  treat  deceitful  Molly. 

Musha,  &c. 

Oh  !   I  have  go  two  brothers  and  lliey  are  in  the  army, 
One  is  iu  Cork  and  the  other  in  Killarney ; 

had  them  here  to  night  oh !  would'nt  I   make   them 

would  rather  have  them  heie  than  you  deceitful  MoHy. 

Musha  & 
1:  was  early  the  next  morning  between  six  aud  seven, 
When  up  against  my  cell  door  the  turnkev  he  went  bawling  , 
Then  I  out  with  my  sliackles  and  knoched  the  turnkey  down, 
And  1  made  m>  escape  out  of  sweet  Phillips  town, 

Musha,  Ste, 


GROUND  IVY 

LAST  April  morn  as  I  walk'd  forth,  ' 

1  rov'd  I  knew  not  where, 
i  heard  a  voice  so  loud  and  sw6w<, 
I  could  not  but  go  there. 

Her  grarb  was  mean  her  tattered  gown 

Upon  her  shoulders  hung, 
Wifh  blooming  cheeks  and  eyes  cast  dowR, 

And  as  she  walk'd  along. 

Come  here,  me  pretty  girl  says  I 

And  tell  to  me  your  name. 
All  in  your  basket  I  will  bay. 

Come  sell  to  me  the  same. 

1  thank,  you  now  kind  sir  she  said^ 

1  have  not  much  to  sell, 
And  if  you  buy  those  of  me., 

I  cry  no  more  to  day. 

Altho'  a  pleasant  girl  was  she. 

Her  forttine  would  not  smile,  ^ 

She's  more  than  fortune's  child  to  me 

Where  love  should  make  her  mine. 

I  gave  her  all  that  was  in  my  power, 

So  blythe  she  tript  away, 
I  never  shall  forget  that  happy  hour, 

I  heard  her  cross  the  way. 

Where  should  I  hear  in  lane  nr  street, 

Her  note  so  loud  and  sweet, 
I  long  my  blue  ey'd  girl  to  meet, 

And  hear  her  cry  again. 

WHEN  A  LITTLE  FARM  WE  KEKH. 

He — When  a  little  farm  we  keep, 

And  have  little  girls  and  boys, 
With  little  pigs  and  sheep, 
To  make  a  little  noise  ; 

Oh  what  happy  merry  days  we'll  see 
She- Then  we'll  keep  a  little  maid. 
And  a  little  man  beside, 
And  a  little  horse  and  pad, 
To  take  a  little  ride, 
With  the  children  sitting  on  c«t  kne 

He — The  boys  I'll  conduct, 
She-The  girls  I'll  instruct, 
He — In  reading  I'll  engage 

Each  son  is  not  deficient, 
She—In  music  I  presage 

Each  girl  is  a  proficient. 
He — Now  boys  your  Ba  Ba, 
She— Now  girls  your  Sol  Fa. 

Here  she  is  supposed  to  teach  a  girl  to  sutg 
and  he  to  teach  a  boy  to  read,  by  telling  liic 
little  stories. 

Both — When  a  little  farm  we  keep. 

And  have  little  girls  and  b«vt» 
With  little  pigs  and  sheep, 
To  make  a  little  noise, 

Wl  *t  h«M-«y  Bawrv  dayt  ^ro'H  ••• 


A 


THS  SHOP 

OM  nitis. 

Parody  on  "Tlie  Ship  on  Fire". 

Kyle,    a       f^Co.  Printers,  2  and  3,  Monmouth  Court 
Seven  Diale. 

|HE  s;<iose  on  the  shopboard  was  work'd  pretty  fast 
And  ihe  steam  rose  in  clouis  as  it  went   hissing 
paj't, 
As  heavily  labourfd  the  hard-working  Snip, 
Like  a  cioss  legg'd  old  Sultan,  the  cloth  on  his  hip. 
And  dnll  were  the  men — they  could  scarce  raise  a  Iau>;h 
Except  when  llie  guv'nor  sent  up  half  and  half, 
A  youns;  woman  set  in  thekitch'n  below 
And  calling  her  child  by  a  name  ruyther  low. 
She  bawled  to  its  did,  'midst  its  squaling  so  wild, 
Oil,  Bodkin!  dear  IJodkin,  come  do-xn  to  this  child  ! 

I  pass'd — tiie  young  brat,  very  quiet  did  lay, 
And  the  sliveys  like  winking  kept  stiiching  away, 
The  needles  shone  bright  in  ihe  sun — it  was  .Tune — 
And  a  chap  on  the  slio]  board  tr^ed  to  win.- tie  a  lune, 
There  was  joy  in  the  shop,  you  could  judge  by  their 

tone. 
And  fondly  within'em  they  wished  the  work  home, 
The  tailor's  wifa  hugged  her  young  hrat  to  her  breast 
And  she  sung-  Molly  Biwn,  cos  it  suited  l)er  best. 
And  her  hnsbcud  SAt  siitching  away  by  her  side, 
And  he  lnoked  once  or  twice  very  swcei  on   his  bride, 
How  happy  said  be  when  this  here  work  is  o'er. 
We'll  go  toGravesend,  if  we  can't  to  the  Nore, 
Already  in  fancy  the  steamers  I  spy. 
And  the  smoke  from  the  funnels  njounting  sl^y  high. 
The  Windmill  Hill  (Jreen,  wiib    the  swings  and  the 

stalls 
And  denkeys  to  ride  on  inclndinof  the  fills — 
Wiih  TuUey's  Bazaar,  and  the  famed  'livoli — 
How  icrumptions  lo  go  for  a  day  on  the  spree 

Il^rk  !  what's  tin*  row?  hist,  hark  to  the  cry  ! 
Fire  1  then  a  scream  tiien  a  scout 
Ard  the  policeman's  rattles  sprung  loud  in  the  air. 
And  th.e  mother  run  up  to  the  buck  secnnd  pair, 
And  shf  bawled  \o  the  tailor,  in  agony  wild, 
Oi:,  Bodkin!   dear  Bodkin,   look  a  ter  the  child, 
S'liC  flew  to  her  hus!):iiid,  she  stuck  by  his  side. 
For  he  was  nuts  on  her — now  wa:-'nt  she  wide  ! 
Fire!  fire    'twas  flaring  up  hk'h  and  down  low 
And  the  mngs  of  tlie  tailors  inrn'd  queer  at  the  si^l.t 
And  they  looked   like  O.  Sndth,  in   the  glim  of'"tlie* 

light, 
'Twas  viun  tor  the  ms  n  any  longer  to  stop, 
TiiC  dewouring  ilanies  had  fast  hold  of  ilie  shop,       ^m 
And  I  be  suif  ke  in  foiir  volumes  rose  hiuher  and  higher 
O.:,  isn't  it  awful  lo  be  doie  brown  by  fire  ? 

Our  Slicks  for  destlrucion  arc  booked  safe  I  see 

IvJistei  Braidwood,  you  nice  man,  our  hope  is  in  thee. 
Quite  down  on  their  luck,  but  still  plucky  and  brave 
iney  lowered  a  blanket 'twas  all  tl:fj  ct  uld  save         * 
First  slid  down  tie  mother,  and  took  it<.;uite  mild 
Aiid  then  very  kijuily  ti,.  y  threw  out  the  child    *  ' 
3t--st  followed  Bodkin-  then  came  his  crew     ' 
■^  itu  a  s'ef  veboard,  some  patterns,  and  cnltino-s  a  few 
Cold,  cold, they  felt,  so  they  went  o'er  the  uay 
JLb<!   calltd  for  a  qnarten  ineir  anguish  to  stay, 
Ttiej  prayed  for  the  firen.au  -when  turning  about 
Tncy  saw  lote  «f  boys,  and  Hiey  heard  a  great  shout 

Ch,  a  ingin — a  ingin,  cries  Bodkin,  with  q-Jee ' 

U  a  fact,  aid  tkey  strained  all  their  optics  to  se«   ' 
V«    twig  K»,  they  rwisf  us,  towards  us  they're    i  ure 
.  ^^«e  o   one   coftM^laii..-      '  v.k  f.oo,  weinsured 


\Vi  DDING  01 

BALLYPOREEN. 

ATTEND  yc  chaste  nine  to  a  true  Irish  bard. 
You're  old  maids  to  he  sure  but  I'll  send  you  a  ••'"di 

To  request  you'll  assist  a  poor  musical  elf 
With  a  son--^  ready  made  he  composed  it  himself". 
About  maids,  boys,  a  priest  and  a  wedding, 
A  supper  uood  drink  and  a  bedding, 

A  croud  you  i"nu!d  iscarce  thrust   your  head  ««  assembled  fdi 
Ballyporeen. 

Twas  a  fine  summer's  morn  about  six  in  the  day 

All  the  birds  fell  to  singing  the  asses  te  brav, 

\V'hen  Patrick  the  bridegroom  and  Onagh  the  bride, 

In  tlieir  best  bib  and  tucker  set  out  side  by  side. 

The  piper  went  first  in  the  rear  sir. 

The  maids  bluslied  the  bridegroom  did  swear  sir, 

O  how  the  spalpeens  did  stare  at  the  wedding  of  Bally  pore«n, 

They  were  soon  tack'd  together  and  home  did  return, 

To  make  merry  the  day  at  the  sign  of  the  churn. 

When  they  lay  d«wn  to  junk  it  a  frolick'-ome  troop, 

C5h  !  the  shades  of  old  Slumnon  ne'er  saw  such  a  group 

T!iert>  wns  tuvf  cutters  thrashers  and  tailors. 

There  was  pipers  harjier-  and  nailors. 

And  tanners  soldiers  and  sailors  all  assembled  at  Ballyporeen 

'r'.erc  v,;is  ^?^■;!^  M'Dcrmot  and  Shoughnes's' brat, 

'fhero  wfis  Tcrrcnce  and  Dascole  and  spatter'd  face  Pat  / 

Then>  w;m  ,M(d!y  M'Gorice  and  Bryan  O'Lyn, 

And  the  fat  red  hair'd  cook  wench  that  lives  at  the  inn, 

'i'here's  Shclah  and  Larry  the  genius, 

.And  Pats  uncle  old  Darby  Dennis, 

Black  Tcdd}  and  crooked  M'  Gennis  assembled  atBaHyporeen 

There  was  hjicon  and  greens  but  the  turkey   was  Bpoil'd 
Potatoes  dress'd  each  way  both  roasted  and  boil'd. 
Red  herrinirs  black  puddings  the  priest  got  the  snipe, 
Cnlecannoji  pies  dumplings  cod  cow  heel  and  tripe. 
And  tbev  set  till  they  could  eat  no  more  sir. 
The  whiskey  came  pouring  in  galore  sir. 
How  Teddy  M'Manners  did  roar  till  he  bothered  all   Ballg^ 
poreen. 

The  supper  being  over  the  songsters  did  roar  tar, 
Tim  sung  Humphrey  Delaney  Peg  Molly  Astore, 
When  a  motion  that  they  d  forsaKe, 
And  each  took  his  sweetheart  their  trotters  to  shake, 
Wli^  the  couples  and  pipes  went  dancing, 
Brogues  pumps  and  bears  feet  fell  a  prancing. 
Such  jigifi ng  such   reeling  and  dancing  was  ne'er  ^es 
Ballyporeen. 

But  the  maids  getting  tired  and  vt.en  getting  drunk, 
The  bridearcom  grew  sleepy  away  the  bride  slunk. 
Some  saddled  their  garrons  some  boxed  in  the  lane, 
And  a  true  Irish  favour  tiave  Patrick  to  M'  Shean. 
Some  knock'd  dow  n  in  the  nnre  lay  a  sprawling. 
The  maids  round  the  men  fell  a  squalling. 
And  some  up  the  diiciu*-;;  were  evawlingsuch  fua  was  i* 

lyporeen.  • 

>'ow  to  P-<^virk  the  briaeg.-oom  a>.d  Onagh  t  ^  bri^ 
LH  ''        ..i\)  of  Old  Ireland  be  sounded  with  prifte, 
.:  .1)1  that  were  there  great  or  small  gay  or  greei, 
C  rnnk  or  sober  all  jitrg'd  it  at  Ballyporeea, 
i  ad  wh«,n  cupid  shall  lend  you  kiii  wherry 
''  >  trip  over  the  conjugal  ferry 


I'M  OFF  TO 

CHARLESIOWNX 


RYLEaad  Co.,  Prinfers,  2  and  3,  Moomour?- 
court,  Seven  Dials, 


MY  Massaaud  ray  tuissus  havebrdl*  goiio  away 
Gone  ♦o  the  sulphur  springs  the  summer 
months  to  stay  ; 
\nd  while  they'/e  off  togedder  on  a  iit»le  kind  of 

spree, 
Ml  go  down  i  >  Charlestown  de  oretty  s^als  to  see 
Tai  off  to  Oiarlestown  early  in  tie  morning, 

I'm  off  to  Charlestowu  aad  little  time  to  stay 
SogivvJ  n7y  respects  to  all  the  pretty  yaller  gals, 
I  m  off  to  Charlestown  belore  de  break  ob  day 

My  Nell  s^e  wav'd  her  handkerchief  afore  she 

let  me  go, 
Floating  down  de  ribber  wid  ray  ole  banjo , 
I  stood  and  gaz'd  uprn  her  and  wip'd  away  a  tear 
De  last  words  she  said  to  me  was,  *♦  Fnre  you 

well,  my  dear.' 

I'm  off  to  Charle?towu,  &.c. 

It  began  to  rain  a  little,  de  night  was  berry  dark, 
De  niggers  dey  get  frighteu'd,  de  dogs  begin  to 

bark  ; 
De  coon  hescar'd  de  buzzard,  de  buzzard  scare*! 

de  coon, 
A.nd  dey  all  kept  up  a  running  till  to-morrow 

afternoon. 

I'm  off  to  Charlestown,  &c. 

Oharlcfitown  is  a  pretty  place,  de  gals  de)  dresa 

so  neat, 
Dey  am  so  slender  round  de  waist  and   pretty  in 

.    de  feet; 
I'd  rader  kiss  my  Nell  dan  all  de  gals  f  eber  see,     ' 
Kaui  her  breatJi  is  like  an  orange  blossom  hang- 
og  3a  dvj  tree. 


WHY  DID 

he  leave  him 


Rvle  "^n'!  Co.,  Printers,  2  and   ^.  Monmoiuh    *>'»n,  7   Dini': 


Vl/'H  Y  did  she  kavehini.lhey  grew  up  toget1>€r, 
^^    Near  to  the  old  church,  on  the  bright  village 

green, 
^ev<  r  to  part  in  amusifii  we.iihcr, 

Elle-^  and  Edward  in  childhcod  were  seen  ; 
She  had   not  wealth,  but  her  beauty  commanded 

Suitors,  alas  !  who  could  riches  st^cure, 
But  when  her  hand  as  his  bride  he  demanded, 
Why  did  she  leave  him  ? — becanse  he  waspoon 

He  was  once  mild,  young,  and  gay-hearted. 

First  in  the  frolic  of  maiket  or  fair, 
Where  are  the  cheeks  when  the  smile  hasdepaited 

Others  may  revel,  but  he  cannot  share  ; 
Blight  are  the  eyes  that  around  him  are  beaming. 

Cold  is  the  heart  that  strives  to  adhere, 
Save  when  at  night  i»n  the  past  he  is  thinking, 

Why  did  she  leave  him  ?— because  he  was  pooi, 


Now  she  rides  by  in  her  pride  and  her  carriage. 

But  where  is  the  bloom  that  once  shone  on 
her  cheek, 
Haughty  and  proud  are  thefriendsof  her  marriagt 

Now  ^he  must  feel  what  she  dar«  not  to  speak 
She  percha  ice  smiles  for  her  earliest  hours, 

Grieve««  for  the  soirows  that  he  uiusttudure, 
And  would   give  up  the   world    for  a   wreath  »W 
wild  flowers, 

Why  did  she  leave  bini  ^—because  h?  was  poo* 


Wllili  YOU 

LOVE    HIE 

THEN  AS  NOfV? 


Rvle  and   Co,,    Printersj,  2   and  3,   Monmo 
Court,  Seven  Dials. 


"^^OU  have  told  me  that  you  love  me 
*-       And  your  heart's  thoughts  see, 
to  speak, 
As  you  look  on  me  so  fondly, 

And  the  life-hlood  tints  your  cheek  - 
May  I  trust  that  these  warm  feelings, 

Never  wilbgrow  cold  and  strange, 
And  that  you'll  remain  uualterM, 

In  this  weary  world  of  change. 
When  the  shades  of  care  and  sorrow^ 

Dim  my  eyes  and  cloud  my  brow. 
And  my  spirit  sinks  within  me — 

Will  you  love  me  then  as  now  ? 

Though  Gur  youth  may  pass  unclouded, 

In  a  peaceful  happy  home, 
V^et  as  year  on  year  advances, 

Changes  ni  ui^^t  upon  us  come. 
JTor  the  sLoj)  w  II  loose  his  lightness, 

And  tlic  hair  he  chang'd  to  grey, 
Eyes  once  bright  give  up  their  lustre, 

Anr.  the  hopes  of  youth  decay, 
WheiJ  ail  these  have  pass'd  upor^fc, 

ATui  stern  age  has  touch'd  m^Pow, 
Will  the  change  find  you  unchanging, 
W'ili  \<>u  love  mo  then  us  now^ 


DOMESTIC  DISAPPOINTMENT 


^'^HE  voyage  was  past,  ana  England's  sh«i« 
i         Had  met  my  longing  view, 
I  left  the  ship  and  sought  the  cot, 
.That  held  my  lovely  Sue ; 
She  flew  to  meet  me,  in  each  eye. 
The  tear  of  joy  had  started. 
Thank  heaven  thou'rt  safe,  my  love,  she  CTy% 
We'll  never  more  be  parted. 

Two  lovely  boys  my  Susan  brought. 
They  hung  about  my  knees, 
Now  let  who  will  be  King,  I  said. 
Give  me  such  joys  as  these  ; 
Just  as  I  spoke  a  press-gang  came, 
Poor  girl !  she  shriek'd  and  started, 
Then  caught  my  hand,  and  cry'd,  dear  Jack 
I  fear  we  must  be  parted. 

INIy  children  wept,  in  vain  I  told 

How  long  I'd  been  away, 

They  said  my  King  requir'd  my  aid. 

They  dar'd  not  disobey  ; 

My  Susan  cri'd,  its  hard  my  love. 

But  be  thou  not  faint-hearted. 

The  powers  above  will  guanl  the  brave. 

We  sobb'd  adieu,  and  parted. 


Oh,   lil   Yrarm   you 


MY  mother  said  to  me  one  day. 
Why  Billy,  you  seem  lazy, 
I  i  you  don't  go  and  get  a  wife, 

You'll  drive  your  mother,  crazy  ; 
So  go  my  boy  to  London  town, 
I  know  no  one  will  harm  ye, 
Then  en  my  life  you'll  get  a  wife, 
And  she  will  nicely  warm  ye. 
"Where'er  you  go,  the  high  and  low, 

In  London  will  alarm  ye, 
Astheyrun  about  they  bawl  &  skomt, 
And  whistle,  now  I'll  warm  ye. 

1  met  a  lass  none  could  surpass. 

She  looked  at  me  so  funny, 
And  said  w'th  joy.  I  say  old  boy, 

Have  you  goi  any  money; 
Oh,  arn't  it  veiy  cold  said  she. 

Her  loving  woids  did  charm  me, 
And  if  you  will  come  home  with  me. 

My  love,  I'll  n.cely  warm  ye. 

b\e  tcok  me  up  a  dirty  court, 

The  like  I  saw  not  never, 
A  :d  then  I  had  a  fine  tuck,  out, 

Of  'lied  fat  tripe  and  liver. 
She  squeezed  me  tightly  by  the  throat, 

By  gum  she  did  alarm  me, 
Says  I,  old  gal,  what  are  you  at. 

Says  she,  I'm  going  to  warm  ye. 


^"e  threw  poor  I  upon  the  ground, 

Mj  eyes  rolled  in  their  sockets, 
And  then  her  pretty  finger  went 

Right  bang  into  my  pocket. 
My  watch  and  money  quickly  flew. 

Such  doings  did  alarm  me, 
She  all  the  wnile,  said  with  a  smile, 

Old  cock,  I  am  going  to  warm  ye. 


Then  I  met  with  a  lass  called  Jane, 

And  she  was  gay  and  frisky, 
Ske  took  me  into  a  dirty  lane, 

And  paid  for  gin  and  vwhiskey. 
©h  she  was  such  a  pretty  girl. 

So  sweet  s  she  did  charm  me. 
She  said  she  would,  and  so  she  did, 

Oh,  so  help  my,  never,  warm  me. 


I  saw  the  Queen  go'through  the  park, 

And  folks  was  in  a  bustle, 
I  saw  a  man  called  Palmerston, 

And  another  called  Jack  Russell, 
She  called  them  to  the  carriage  door, 

Her  features  did  so  chaim  me. 
When  she  said,  old  chap,  mind  what  you 
are  at, 

Or  I  will  nicely  warm  ye. 


Oh,  Lonofu  is  a  famous  place. 

There's  lots  of  Kits  and  Sallys, 
There's  lots  of  courts  for  fun  and  sp  of. 

And  1(  ts  of  lanes  and  alleos. 
And  if  lie  weather  shoo'id  be  cold 

There  s  plenty  things  to  charm  ye. 
And  blooming  girls  with  lings  and  curls. 

Who  very  soon  will  warm  yc.  ., 

I  now  will  roam  and  toddle  hoiu«, 

Since  I'm  completely  urdono, 
And  tell  the  folks  it  is  no  joke, 

To  walk  the  streets  of  Lonoon. 
I'll  say  to  mother  s»nd  old  dad, 

I  don't  wish  to  alarm  ye. 
But  if  you  don't  mind  what  youSr*  at, 

By  gum,  L'U  nicely  warm  ye. ' 

Said  old  John  Bull  to  China  Jcbo, 

We  hare  said,  I  don't  know  how  long, 
tVe'll  have  a  go  at  your  Canton, 

And  scatter  all  your  souchong. 
Bawl  Twee  Twang  Twee,  I«t  us  be 

And  do  not  n5w  alarm  me,J 
When  Seymour  stid,  arn't  you  sttm^d, 

John  Chinaman  I'll  waim  ye. 


Rial  and  Co.,  Printers,  2  and  3,  Monmouth 
Court,  Seyea  Dials 


u^^ 

^^:^^ 


THE 


iHarmer's  Grave. 

and  Co.,  Printers,  t  and  3,  Monmouth  Court, 
Seven  Dials,  where  an  immenBe  namber  of  songs  are 
always  ready. 

I  REMEMBER  the  night  was  stormy 
wet, 
A.nd  dismally  dashed  the  dark  wave. 
While  the  rain  and  the  sleet 
Dark  and  heavily  beat 
On  the  mariner's  new-dug  grave. 

I  remembei,  'twas  down  in  a  darksome  dalo, 
4Lnd  near  to  a  dreary  cave, 
Where,  the  wild  winds  wail 
Round  the  wanderer  pale. 
That  I  saw  the  mariner's  grave 

I  remember  how  slowly  the  bearers  trod. 
And  how  sad  was  the  look  they  gave. 

As  they  rested  their  load 

Near  its  last  abode, 
And  gazed  on  the  mariner's  grave 

^I  remember,  no  sound  did  the  silence  breal* 
As  the  corpse  to  the  earth  they  gave, 
Save  the  night-bird's  shriek, 
And  the  coffin's  creak. 
As  il  sunk  in  the  mariner's  grave. 

1  remember  a  tear  that  slowly  slid 

Down  the  cheek  of  a  mess-mate  brave 
It  fell  on  the  lid. 
And  soon  was  hid, 
For  clesed  was  the  mariner's  grave. 

Now  o'er  his  lone  bed  the  brier  creeps,^ 
And  the  wild-flowers  mournfully  wave 
And  the  willow  weeps, 
Au  d  the  moon-beam  sleeps 
«jm  the  mariner  s  silwit  graye. 


IN  HAPPY  MOM23MTS 

(Sonp  1,v  Mr.  H.  PhiMips,') 

Ii'v  hajjpy  moments,  day  bv  day. 
The  sands  of  life  may  pass. 
In  swift  but  tranquil  tide,  away 
From  Time's  unerring  glass  ; 
Yet  hopes  we  used  as  bright  to  deem 

Remembraiice  will  recall. 
Whose  pure  and  who've  unfading  beaw 
la  dearer  than  them  all. 

Though  anxious  eyes  upon  us  gaze, 

And  hearts  with  fondness  beat, 
Whose  smile  upon  each  feature  playsf 

With  truthfulness  replete ; 
Some  thoughts  none  others  can  replace, 

Remembrance  will  recall ; 
Which,  in  the  flight  of  years  we  tiracr  ^ 

Is  dearer  than  them  all. 

LITTLE  m^%. 

(a  comic  glee.) 

jUR  little  pigs  lie  on  very  good  stia^iv 
Straw  cor  aw,  aw  shir  dan  diddK 
daw| 
Our  little  pigs  lie  on  very  g<3od  straw, 
LillibuUerc,  my  dad  was  a  bonny  wee 
man. 

Our  little  pigs  eat  the  best  of  praties, 
Prates,  ates,  shin  shan  diddle  dates      - 
Our  little  pigs  eat  the  best  of  praties,'"^ 
LillibuUero,  my  dad  was  a  bonny  wee 
man 

Our  little  pigs  make  the  best  of  bacon 
Bacon  aeon,  shin  shan  diddle  dacon  ; 
Our  little  pigs  make  the  best  of  bacon 
LillibuUero,  my  dad  was  a  bonny  vv 
man. 

And  there's  an  end  to  our  little  »on^, 
Song  ong,  shin  dan  diddle  dong ; 
And  there's  an  and  to  our  little  son^ 
LillibuUero  my  dad  was  a  bonny  ^  eg 
man. 


Foor    Crazy 


JAN 


A.  Ryle  and  Co,,  Printers,   Minoutli    Court.t 
Blooinsbury. 

^■»  4iHBMBMiHi|HBMB»\iHi|HaHBMaMHM|iHa»  ^ti^ 

I 

WHY  fair  maid  in  every  feature. 
Are  such  signs  of  fear  express'd  ! 
Can  a  wandering  wretched  creature, 

\\' itli  sucli  horror  fill  thy  breast. 
Do  my  frenzied  looks  alarm  thee, 

Trust  me,  sweet,  thy  fears  are  vain 
Not  for  Kingdoms  would  I  harm  thi-c. 
Shun  not  then  poor  craey  Jane. 

Fondly  my  young  heart  believ'd  him 

Wiiicii  was  doom'd  to  love  but  oue 
Hesigh'd  be  vow'd  and  I  believ'd  him 

H e  was  false,  and  I'm  undone. 
From  that  hour  has  reason  never, 

Had  her  empire  o'er  my  brain, 
Henry  fled,  with  him  for  ever 

Fled  the  wits  of  Crazy  Jane. 

Dost  thou  weep  to  see  my  anguish  ? 

Mark  me  and  avoid  my  woe, 
Wl,en  men  flatter  figh  and  languifh, 

Think  them  false,  1  found  them  so 
For  1  loved  him  fo  fincerely, 

None  could  ever  love  again, 
But  the  youth  1  lov'd  so  dearly, 

Stole  tne  wits  of  crazy  Jane 

Novr  forlorn  and  broken  hearted, 

And  with  frenzied  thoughts  beset. 
On  th:it  spot  where  last  we  parted, 

On  the  spot  where  first  we  met 
Still  I  sing  my  love  lorn  ditty, 

Still  I  slowly  pace  the  plain. 
While  each  passer  by  in  pity, 

Cries  God  help  thee  Craxy  Jase. 


THE 


Exile  of  Erin. 


THKRE  came  to  the  beach  a  poor  Exile  t' 
Krin, 
Tlie  dew  on  his  robe  it  was  heavy  and  chill 
For  hiscountryhe  sijih'd  when  at  twylisiht  repea 
,  To  wander  alone  by  the  wind  beaten  hill(ing 
But  the  day  thar  attrcted  his  eyes  sad  devotion, 
For  it  rose  on  his  own  native  Isle  of  theooean,^ 

-YAl2§S-QIi.cejjl_tbe .dow  of  ju>uthful  emotion, 

He  sung  the  bold  anthem  of  Erin  go  bragh.' 

Ohfj^d  is  my,country,  faid  the  heart  broben 
*'^  (Granger, 

The  wild  deer  and  wolf  to  a  covert  can  Hee' 
But  1  have  no  refuge  from  famine  and  dance, 

A  home  and  a  country  remain  not  formege, 
O  never  again  in  the  green  funny  bowers, 

Where  my  forefathers  liv'd    fhall  1  fpend 
fweet  hours. 
Or  cover  my  harp  with  the  wild  woven  flower* 

And  (Irike  the  fweet  numbers  of  Erin  go  br^gq 

0h  !  Erin,  my  country,  though  fad  &  forsaken 

In  dreams  1  re-vilit  thy  fea-beaten  rtiores, 
But,  alas  !  in  a  far  foreign  land  1  awaken, 

And  figh  for  a  friend  who  can  meet  me  no  more 
And  thou,  cruel  fate,  wilt  thou  never  replace  me 

In  a  mansion  of  peace,  where   no   peril  can 
chase  me. 
Ah  !  never  again  shall  my  brothers  embrace^m* 

They  died  to  defend  her  they  lived  to  adore, 

Where  is  my  cabin  so  fast  by  the  wild  wood. 

Sisters  and  sire  did  weep  for  it's  fall. 
Where  rs  the  mother  that  look'd  on  ray  children 
And  vs^here  is  my  bosom  friend  dearer  then  all 
Oh',  my  sad  soul,  abandon'd  by  pleasure, 
why  did  itdoat  on  a  fast  fading  treasure. 
Tears  like  the  rain  may  fall  without  measur«l 
But  rapture  and  beauty  it  cannot  recaU. 

Bat  yet  all  this  fond  recollection  suppressing, 

One  dying  wish  my  bosoir  shall  draw, 
F.ria,  an  Exile  bequeaths  thee  his  blessing. 

Land  of  my  forefathers,  Erin  go  bragh. 
Buried  and  cold  when  my  heart  stills  its  moHoit 
Green  be  thy  fields  sweetest  Isle  of  the  oceaa, 
And  the  harp  striking  bard  sing  aloud  with  de 

.  votion, 
Blrin  mavourneea  sweet  Erin  go  bragh. 


I 


/3 


THE 


Smii^rant's 

FAREWELL. 


Ryk  and  Co.,  Printers,  2  &  3,  Mownowtb  Court, 

Bioumsbury. 


THE  ihamrock  rose  and  I  overheard  conversing, 
While  Britannia  mournfully  stood  and  for  awhile, 
Ou  the  subject  of  Emigration  together  they  were  dis- 
coursing^, 
And  the  dark  clouds  of  pover  y  that  seto'eT  Briton'sisle 
Sure  brothers  dear,  the  shamrock  cried,  the  suflenngs  i 

have  undergone, 
To  gain  an  honest  livelihod  has  caused  me  to  deplore,  ^ 
That  my  mind  is  wrought  to  such  a  state,  i  am  resolved 

to  emigrate. 
I  And  seek  the  comforts  here  denied,  upon  Australias  shore 

My  now  anhapi>y  country  once  flourished  with  prosperty 
It's  hardy  sons  arose  at  morn  lo  prepare  for  daily  toil, 
With  hearts  as  light  and  minds  as  bright  as  the  shannon 

or  the  lifley, 
And  at  niifht  to  their  humble  cabins  was  welcomed  with 

a  smile ; 
But  the  chilling  hand  of  famine   has  our  fertile   fields 

laid  prostrate, 
Our  iron  hearted  landlords  has  turned  us  out  of  doors. 
And  the  neglect  of  our  absentees,  has  reduced  our  homes 

to  fcuch  a  state. 
That  I  will  hid  atlieu  to  Old  Ireland  to  seek  Australia's 

shore. 

Then  up  spoke  a  poor  artizan,  who  England's  rose  did 

represent, 
"Whose  sunken  eyes  and  visage    pale   bespoke  a  heart 

o'ercharged  with  grief  and  care  ;  (content. 

When  I  was  for  ray  labour  paid,  i  gaily  work'd  in  sweet 
But  now  like  you  and  thotisands  more  I   am  driven  to 

despair, 
Oartyranttask-niaslers  grind  us   down,  till  our  trade 

we  cannot  live, 
Such  arbiiary  systems  no  longer  5'U  endure, 
But  seek  employment  where  for  a  fair  day's  work  a  fair 

day's  wages  we'll  receive, 


^ 


And  strive  lo  live  in  happiness  on  fair  Anstralia's  shore. 

IS  tliert  a  man  throughout  this   land^ould  behold   the 

partner  of  his  heart,        • 
Or  hear  his  child  en  cry  for  bread  when  no  relief  was  near 
Who  for  one  moment  could  heve  a  sigh,  or  grieve  from 

England  to  part. 
To  seek  that  succour  in  a  foreign  land   that   is  denied 

him  here ; 
Methjnks  I  hear  you  say  not  one  to  slay  at  home  could 

have  a  wish, 
Or  else  his   boasted   sirenglh  of  love  indeed   must  be 

mt  St  poor. 
To  cure  him  of  his  churlish  mind,    let  4iim  with  savage 

beasts  exist. 
Nor  alow  him  lo  contaminate  fair  Australia's  shore, 

E'lgiand  possesses  far  more  wealth  to  what  it  did  in  by- 
gone days, 

And  yet  the  poor  man  had  iu  those  days  of  comforts 
had  his  share. 

But  initead  of  bft)ein£r  scattered  ruund,  they  sweep  it 
in  large  heaps. 

Audits  keepers  with  a  misers  eye  wa;ch  it  with  a 
jealous  care  ; 

Sujch  selfish  acts  brings  to  light  that  rigtit  is  overcome 
by  might.  (core, 

But  time  will  prove  their  golden  fruits  are  rotten  at  the 

So  with  my  brothers  lia<id  iu  haud  I'll  quit  this  pride- 
tainted  Babylon, 

And  seek  ahmoe  on  that  fair  land  call'd  Australia's  shore 

Britannia  tearfully  replied,  my  sons,  i  grieve  with  yon 

to  part, 
Gnd  speed  your  passage  out  across  the  briny  main, 
In  bright  hopes  offutnre  endeavour  to  forget  the  past. 
May  my  blessings  rest  upon  your  headsaml  you  to  fame; 
The  vessel  spread  her  swelling   sails  the  emigrants    on 

board  they   flew, 
I  heard  them  raise  their  voices  high  amid  the  billows  roar 
They  eried  farewell  to  England  to  thee  one  lasting  long 

abieu. 
And  the  gallant  barque  sped  on  her  way  to   Australia's 

shore. 


Urink  to  me  only 

With  thine  Eyes 


Drink  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes. 

And  I  will  pledge  with  mine. 
Or  leave  a  kiss  but  in  the  cup. 

And  I'll  not  look  for  wine  ; 
The  thirst  that  from  my  soul  doth  rise. 

Doth  ask  a  drink  divine  ; 
But  might  I  of  Jove's  nectar  sip, 

1  would  not  change  for  thiae. 

I  sent  thee  late  a  rosy  wreath. 

Not  so  much  honouring  thee, 
Ab  giving  it  a  hope  that  there, 

It  would  not  wither'd  be  ; 
But  thou  thereon  didst  only  breattie. 

And  sent  it  back  to  me  ; 
€ince  when  it  grows  and  smells,!  Bwew, 

Not  of  itself,  but  thee. 


Fanny  Frail, 

O, white  folks,  1  come  dovui  b<  re, 

I'll  sing  to  3'ou  a  lay  ; 
For  I  must  lebc  dis  country, 

I'm  going  [\ir  away, 
A  bark  is  bound  for  England, 

Dc  ocean  for  lo  sail, 
An'in  it  I  will  bid  farewt-U 

To  my  sweet  Fanny  Frail. 

Farewell,  farewell, 
Farewell,  sweet  Fanny  Frail 
Oh,  do  take  care 
Ob,  yourself  my  dear, 
I*m  gonig  by  de  rail. 

Oil,  Fanny,  when  I  courted  you, 

You  did  not  care  for  me, 
You  put  Squash  in  de  cupboifd, 

When  I  did  come  to  tea  ; 
An,  when  1  see  de  nigger's  eye, 

I  did  de  cupboard  nail. 
An'  took  my  tea  in  comfort 

Wid  my  sweet  Fannv  Frail. 

Farewell,  &c. 

Oh,  well  do  I  remember, 

Our  walking  on  de  walls. 
We  were  de  niggers  envy. 

An'  allde  white  folks  talk. 
But  sweet  gal,  I  must  lebe  you, 

Don't  let  your  spirits  fail. 
For  I  am  coming  back  again 

To  marry  Fanny  Frail. 

Farewell,  &C. 
An'  now  dat  i  m  ih  ]&  .gland, 

I  like  de  white  folks  well; 
Oh   when  I  see  my  Fanny 

yVhat  tales  I  hab  to  tell, 
4n'  friends  I  lebe  b«ftind  m^ 

I  hope  will  nothnig  ail, 
in'  hoj)e  one  will  be  constant, 

41thiough  she's  Fanny  Fmii. 


SaUyistheOirl 

F  O  B    ]»1  E  , 

l^ylt;  &  Co.,   Pfinrers,  1  &  '3,Momiioiith 
Court,  Bloonisbuiy. 

Last  year  I  w&s  twenty, 

01  e  massa  aet  me  free  ; 
And  as  Fr«  oioney  plenty 

iu*I   going  to  hab  a  spree! 

CHORUS. 

For  I  have  got  such  a  weaving  way 
To  spend  my  money  free  ; 

riefe*s  good  liquor  come  and  diink 
Sally  is  the  girl  for  me. 

Her  eye«  they  are  so  bright. 
Her  lips  they  are  so  red, 

And  like  a  shoe  brush  half  wQiti  Qut 
Is  de  wool  upon  her  head 

For  I've  got,  &c 

Uev  waiste  is  so  slender, 

Her  ancle  is  so  small  ; 
And^  if  it  was  not  for  her  heel, 

She'd  have  no  foot  at  all. 

For  I've  got  &c. 

If  all  de  gals  in  dis  here  place. 

Was  melted  into  one  ; 
Fdhave  them  all  if  I   thauhgt  fit, 

Qr^  else  I'd  let  them  run  ! 

For  IVe  got,  &^ 

Massa  gih  me  meat, 

IMisses  gib  me  bread, 
But  I  wish  they  yive  me  sally. 
Den  we'd  go  and  wed. 

For  I've  gp      ' 

To  see  her  on  a  simday, 

Astro'  de  street  she  walk, 
YomM  tink  it  was  Victoria, 
^  Just  landed  in  New  York, 

For  rv€  trot,  ke 


The  Bride's 

FAREWELL. 

FAREWELL,  mother  !    tears  are 
streaming 
Down  thy  pale  and  tender  cheek  : 
I,  in  g"ems  and  roses  gleaming, 

Scarce  this  sad  farewell  may  speak. 
Farewell,  mother  !  now  I  leave  thee  : 
Hopes  and  fears  my  bosom  swell : 
One  to  trust  who  may  deceive  me  : 
Farewell,  mother,  fare  thee  well ! 

Farewell,  father  !  thou  art  smiling  ; 

Yet  there's  sorrow  on  thy  brow, 
Winning"  me  from  that  beguiling 

Tenderness  to  which  I  eo. 
Farewell,  father!  thou  didst  bless  me. 

Ere  my  liys  thy  name  could  tell  : 
He  may  wound  who  should  caress  me  : 

Father,  guar  Man,  fare  thee  well ! 

Farewell,  sister  !  thou  art  twining 

Round  me  in  affection  deep  ; 
Wishing  joy,  but  ne'er  divining 

Why  a  blessed  bride  should  weep. 
Farewell,  brave  and  gentle  brother  ; 

Thou  more  dear  than  words  may  tell : 
Father,  mother,  sister,  brother, 

Al  beloved  ones,  fare  you  well. 

&  Co.,  Printers.  2  &  3,  Monmouth  Court, 
7  Bials,  and  35,  Hanover  Street,  Portsea, 
where  upwards  of  400O  different  sorts  of 
ballads  are  continually  on  sale,  togeiher  with 
40  new  penny  song  books. 


i 


i 


A 


\ 


^%^^i 


«^<^^a^^*^3^^^3^^»')^  # 


I  A»  I  view  tliose  scenes 

ISO  CHARMIIVO.  I 

A  S  I  view  those  scenes  so  charniing,  W 

•^     With  fond  remembrance  my  heart  is        ^ 
\Tar;rJng,  - 

Of  days  long  vanished  ; 
Oh  !   my  breast  is  filled  with  pain^ 
Finding  objects  that  still  remam, 
N\  hile  those  days  come  not  again. 

Maid,  those  bright  eyes,  my  heart  impressing. 
Fill  my  heart  with  thoughts  distressing. 
By  recalling  an  earthly  blessing, 

Lung  since  dead  and  passed  away,  passed 
awny  : 
She  was  like  thee,  ere  death,  oppressing, 

Sunk  her  beauty  to  decay. 


HUZZA! 

For  England  Ho!! 

FREIGHT,  brothers,  freight,  on  board 
repair, 
'  The  sea  runs  smooth,  the  wind  sets  fair, 

The  wind  sets  fair, 
The  canvass  spread,  and  away  we  g-o, 
And  then  huzza  for  Eugfland,  bo  ! 
Hwzza,  huzza,  huzza,  for  Eng-lund,  ho  t 
Stay,  pray  thee,  stay,  it  is  almost  night, 
It  is  best  to  sail  at  morning-'s  light, 
At  day-break  they  shall  s^tirw  a  sail,  T  hi 

Were  it  not  best  to  meet  that  gale  ?  ^  N 

Huzza  for  England,  &c. 
Avast,  avast,  pretty  maid,  I  say, 
Blow  high,  blow  low,  there  is  no  delay  : 
To  spite  that  tear  in  your  ^lack  eye, 
Your  sweethearts  now  must  cry  good  bye 
Your  sweethearts,  &c.' 
Blow  high,  blow  low,  still  we  mnst  go, 
Three  cheers,  three  cheers,  the  canvass,  &c. 
Oh  saiior,  sailor,  why  thus  speed  ? 
By  chance  in  youder  clouds  I  read  :  ^ 

Ihe  canvass  spread  at  morning's  glow,         wk 
And  thnhuzzah  for  Eugland,  ho'!         '         ^ 

)C0CQO 


THE 


TBYSTIJrG 

TREE. 


and  Co.,  Printers,  2  &  3,  Monmouth 
Court,  Seven  Dials,  where  upwards  oi  6000 
diffejen  Forts  of  ballads  are  coi.nnually  on  sdlf', 
logethe  wiili  40  new  penny,  and  60  new  halt- 
penny  snng  books 


IN  the  days  of  old,  wlien  the  forest  and  glade. 
To  the  hunter's  hounds  were  free  ; 
The  merry  men  rode  through  brake  and  glen. 

To  meet  at  the  trysting  tiee. 
And  then  was  seen,  in  Lincoln  green, 

Full  many  a  yeoman  bold, 
With  a  good  yew  bow,  for  buck  or  doc, 

And  a  steed  of  Stalworth  mould, 
And  loud  and  lasting  was  their  glee, 
As  they  drank  to  the  brave  old  trjsting  lii.,^^ 

At  early  dawn  on  merry  May  day. 

The  welkin  would  ring  with  glee  ; 
And  the  villagers  carried  the  queen  of  May, 

To  be  crowned  at  the  trysting  tree ; 
Bright  eyes  would  glance,  in  tne  joyous  dance, 

And  the  merry  pipe  would  sound. 
While  the  old  m'an's  tale,  and  the  nut-brown  ale, 

Would  add  to  the  mirth  around ; 
And  the  leaves  would  shake  on  the  brave  old  tree. 
In  joy  at  their  rustic  revelry. 

Young  lovers  have  met  'neath  his  giant  shade 

When  the  curfew  closed  the  day  ; 
And  there  has  many  a  maiden  prayed 

For  her  loved  one  far  away  : 
Kings  have  died  in  their  regal  pride, 

And  storms  have  swept  the  land ; 
But  the  trysting  tree,  though  old  he  be 

Does  still  maintain  his  stand; 
And  may  he  live  another  race  lo  aef.  ^ 
the bravfl^tfee iwe old tijiK'irg  xj  , 


The  Rocks  of  Scilj} 


COME  all  you  brisk  young  sailors  bold, 

That  plough  the  raging  main. 
Come  listen  to  my  tragedy, 

And  I'll  relate  the  same. 
Tis  prest  I  was  from  my  true  love, 

She  is  the  girl  I  do  adore. 
And  sent  I  was  to  the  raging  sea, 

Where  foaming  billows  roar. 

To  the  East  Indies  we  were  bound, 

Our  gallant  ship  to  steer, 
And  all  the  way  that  we  sailed  out, 

I  thought  of  my  Polly  dear. 

Before  a  storm  did  rise, 
The  raging  seas  ran  mountains  big*, 

And  so  dismal  was  the  sky. 

Sometimes  alone  with  grief  I  moaa 

While  others  are  sporting  on. 
Had  I  but  my  Polly  here, 

I  ne'er  would  make  my  moan. 
Sometimes  on  deck,  sometimes  aloft 

And  oftentimes  below. 
The  thought  of  Polly  runs  in  my  head 

Tho*  the  stormy  winds  do  klow. 

Our  captain  being  a  valiant  Man, 

Upon  the  deck  doth  stand, 
A  full  reward  of  fifty  pounds 

To  the  first  that  see  land. 
Our  boatswain  up  aloft  did  go, 

On  the  main  top  so  high, 
He  looks  all  around  o»  every  side. 

Neither  light  nor  laad  espy'd. 

He  being  ftremast  of  the  ship, 

A  light  he  chanced  to  spy, 
Bear  off  my  lads  keforcthe  wkni. 

Some  harbour  we  are  nigk. 
Bear  off  my  lads  before  the  wkid, 

The  Scilly  rocks  that  clear, 
On  the  ocean  wide  we  must  abide, 

Till  day-light  doth  appear. 

The  very  first  time  o«r  gallant  ship  simek, 

So  loud  the  captain  cried. 
The  Lord  have  mercy  on  us  all, 

We  in  the  deep  shall  die. 
Out  of  •ighty  seamen  bold, 

'Twas  four  got  on  shore. 
Our  gallant  ship  to  pieces  went. 

And  never  was  seen  more. 

O  when  this  news  to  Plymouth  cam* 

Our  gallant  ship  was  lost, 
Caused  many  a  fine  young  sailor  bold. 

Then  to  lament  his  case. 
Ti»  Polly  love  you  must  lament. 

For  the  loss  of  your  sweethemi 
TIb  >Ke  ragintj;  seal,  the  stormy ' 

Ctwnd  yon  aad  »•  to  part. 


Marseilleis   Hymn^ 


iI^X  W^  jLWi 


■x^ 


Ryle  &  Co.,  Printers,  Monmouth  ConcU 
Bloomsbiirj. 

sons  of  France,  awake  to  glorj  ! 
Hark,  hark!  what  myriada  bid  you  rise, 
our  children,  wives,  and  Grandsires  hoary^ 
Behold  their  tears,  and  hear  their  cries. 
/lialiliHteful  tyrants,  mischief  breading, 
With  hireling  hosts,  a  ruffian  band, 
Affrigbt  and  desolate  tlie  land, 
While  peace  and  liberty  lie  bleeding? 
To  arms,  to  arms,  ye  brave, 

Th'  avenginar  sword  unsheath  ; 
March  on,  march  on,  all  hearts  resolvecK 
On  liberty  or  death  ! 

Now,  now  the  danj^erons  storm  is  rollintr. 

Which  treacherous  kings,  confederate  raise  ; 
The  dogs  of  war.  let  loose,  are  howling 

And  lo  !  our  fields  and  cities  blaze. 
And  siiail  we  basely  view  the  ruin 

While  lawless  force,  with  guilty  stride, 

Spreads  desolution  far  and  wide, 
With  ciitues  and  blood  his  hands  imbruini^  ? 

To  arms,  to  arms,  &c. 

With  luxury  and  pride  surrounded, 
The  vile  insatiate  despots  dare, 

'*'heir  thirst  of  power  and  gold  unbounded. 
To  meet  and  vend  the  liglit  and  air; 
•ke  beasts  of  burden  would  they  load  us" 
Like  gods,  would  bid  their  slaves  adore. 
But  man  is  man,  and  who  is  more  ? 

>»hen  shall  they  longer  lash  and  goad  us? 
i  To  arms,  to  arms,  && 

t)  Liberty,  can  man  resign  thee, 

Once  having  felt  thy  gen'rous  flame  ? 
Can  duugeons,  bolts,  and  bars  confine  ibeo^ 

Or  whips  thy  noble  spirit  tame  ? 
Too  long  the  world  has  wept,  bewailing^ 
That  falsehood's  dagger  tyrants  wield; 
But  freedom  is  our  sword  and  shield, 
•  Taen  all  their  arts  are  Hiavailirg, 

To  aru)*,  to  armt  Vc< 


Katty  Avbiirneen. 

^^^^^-^^^^^^^^^-^^^^  ^ 

R>^le  &  Co.,  Printers  2  &  3,  Monmouth  Court, 
Bloornsbury. 

'fTlWAS  a  cold  winter  night,  and  the  tenrpest 

JL  was  snarling, 

The  snow  like  a  sheet  covered  cabin  and  sty; 
When  Barney  flew  over  the  hills  lo  his  darlin', 

And  tapp'd  at  the  window  where  Kalty  did  lie, 
Arrah,  jewel,  says  he  are  you  sleeping  or  wakin' » 

It's  a  cold  bitter  night,  and  my  coat  it  is  thin  , 
The  storm  is  a  brewin',  the  frost  is  a  bakin', 
;   O,  Katty  Avourneen,  ycu  must  let  me  in. 

Ah,  then  Barney,    says  Kate,    and  she  spok 
through  the  window, 
How  could  you  be  takin'  us  out  of  our  bed. 
To  come  at  this  time  it's  a  shame  and  a  sin  too. 
It's  whiskey,  not  love,  has  got  into  your  head. 
Il'your  heart  it  was  true,  of  my  fame  you'd  be 
tender; 
Consider  the  time  and  there^s  nobody  in, 
What  has  a  poor  girl  but  her  name  to  defend 
her, 
No,  Barney  Avourneen  I  won't  let  you  in. 

A-cush  la,  says  he  it's  my  eye  it  is  a  fountain. 
That  weeps  for  rhe  wrongs,  I  may  lie  at  your 
door ; 
Your  name  is  more  white  than  the  snow  on  tnr 
mountain, 
And  Barney  would  die  to  preserve  it  as  purr, 
I'll  go  to  my  home  though  the  wintei  vrinds  tacc 
me, 
I'll  whistle  them  off,  for  I'm  happy  withit , 
And  the   words  of  my  Katty  will  couii^m  ano 
bless  me 
Ne  Barney  Avonrne  ■,  I  wouM  U.'  you  in 


POLLY 

Won't  you  try  meO 

{Sung  by  Mrs.  Florence,  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre. 
Ryle  and  Co.,. Printers,  Monmouth-court,  SeAen  Dials. 


"piO  WIN  in  Sky  town  lived  a  maid, 
-■^   Singsong  Polly  won'tyoii  trymeohl 
Churning  butter  was  her  trade. 

Sing  S!  ng  Polly  won't  you  try  me  ohl 
She  loved  a  feller  whose  name  was  Will, 

Sing  song  Polly  won't'yon  try  me  oh? 
His  dad  he  used  to  own  the  mill. 

Sing  song  Polly  won't  you  try  me  oh  ? 

Kemo,  kimo,  where  oh, there,  my  high  my 
low, 

Then  in  came  Sally  singing, 
Sometimes  medley  winkumlingtam  nip  cat 

Sing  song  Polly  won't  you  try  me  oh? 

She  wanted  Will  for  better  or  worse, 

Sing  song  Polly  won't  you  try  me  oh  I 
blie'dhavemarried,butdadwouldn'tlether 

Sing  sorjg  Polly  won't  you  try  me  oh  ? 
And  80  she  went  and  got  a  knife, 

Sing  song  Polly  won't  you  try  me  oh  ? 
She  Droke  her  heart  and  lost  her  life. 

Sing  song  Polly  won't  you  try  me  oh? 

Then  Josh  he  felt  his  dander  ri&in, 

Sing  song  Pol!y  won't  you  try  me  oh  f 
So  he  went  and  swallowed  pison. 

Sing  song  Polly  won't  you  try  me  oh  ? 
The  village  folks  laughed  in  their  sleeve 

sing  song  Polly  won't  you  try  me  oh  f 
for  Jordan's  a  hard  road  to  Iravellbeheve, 

Sing  song  Polly  won't }  ou  try  me  oh  f 


CLEMENTINA 


Ryal  &  Co.,  Printers,  2,<St  a,  Monmouth  Court,  Seven 
Oials,  and  35.  Hanover  Street,  P<.rtsea;  where  upwaids 
4000  differar.t  s,rts  of  Ballads  are  continually  on  sale, 
togethei  V  itw  50  a.iw  penny  song  books. 


TALK  aboHt  modest  girls,  and  Tve  seen  a  few 
There's  none  beats  the  one  I'm  sticking  up'too 
Her  singular  ways  would  make  some  chaps  ill  '       ' 
But  with  all  h.  r  faults  »^rad  i  I  love  her  still 
Such  a  delicate  duck  was  Cleraenfina  Clemmins, 
Such  a  werry  modest  g^l  you  never  did  see 

Osce  the  Lowther  Arcade  we  took  a  stroll   down 
To  buy  for  our  babies,  'gainst  they  come  to  town,' 
When  slie  tainted  away  right  under  my  nose 
'Cos  she  saw  a  Dutch  doll  without  any  clothes; 

Sach  a  delicate,  ^ 

Once  taking  a  stroll  with  my  modest  dear. 
At  length  a  tatei-field  we  came  near — 
She  wouldn't  walk  through  to  my  great  surprise, 
'Cos  she  said  the  taters  .'»ad  all  got  eyes, 

Such  a  delicate,  ttr 
She  went  out  shopping  the  other  night, 
But  rushed  from  the  drapers  with  great  atTright, 
Cos  the  innocent  shopman  with  looks  quite  winiiing. 
Happened  to  show  ker  some  undressed  lin«» 

Such  a  delif&te,  Ac. 

With  herself  and  r:other  I  dined  one  day, 
But  wben  she  was  asked  to  clear  away, 
She  wouldn't  move  the  cloth — oh,  geraini  pegs 
Cos  she  said  as  how  the  table  had  le-s.  ' 

^  butih  a  delicate,  Ac 

She  wanted  to  wear  as  you  may  suppose 

Spectacles  to  hide  hernaked  nose, 

In  windy  weather  she  won't  stir  a  peg, 

For  the  wind's  so  rude  he  wants  lo  see  her  leg; 

Such  a  deliinj»'<,« 

When  stie  goes  lo  ttie  buicner  '  you  may  think  I  jest, 
Bat  she  never  will  ask  tor  a  rump  or  a  breast 
As  for  buying  rump  steaks,  she  has  to  much  shame, 
And  she  calls  a  cockatoo  out  of  his  name. 

Such  a  delicate, 4 

We've  been  going  to  be  married,  so  sb^;  affljBn 
This  eight  tr  r.ire  years,  bui  wt  can't  come  lo  t«r«fi 
She  fcajs  si  e  tlon't  caie  how  scon  «e  aje  wt;ti  ' 

But  \.~  B'ls'    ciL  fricip  iu  bepeiatf  beds, 

8«cb  a  d»ttcftte  <}■• 


ANSTwrsa  TO 
VteA,  Wbite,  ^  Blae 

■  ■  •  -"     „  - 

^f[e  (Ss  Co.,  Printers,  Mjiimouth  Conrt,  Seven 

Diak. 


I  Must  bid  adieu  to  the  ocean, 
The  anchor  of  life  it  is  cast, 
ly^J  life's  been  a  scene  of  commotion, 

1  must  die  for  my  eountiy  at  last 
Aipft  her  proud  colours  are  flying, 

Her  opponents  are  sunk  in  dismay ! 
Push  the  grog  round,  tho'  I  am  dying-. 
And  we'll  drink  toOldEn^land.huzza 

Poor  Tom  as  he  weaker  was  growhig. 

And  his  cable  of  life  nearly  run, 
While  the  blood  from  his  wounds  wa« 
flowing, 

He  cried  bear  me  aloft  to  my  sfun. 
For  the  sound  was  the  sound  of  re-action 

And  we*ll  fight  until  death  calls  away 
Should  he  call  in  the  midst  of  the  action 

Well  die  for  Old  England,  huzza! 


1,  still,  did  he  rave       the  battle. 
But  death  on  ea*^*     feature  sat  pale  ; 
Harkjhe  ciies,ho     the  cannons  do  rattle. 
Up  messmates,  we'll  conciuer  again  : 
le  started  from  where  he  was  laying, 
And  ^o  suddenly  he  fainted  away. 
'  wli^Uideath  closed  his  eyes  he  was 
"     saying, 
Aclieu  to  Old  England,  k«JU3 ! 


THE   WIDOWS 
I^ast  Prayer. 

^#tt«iper  to  'Mother  ia  the  Butife  o'er,' 


liYLEmd  Co.,  Printers,  2  &  3,  Moaroouth 
Court,  Seven  Dials,  London. 


O 


MOTHER  dear,  n«w  leaTe  off  crying. 
Your  onlj  child  is  by  yni  side, 
On  you  all  my  hope  relying, 

Ever  since  my  father  died ; 
Vy  child,  my  thoughts  are  trtr  on  you 

My  nightly  prayer  for  you  is  given, 
My  health,  my  dear,  is  fast  decaying, 
My  loul  must  take  its  flight  to  Heaven 

Gb<me,  my  child,  come  nearer  to  me, 

Do  not  fret,  do  not  despair, 
A  parting-  kiss  before  I  leave  you, 

I'm  going  to  ireet  your  father  there. 
U  u  our  lot,  we  must  not  murmur, 

It  la  our  great  Creator's  will, 
When  1  depart  this  world  of  sorrow, 

He'll  be  a  father  to  you  still. 

file  dasp'd  her  child  close  to  her  boscm, 

While  her  eyes  were  closed  in  death, 
God  bless  my  boy,  she  taintly  murmered. 

It  was  her  last  expiring  breath  ; 
Alone  and  helpless  stood  the  orphan, 

W'th  tearfal  eye  and  aspect  wild, 
()  God  look  down,  in  all  thy  rnercy, 

And  be  a  father  to  this  child. 

1  he  funeral  cortege  onward  rolling. 

There  stood  one — a  soldier  brave— 
Kcported  dead,  bat  only  missitf,. 

He  stood  beside  the  new  made  gra  e 
lears  rolled  down  his  manly  cheeks. 

With  weary  look  and  features  mild, 
Weep  not,  my  boy,  Tm  safe  retwi«i'^ 

f  •  be  a  father  to  mj  child. 


Cild    ItOvSin,  the  Beau 


and  Co.,  Printrrs,  2  anfl  3,  Morimoiiih  Conii, 
Seven  Dial*. 

[HAVE  travelled   this  wide  world 
over, 
And  now  to  another  Til  <;•€ 
I  know  that  ^iood  quarters  ar    >  ailing 
To  welcome  old  Rosin,  the  .vhu. 
To  weleoine  old  Rosin,  the  btau, 
To  welcome  old  Rosin,  the  beau, 
1  know  that  good  quarters  are  waiting 
To  welcome  dd  Rosin,  the  beau. 

When   I'm  dead  and  laid  out  on  the 
counter, 
A  voice  you  will  hear  from  below, 
Skis;ing  out  Whiskey  and  water, 
^""o  drink  to  old  Kosin,  the  beau. 
To  drink,  &c. 
And  when  I  am  dead,  I  reckon 

The  ladies  will  all  want  to  know, 
Just  lift  the  lid  off  the  coffin, 
And  look  at  old  Rosin,  the  beau. 

And  look,  &c. 

)U  must  get  some  dozen  good  fellows, 
And  stand  them  all  round  in  a  row, 
And  drink  out  of  half-gallon  bottles, 
To  the  nan»e  of  old  Rosin,  the  beau. 
To  the  name,  &o. 

Get  four  or  five  jovial  young  fellows, 
And  let  them  all  staggering  go, 

And  dig  a  deep  hole  in  the  meadow, 
And  in  it  toss  Rosin,  the  beau. 

And  in  it,  &c. 

Then  get  you  a  couple  of  tombstones, 
Place  one  at  my  head  and  my  top  •- 

And  do  not  fail  to  scratch  on  it 
The  name  of  old  Rosin,  the  beau. 
The  name,  &c. 

I  feel  the  grim  tyrant  approaching. 

That  cruel,  implacable  foe, 
Who  spares  neither  age  nor  condition, 

Nor  even  old  Rosin,  the  beau. 

Nor  even,  Sec, 


TOM  HALLIx\Hn 

]^0W  the  rage  of  battle's  emlcd. 

•*-^  And  the  Frendi  for  mercy  c;iil 

Death  no  more  in  smoke  or  thir;  s 

Rode  uponllio  venj^roful  bull. 

Yet  the  brave  and  loyal  Jteroos, 

Saw  the  sun  of  morning-  light, 
Ah  condemned  by  cruel  fortune 

Ne'er  to  see  the  star  of  night. 
From  the  main  deck  to  the  quarter, 

Strewed  with  limbs  and  wet  with  b! ;.  .o 
Poor  Tom  tlalhard  pale  and  woonded, 

Crawled  where  his  brave  capUiin  <too:\. 

0  my  nol>le  captain  tell  me, 
EVr  t  am  Iwrne  a  corpse  away, 

Have  I  done  a  seaman's  duty 
On  this  great  and  glorious  da-/ 

Tell  a  dying  sailor  truly. 

For  my  life  is  steering  fast,      * 
Have  I  done  a  seaman's  duty, 

Can  they  ought  my  memory  blas< 

.\h  l)rave  Tom  the  captain  answered, 
Thou  a  sailor's  part  have  done, 

1  revere  thy  wounds  with  sorrow, 

Wounds  by  which  our  glory's  woiv 

Thanks  my  captain  lite  is  ebbing, 

Fast  from  this  deep  wounded  Iveart 
But  oh  grant    one  little  favour, 

E'er  I  from  this  world  depart. 
Bid  some  kind  and  trusty  sailor. 

When  I  am  numbered  with  the  dead 
For  my  dear  and  constant  Catheriw 

Cut  a  kxjk  from  this  poor  head. 
Bid  him  to  my  Catherine  give  it. 

Saying  her's  alone  1  die, 
Kate  will  keep  the  mournful  present, 

And  embalm  it  with  a  sigh. 

Bid  him  to  her  this  letter  bear. 

Which  I've  penn'd  with  my  parting  beeath. 
Kate  may  ponder  on  this  writing, 

When  this  hand  is  cold  in  death. 
That  I  wdl  tne  captain  cried, 

And  be  ever  Catherine  s  friend 
And  my  good  and  kind  commander 

Now  ray  pain  and  sorrows  end. 

Mute  towards  ins  captain  weeping. 

Tom  upiais'd  a  ihankful  eye, 
VJrrateful  then  his  foot  embracing, 

Sunk  with  Kate  on  his  last  sig]». 

Who  then  saw  a  scene  so  mournfujj 

Could  without  a  tear  depart, 
He  must  own  a  savage  nature 

Pity  never  warmed    his  l>eart. 

Mow  in  his  white  hammock  sbrou«iML 

By  the  kind  and  pensive  c«i? 
Af  ne  di-spped  into  the  oeam 

*  UU<  XXX*  'Fosff  ftAc* 


The  Slave  Chase. 

Rjrle  &Co.,  Printers,  2  &  3,  Monmouth -court,  7  Diate 

SET  every  stitch  of  canvas  to  woo 
the  fresh'ning  wind. 
Our  bowsprit  points  to  Cuba,  the 

coast  lies  far  behind  ; 
Fill'd  to  the  hatches  full,  my  boys, 

across  the  sea  we  go, 
There's  twice  five  hundred  niggers 

in  the  stiflng  hold  below. 
A  sail !  what  say  you  boys  ?  well — 

let  him  give  us  chace, 
A   British    man-of-war,   you  say — 

well,  let  him  try  the  rac  e. 
There's  not  two  swifter  vessels  ever 

floated  on  the  waves, 
Than  our  tidy  little  schooners,  well 

ballasted  with  slaves. 

Now  stronger  yet,  and  stronger  still, 

came  down  the  fiery  breeze, 
And  even  fast  and  faster  sped  the 

strange  ship  on  the  seas  j 
Hinging  each  rudeandbursting  sur^ 

in  glittering  halos  back, 
\i\d.  bearing  high  to  heav'n  aloft,th« 

English  Union  Jack 
Now   curses  on    that  Ensign,    the 

slaving  captain^said, 
There's  little  luck  for  slavers  when 

English  bunting's  spiead- 
But  pack  on  sail  and  trim  the   ship, 

before  we'll  captured  be, 
We'll  have  the  niggers  up  my  boys, 

and  heave  ihem  in  the  sea. 

Hoarse  was  the  slaving  captaln'i  voice 

and  deep  the  oath  he  swore, 
Haul  down  the  flagthat's  shot  enough 

we  don't  want  any  more. 
Along  side  dashed  that  cruiser's  boat 

to  board  and  seize  the  pilze 
Hark  !  to  that  rattling  British  cheer 

that's  ringing  to  the  skies. 
Up,  up,  with  the  negroes  speedily, 

up,  up,  and  give  them  breath 
Clear  out  the  hold  from  stem  to  stern, 

that  noisome  den  is  death. 
And  run  aloft  St,  George's  Cross, 

and  wanton  let  it  wave, 
The  token  proud  that  under  it  there 

never  floats  a  slave. 


FARE  THEE  WELL 

MY    LOVE 

GOOD  MORROW. 

Rjle  &  Co.,  2,  &  3,  Monmouth 
Court,  7  Dials. 

IN  fall  pursuit  of  love  and  wine,  (road  ; 
A  smart  young  beau  came  down  the 
And  there  he  saw  fair  Emiline,  (bode. 

Whose  sloe  black  eyes  showed  loves  a- 
He  talked  long  to  the  maid, 

And  swore  to  love  and  honor: 
If  that  she'd  yield  to  what  he  said. 
He'd  marry  her  on  the  morrow. 

She  heard  his  vows  and  thought  them  true, 

And  went  with  him  to  sights  unknown, 
Oh,  long  the  eve  the  maid  will  rue, 

For  she  lost  parents,  friends  and  home. 
The  night  was  spent  in  bliss. 

The  morning  dawned  with  sorrow. 
He  left  the  maid  with  one  cold  kiss, 

Fare  thee  well,  my  love,  good  morrow. 

Now  thus  poor  girl  deluded  left, 
.     How  oft  she  roams  about  the  town 
She  oft  times  call  upon  his  name, 

And  calls  again  to  hear  her  moan 
She  starts  again  with  grief, 

Again  she  starts  with  horror  ; 
But  still  these  words  rung  in  her  ears. 

Fare  thee  well,  my  love,  good  morrow. 

And  thus  poor  girl  deluded  left," 

Scorned  by  all,  pitied  by  none. 
Of  every  kind  friend  bereft. 

She  died  near  her  once-loved  home. 
\ler  friends  she  had  disgraced, 

Now  mourn  alas  !  with  sorrow  ; 
And  on  her  tomb  these  words  were  placed 

Fare  thee  well,  my  love,  good  morrow. 


LASS  OF 


On  Richmond  Hill  there  Jives  a  ksa, 

More  bright  than  May-day  mowi, 
Whose  charms  all  otiier  maids  8ui;pas% 

A  rose  without  a  thorn. 
Tliis  lass  so  neat,  with  smiles  so  su'eeli 

Has  won  my  heart  complete  ; 
rd  crowns  resign  to  call  her  minev 

Sweet  lass  ol'  Richmond  Hill. 
Ye  zephyrs  gay  that  fan  the  air, 

And  wanton  ihrouo;h  the  grore, 
O  whisper  then  my  charming  fair, 

1  die  1      ^er  I  love. 
How  happy  will  this  shepherd  be 

Who  calls  this  nymph  his  own, 
O  may  her  choice  be  fix'd  on  me. 

Mine's  fix'd  on  her  alone, 

— M444 — 

Twn  on  a  bank  of  daises  sweet, 

A  lovely  maiden  sigh'd  ; 
TTie  little^lambkins  play'd  at  her  feet, 

'While  she  in  sorrow  cry'd — 
•*  Where  is  my  love,  where  can  he  gtraj 

When  Uius  a  blackbird  sung, 
•♦Sweet,  sweet,  sweet,  he  will  not  stay,** 

The  air  with  music  rung. 

'*  Oh,  mock  me  not,  bold  bird,"  she  8&idL 

•*  And  why  pray  tarry  here. 
Dost  thou  bemoan  some  younglix^  fled» 

Or  hast  thou  .ost  thy  dear  ; 
Ddst  thou  lament  hisabseuce,  say. 

When  thus  a  blackbird  sung, 

Sweet,  sweet,  sweet,  he  will  not  sfaj^* 

The  air  with  music  rung. 

•*  Sing  on,*'  she  cried,  "  thou  dianiiUf 

Those  dulcet  notes  repeat, 
?(•  music  e'er  like  thine  was  h^aid, 

So  truly  sweet,  sweet,  sweet ; 
O  that  my  love  was  here  to-day,** 

Once  more  the  blackbird  sunfi 

Sweet,  sweet,  he  comes  this  Wi{|* 

IW  AM*  w^th  vtisic  ruAcr. 


TOM 

TOPSAIL. 

A.RjrIe&  Co,.  Printers  2  and  3,  Monmoath 

Court,  Bloomsbury. 
<>•<>"♦•♦<>•<>•  <-«^ -^  <►<►<►<).  ^  .^  ^  ^  <,.<>  <k  <f>. 

r|^OM  Topslil  he  d  ed  aud  the  folks  piped  thujsr  eye 
*  And  told  of  Ills  virtues  with  many  a  sigh  ; 
And  told  when  alive  he  their  wants  would  relieve, 
Aud  even  with  a  tear  his  last  jienny  would  give, 
But  when  sorely  pressed  b_\  adversity's  gale. 
No  u  sul  lem  a  Land  to  mend  Tom's  tatttr  d  sail. 
He  thro' life's  lagiv.)ya)3;e  rough  storms  did  endure, 
And  fouKd  none  to  help  him — because  he  was  poos, 

M'a  wretch  in  distress  &'er  to  Tom  na?  nia>!e  known. 
He  measured  his  heart  by  the  worth  of  his  civn  ; 
His  blubbrring  eye  scarce  from  tears  would  lijfrain. 
He  felt  all  his  woe,  and  reliev'd  all  Lis  pain 
But  when  sorely  press'd  by  adversity's  gale. 
Not  a  soul  lent  a  hand  to  mend  Tom's  tatt  r'd  sail. 
He  thro*  life's  lust  voyage  rough  storms  did  endure, 
Aad  found  none  to  help  him  because  he  was  poor. 

poor  Tom  would  sometimes  at  ingratitude  sigh. 
When  those  he  reliev'd  passed  carelessly  bv  ; 
Vei  eveti  from  his  soul  he  would  pity  the  elves, 
VVlio  study  the  interest  of  none  but  tricmstrles, 
Fi>r  agjod  natu red  action  cries  Tom  must  prevail, 
VVit!i  the  pilot  above  who  can  manage  the  gale, 
Vet  thro'  life's  last  voyage  rough  sorms  did  endure 
Ati'l  fonud  none  to  help  hi  m  because  he  was  i)i>or 

A  f  lend  came  at  last  who  had  heard  of  Tum's 
He  approach  d  his  straw  pallet,  but  ah!  ■'twas  to  ?  I  ^ 
So  the  right  hand  o.'  friiudsbip  he  warmly  appl 
And  the  proffered  conatiun,  Tom  calmly  decijad. 
Tis  over  he  cried  —the  bright  moment  is  past, 
Tliis  old  leaky  hulk  is  now  sinking  at  kit, 
Sh  u'd  the  old  master  approve,  wheii  the 
He  sli  dl  then  be  rich  aUliOu^h  he  di  e  pr 


DE   BOATRIA^ 

DANCE. 


&Co.,  Piiiiler-,.2  &  3,  Monmouth  Conrt,  Sevnj 
Jials,  where  upwards  of  5000  ilifterent  sorts  of  ballada 
are  continually  on   snle,  .ogether  with  40  new  penny 
and  60  new  half-penny  song  hook.. 


DE  boatman  dance,  de  boatman  sing, 
De  boatman  lie  be  tbery  ting  : 
When  de  boatman  cum  t)n  shore, 
Him  spend  liim  money,  den  work  for  n»oi*. 
Dance,  de  boatman  dance, 
Oh  !  dance,  de  boatman  danw. 
We  dance  all  night  till  broad  daylight, 
^n*  go  home  wid  de  gals  in  de  mornin','haw  O. 
We  boatmen  boys  float  down  de  riber,  haw  u! 
De  boatman  liim  a  lucky  man. 
None  can  do  as  de  boatman  can  ; 
1  neber  knew  a  pretty  gal  in  all  ray  life, 
But  dat  she  was  de  boatman's  wife. 
1  went  on  board  de  oder  day, 
To  hear  what  de  boatmau  had  to  say; 
Him  could  not  let  'im  i-assiou  loose,' 
So  Ijira  put  me  in  u    n  Calaboos. 
Oh  !  let  me  go,  me  go  on  sliore  ! 
Oh  !  let  me  go,  me  cum  no  more  ! 
Him  put  me  in  a  horrid  fright, 
An         '  me  in  de  air  foj  a  wh.de  iortnigli 
Oh,  after  ua   to  bed  liim  goes, 
And  ober  us  him  pull  de  clothes  ; 
Him  lay  in  bed,  was  warm  and  snu" 
Him  jump  out  ob  bed  «case  hit  wid  u'bug. 
Den  round  de  bed  ivid  swilt  legs. 
And  dare  him  found  200,000  eggs! 
It  took  him  a  month  to  pick  dem  up 
During  which  time  him  neber  bite  or  8„p. 
lb  you  go  to  a  Nigger  ball, 
Dance  wid  n^e  or  don't  dance  at  all  • 
Says  blue  ja*kft,  and  he  spoke  flat,  * 
is,  be  awaf3  ob  de  lon^-iajled  cai. 


THE  FISHER  BOAT. 

No  reefer  struts  upon  her  d<-«!Jt, 

No  boatswain  pipes  Iter  cre-ir. 

Whose  rough  and  tarry  jo^-ket* 

Are  as  often  brown  a-t  hlue. 

Her  sails  ore  torn,  her  tiiiiher*  woem 

She's  but  a  crazy  cni/i, 

Vet  luck  beddes  her  in  the  gat«. 

And  plenty  crowns  her  lirniKrhi 

]jet  but  a  foe  insult  the  Inim. 

That  holds  their  cottage  ln.int. 

And  English  hearts  will  spring  from  e«f 

'Hie  merry  litde  loam. 

What  ho  !   wliat  ho  !   away  they  m, 

I'he  moon  is  high  and  bright,  * 

(Jod  speed  the  little  fisher  BwM, 

And  grant  a  starry  night. 

Xo  j>ennant  flutters  at  her  inuat 

No  port-holes  range  her  siil«>, 

A  dusky  speck  she  lakes  her  plft«« 

I'pon  the  midnight  tide. 

Wliile  gaily  sings  some  happy  b»Y. 

A  life  upon  the  sea, 

\Nith  jolly  mates,  a  whiskey  cwi. 

And  trusty  n<.'ts  for  me. 

Hut  many  an  hour  of  fearful  risJs 

Slie  meets  upon  the  wave, 

'Jhat  ships  of  stout  and  g»ant  form 

Would  scarcely  dare  to  brave. 

And  iiiany  a  one  with  trembling  UlOMk 

Will  trim  the  beacon  light, 

And  may  God  .sjteed  the  Fisher  Boitt 

Upon  a  stormy  night. 

We  prou  lly  land  th^j  daring  onoa 

Who  cross  the  pathlejBs  main. 

The  shining  gems,  and  yellow  dxnn 

Of  other  climes  to  gain 

We  honour  (hose  whose  hU.od  ia  triti 

The  mingled  waters  fotnui, 

Who  light  till  death,  to  guard  the  cafe 

Whose  waters  circle  rouna. 

Tis  well ;  but  let  us  not  forg^i 
llie  poor  and  gdlant  set. 
\Vho  toil  and  watch  wiien  olb«n  timm. 
To  cast  the  heavy  net. 
Their  perils  are  not  paid  by  ftust*, 
.  To  liim  the  beacon  liglit, 
A*'<i  mny  Gud  speed  liae  Kbk«{  fioaM 
Aik)  grau:  o  vtarry  lufd^ 


The  Bonny  Boy 

From  underneath  my  Apron. 

Kf  !e  and  Co.,  Printers,  Monraoulli  Court,  7  Dial«. 

AS  a  prettv  fair  maid  was  eoirg  up  the  stairs, 
Her  heart  w  as  full  of  f  orrow,  her  eyes  were 
fall  of  tears. 
Oh  \  what  is  the  nnatter  hfr  father  he  did  say. 

And  what  have  you  got  underneath  yonr  apfwi 
Oh  !  nothing  at  all.  (?ear  father,  s^id  she. 
It's  only  my  new  gown  it  is  too  long  for  Uje, 
And  for  fear  that  it  should  rumple,  or  trampled 
it  shoald  be, 
I've  roU'd  it  up  underneath  my  aproiS 

In  thp  middle  of  the  night  when  fill  'was  fost 

as'eep. 
This  pretty  fair  maiden  she  began  for  to  sqxieek 
Oh!  tell  me  what  is  that  sighing  there  so  sweely 
In  tlie  chamber  omougst  all  the  maideqs. 

Nolhing  at  a'l,  dear  father,  eaid  she. 

Only  a  little  baby  that  I  have  brought  to  thee^ 

And  deny  it  I  d«ny  it !   I  hope  you  never  may. 

And  I'll  show  it  you  early  in  the  moraing 
Oh  was  it  by  a  poor  man,  ot  was  it  by  a  clown, 
Or  was  it  by  the  gentleman  who  lately  cane  to 

town, 
That  gave  you  that  new  stomacher  to  wear  be- 
neath your  gown, 
And  you  roll'd  it  underneath  your  apron, 
It  was  not  by  a  poor  man,  it  was  not  by  a  clown 
But  it  was  by  the  gentleman  that  lately  came  to 

town, 
He  gate  to  me  a  stomacher  to  wear  with  my  new 
gown. 
And  I  roll'd  it  underneath  my  apronj 
Pray  was  it  in  the  kitchen,  or  was  it  in  the  hall 
Or  was  it  in  the  garden  among  the  flowers  all. 
Where  he  gave  to  you  the  stomacher,  to  wear 
with  your  new  gown, 
And  you  roll'd  it  underneath  your  apron. 
It  was  not  in  the  kitchen,  it  was  not  in  the  hall 
But  it  was  in  the  garden,  among  the  flowers  all. 
Where  he  gave  to  me  the  stomacher  to  wear  with 
my  new  gown. 
And  1  roll'd  it  underneath  my  apron. 

But  now  my  little  boy  he  can  walk  along  the 

street. 
With  his  red  morecco    hoes  upon  his  little  feet. 
And  1  am  not  asham'd  his  father  for  to  meet, 
e*s  my  bonny  boy  from  underneath  my  apron 


BEJV    BOLT. 


Ryle  and  Co.,  Printers,  2  &  3,  Monmouth  Court, 
7  Dials,  London. 


OH !  don't  you  remember  sweet  Alfce, 
Ben  Bolt, 
Sweet  Alice,  with  eyes  hazel  brown> 
How  she  wept  with  delight  when  yOu 
gave  her  a  smile, 
And  trembled  with  fear  at  your  frown 
111  the  old  church  yard  in  the  valley, 
a^n  Bolt, 
In  a  corner  obscure,  and  alone, 
They  have  fitted  a  slab  of  granite  so  grey 
And  sweet  Alice  lies  under  the  stone; 
They  have  fitted,  &c. 

Oh !  don*t  you  remember  the  wood, 

Ben  Bolt, 

Near  the  green  sunny  slope  of  the  hill 

Where  oft  we  have  snng,'neath  its  wide 

spreading  shade, 

And  kepttime  to  the  click  of  the  mill. 

The  mill  has  gone  to  decay,  Ben  Bolt, 

And  a  quiet  now  reigns  all  around, 
See  the  old  rustic  porch,  with  its  poses 
so  sweet. 
Lies  scattered  all  over  the  ground. 
See  the  old,  &c. 

Oh  !  don't  you    remember  the  school, 
Ben  Bolt, 
And  the  master  so  kind,  and  so  true, 
And  the  sweet  little  nook  by  the  ele^Jil 
running  brook, 
Where  we  gather'd  the  flowers  as  tb*y 
grew. 
0?er  the  master's  grave  grows  the  glrass, 
Ben  Bolt, 
And  theclear  runningbrookisnowdry 
And   of  all  our  old  friends  who  were 
schoolmates  then, 
There  remain  now  but  you  Ben,andt 
And  of  all,  &f . 


liOTE  IJOT. 

LOVE  not,  love  not,  ye  hopeless  sons  of  clay, 
Hope's  gayest  wreaths   are  made  of  earthly 

flow'rs — 
Things  that  are  made  to  fade  and  fall  away. 
When  they  have  blossom'd  but  a  few  short 

hours.  Love  not,  love  not. 

Love  not,  love  not :  the  thing  you  love  may  die, 
May  perish  from  the  gay  and  gladsome  earth ; 
The  silent  stars,  the  blue  and  smiling  sky. 
Beam  on  its  grave  as  once  upon  its  birth. 

Love  not,  love  not. 

Love  not,  love  not :  the  thing  you  love  may 

change ; 
The  rosy  lip  may  cease  to  smile  on  you ; 
The  kindly  beaming  eye  grow  cold  and  strange ; 
The  heart  still  warmly  beat,  yet  not  be  true. 

Love  not,  lore  not. 
Love  not,  love  not !  oh,  warning  vainly  said, 
Ir  present  hours  as  in  years  gone  by  ! 
Love  flings  a  halo  round  the  dear  one's  head- 
Faultless,  immortal,  till  they  change  or  die. 
Love  not,  love  not. 

MY  ERIN,  O ! 

TflE  sultry  climes  of  foreign  shores. 
May  bid  Lusanna's  flow'rs  to  blow ; 
But  there  is  one  in  Erin's  isle. 

That  I  love  far  beyond  them  O. 
Its  leaves  unfold  the  patriot's  heart; 

In  honours  course  keeps  steering  O : 
It's  still  the  same  midst  heat  and  cold : 

*T  is  the  shamrock  of  my  Erin,  O. 
The  rose  may  bloom,  its  crimson  hue, 

And  every  son  of  Albion  charm  ; 
The  thistle,  Caledonia's  pride, 

May  twine  around  each  bosom  warm; 
But  hail  to  thee,  thou  plant  so  dear, 

In  my  lov'd  land  appearing  O  I 
'T  is  still  the  same  midst  heat  and  cold: 

'T  is  the  shamrock  of  my  Erin  O. 

A  plant  thou  art  so  true  and  dear. 

Ever  blooming  fresh  and  fair. 
No  matter  what  it  does  appear, 

None  can  outshine  the  shamrock  O. 
The  flow'rs  In  spring  may  bloom,  *t  is  true 

But  after  all,  they  fade,  you  know : 
Then  here's  to  the  sweet  shamrock  green! 

Thou  art  an  emblem  of  my  Erin  O. 

O  was  I  now  in  Erin's  isle, 
'  No  sadness  would  befall  me  O; 
The  time  so  sweet  it  would  beguile, 

'Midst  scenes  of  joy  and  pleasure  O 
But  alas  !  I  'm  on  a  foreign  land, 

With  nought  but  wildness  round  me  O; 
Exil'a  from  my  native  land 
But  still  thou  art  my  Erin  O. 


MART,  THE  IIIAID 
OF    THE    GRBBBf. 


Paul  and  Co.,  Printers,  2  &  3,  Monmouth  Coart,  Seven 
Dials,  and  35,  Hanover  Street,  Portsea,  where  upwards 
of  4000  different  sorts  of  ballads  are  centinually  on 
sale,  together  with  40  new  penRy  song  books. 


IF  beauty  doth  love  to  the  bosom  convey, 
I  surely  that  passion  must  share : 
I  gaze  on  thy  image,  dear  Mary,  all  day, 

And  find  all  that's  lovely  is  there, 
Mary  by  each  village  swain  was  confest, 

The  loveliest  ever  was  seen : 
Tho'  humble  her  dwelling,  content  is  the  guest 
Of  Mary  the  maid  of  the  green. 
Sweet  Mary  the  maid  of  the  green, 
'  Dear  Mary  the  maid  of  the  green, 
Tho'  humble  the  dwelling,  content  is  the  guest 
Of  Mary  the  maid  of  the  green. 

What  though  she's  bedecked  not  with  jewels  nor 
lace, 

She  needs  not  such  trifles  as  those  ; 
Nor  e'er  need  to  add  to  the  blush  of  a  face, 

Which  so  many  beauties  disclose. 
No  blush  ever  bloomed  from  the  bud  of  the  ios« 

So  lovely  as  Mary  was  seen  -, 
Then  I'd  gladly  resign  all  the  wealth  of  t 
world, 

For  Mary,  the  maid  of  the  jrew 

Sweet  Mary,  the  maid  of  the  green. 

Dear  Mary,  the  maid  of  the  green  ; 
Then  I'd  gbdly  resign  all  the  wealth  of  th 
world 

For  Mary,  the  maid  of  the  green. 


THC 

Postman's  Knock 

Ryle  &  Co.,  Printer,,  2  &  3,  Moamouth-court, 
'  be venT>ials,  London. 

l^HAT  a  wonderful  man  the  Postman  is, 
Whaf  1    "^stens  from  door  to  door  ; 

Fo  ^T'^1'^  ^^  "'^«  h's  ha»ds  contain, 
*"  Or  high,  low,  rich  and  poor. 

in  many  faces  hejoj  can  trace, 

A.?u*'."'^"^^^S"efcansee, 

AS  the  door  is  ope'd  to  his  loud  ran  tap, 

And  his  qmcic  delivery'. 

^-very  morn,  true  as  the  clock, 

5>omebody  hears  the  Postman's  knock. 

"^w^.i!'^?-'?"'^  "^'^^  ^he  news  of  a  birtfc, 
VVith  tidings  of  death  No.  4  :  * 

"^y^J  ^  bill  of  a  terrible  length 

He  drops  through  the  hole  in  the  door 

Tn^Vf^^-    ^"^  ^'■^""  ^'  ^5  ^«  leases. 
WK-,    li  i"^  presence  doth  prove  : 
While  17  does  an  acknowledgement  get, 

And  18  a  letter  of  lore.  ' 

Every  morn,  rue  as  the  clock, 
Somebody  hears  the  Postman'*  knock. 

May  his  visits  be  frequent  to  those  who  expect 

^  line  from  the  friends  they  hold  dear, 
liut  rarely  we  hope  compell'd  he  will  be 
^  Disastrous  tidings  to  bear.  "     " 
Far,  far  be  the  day  when  the  envelope  shows 

l^e  dark  borde- shading  it  o'er. 
Then  long  life  to  Her  Majesty's  servaftt  we  say 

And  oft  may  he  knock  at  our  door; 
Every  morn,  true  as  the  clock, 
Somebody  hear*  ke  Pogtmaa*s  kitock 


LAniES 


.«d,  „f  5000  <>iffere„,  "rof  UU,'d/.7e^?„inv"'S 


MARRIED  men,  draw  near  awhile 
And  bucks  that  are  so  dasliinf 
While  I  describe  all  I  know 
About  the  ladies  fashions. 
Large  bonnets  and  their  fui below?. 

And  bustles,  too,  alas  ! 
The  ladies  they  have  come  to  wear. 
To  substitute  tUeira — . 

'fiddle  die  rum  de  bi?m. 

As  Toddy  and  his  wife. 
Went  out  to  lake  the  air, 

Says  Toddy  to  his  wife. 

What  is  it  you've  got  there 

That  every  one  looks  round- 
As  you  and  I  do  pass  ? 

It's  very  strange  that  they 
"^p  staring  at  your  a—. 

Tiddle^Ac 

Why,  don't  you  kno^,  my  dear, 

•  hat  ladies,  now-a-dayg, 
Shew  every  thing  so  clear  * 
Without  the  use  of  stavs  ? 
I've  left  them  oif,  said  she. 

Like  every  dandy  lasg, 
Amd  clapped  a  bustieo  n. 

Just  to  shape  my 

i  iddJe,  4p, 

A  bustle  !  prAy  waat's  that? 

You  uever  bustled  yet 
Except  thfc  other  day 

When  in  a  druntin  fit 
ttriie,  to  sjiape  your  - . 

A  nameless  thing,  alas 
More  like  a  silly  ape, 
^  Than  any  lady's  a~ . 

Tiddte  *e. 

Then  mind  my  sequel  now ' 

Misfortune  oft  will  come  • 
The  bustle  got  loose  some  how. 

And  fell  off  from  her  — :    i 

Just  at  that  very  time  ' 

An  urchim  chanced  to  pasa. 
Who  bawled  out  in  words%ubhme 

Here,  ma'am,  you've  dropped  youj 
Tidd;e.,*p 

Then  Toddy  cursed,  and  svore 
He'dnerergooutagaii, 

If  such  strange  things  she  wore. 
Unless  she  were  in  pain  ' 

The  ladies  laughed  and  grinned 

But  hoped  th..  hint  w^ould  pa's. 
That  thoe  *no  venture  out 
Would  fasten  on  their  a-1. 


tl 


g  1 


oit^s  lieply 


jir—^^Bcn  B'dt,:' 


RYLE  &  <"o.,  Pi  inters,  2  &  3,  Momvonth  Court 
7  Dials,  London. 


H !  yes,  I  remember  that  name  with 
dcli2:iit. 

Sweet  Alice,  so  chcrish'd  and  dear; 
Iseek  her  lone   Kravc  in  the  pale  hoar 
of  night, 
And  moisten  tlie  turf  with  a  tea?  ; 
And  there,  when  the  heart   is   o'erbur- 
denM  with  woes, 
I  wander  and  muse  all  alone, 
And  long  for  the  time  when  my  head 
shall  repose 
"Where   sweet  Alice  lie^  under  tbe 
stone." 

And  long,  &c. 

I  r^am  thro'  the  wood  where  so  joyous 
we  stray'd, 
And  recline  on  the  grecu  sunny  hill 
All  things  are  as  bright  in  that  beau- 
tiful glat^e. 
But  my  heart  is  all  lonely  mid  chill  ; 
For  the   hand  that  so   fondly   I    then 
pressed  in  mine, 
/  nd  the  lips  that  were  melting  wiih 
love, 
^re  cold  in  the  grave,  and  Tm  left  to 
repine, 
'Till  Tmeet  with  sweet  Alice  above. 
Are  cold,  &c. 

J*h  !   well  I  remember  the  school hojksc 
and  brook, 
"And  the  master  so  kind  &  so  true,** 
The  w  ild  blooming  flowers  in  the  cool 
shady  nook. 
So  fra2;rant  with  incease  and  dew. 
But  I  \^eep  not   for  the^e,  though  so 

dear  to  my  heart, 
i     Nor  the  friends  that  have  left  us  alooe, 
iThe  bosom   will   heave   and  the    tear 

drops  will  start, 
\    For  *sweet^Aliee  lies  under  the  stone' 
'^-v^,,     '  *  For  sweet,  &c. 


THE 


BO  you  remember  the  6l(Tsorf1ier*s  daughter 
As  fait  as  the  morning  in  sprint-  time  was 
8b  e, 
Aad  many  a  lo>er  warmlj-  had  sought  ber. 

To  all  she  was  distant  as  maiden  couid  be. 
rtear  father,  she  cried,  with  thee  let  nio  tarry, 

Though  homely  our  cottage,  a  home  'tis  to  me 

Afld  a  TOW  I  hare  made  that  I  never  will  raarrv 

Tlien  let  me  lire  happy,  dear  father,  with  thte. 

Btjt  vain  was  Uie  tow  of  theold  soldier's  danghter 

Tonng  Patrick  he  woo'd  her,  though   humble 
was  be, 
He  knelt  at  her  feet,  to  his  bosom  he  cuight  Ive/ 

And  whisper'd  to  say  when  the  bridal  shall   c. 
Deor  father,  she  cried,  'twere  a  pi>y  to  tarry, 

A  cow  and  a  cottage  has  Patrick  for  me, 
And  so  dearly  he  loves  me,  Tri!  tempted  to  mamv 

And  both  »  ill  live  happy  de^r  father, with  thee 

Wlro  was  the  touse  of  l1;e  old  soldier's  daughter 
^  itb  Patrick  besde  her — a  bale  on  l.erknee 
iSeaged,  thebles-scd,  ami  the  youthful  all  sought 
hcT, 
And  nore  we  e  so  ( heerful  and  happy  as   she. 
And  fain  was  the  soldier  beside  In  in  tarry 
Till    der>th    gently   callrd    him,    and    cil'raly 
slept  he. 
But  she  still  blessed  the  day  she  was  teraed 
marry, 

Saying,  Patrick,  thou  arlnow  the  world'sloi' 
oet. 


sy 


Four    Leaved 

SHAlHaOCK 

aucl   Co.,  Fnnteis,  ^  6i  <i,  Aiuii- 
moutli-court,  7  Dials. 

I'LL  seek  a  tour-leaved  shamrock  ^ 

*•     iu  all  ihe  tairy  dells, 

'\nd  It  1  tind  llie  cliarnaed  leaves. 

(J  how  I'll  weave  my  spells!  j 

I  would  not  wasie  my  uiagic  might 

On  diauioud,  pearl,  or  ^old, 
For  treasure  ures  the  weary  sense ;— » 

Such  triumph  is  but  cold  : 
But  1  will  play  ih'  enchanter's  part 

iu  casting  bliss  around  : 
U  uot  a  tear  nor  aching  heart 

Should  in  the  world  be  found. 

To  worth  I  would  give  honour, 

I'd  dry  the  mourner's  tears,^ 
Aiid  to  the  pallid  lip  recall 

The  smile  ot  happier  years; 
And  hearts  that  had  been  long-  estranjfcii 

And  friends  that  had  grown  cold, 
Siioald  meet  again  like  parted  streAins, 

AJud  mingle  as  of  old. 

O  thus  I'd  play^  6c*. 

*oe  heart  that  had  been  mourning 

O'er  vanished  dreams  of  love, 
ofconld  see  them  all  returning. 

Like  Noah's  faitliful  dove 
And  hop   should  lauHch  her  blessed  ba  I 

Ob  sorrow's  darkening  sea, 
And  misery  8  chiMren  nave  an  ark^ 

Ap^   ^ved  from  sinking  be. 


WiTH 


All  thy  Faults 

I  LOVE 

Thee  Still* 


and  Co.,   Printers,  2  &  3,    M 
mouth  Court,   Seven    Dials. 

T  LOVE  thee  still,  with  all  thy  faults 
*'     Ah  I  why  that  trembling  voice  ? 
Thy  lover  still  will  thee  ex;iit, 
And  make  thy  heart  rejoice. 
Years  have  rolled  on  since  last  we  mut 

With  all  the  slanderer's  skill. 
My  beating  heart  can  ne'er  lorjjet 
With  all  thy  faults  1  love  thee  stil^^ 

love  thee  still,  tho'  friexdg  may  tell 

That  we  shall  ne'er  agree; 
f  here's  nought  on  earth  c&n  break  the'  sp    t 

That  binds  my  soul  to  thee. 
Vears  may  roll  on  ere  next  we  meet : 

With  all  the  slanderer's  skill, 
Mv  once-loved  heart  must  skU  repent;     »    « 

With  all  thy  faults  I  lore  thee  still, 

love  thee  still,  Ibove  all  on  eart   ; 
I'm  constant  yet  to  thee ; 
And  whilst  I've  breath  I'll  speak  thy^  woi  ♦  .» 

Thy  name  is  dear  to  me. 
And  when  on  dying  coucn  I'm  laid. 
This,  this  shall  be  my  will — 
•arch  far  and  near  and  tell  the  maid. 
With  all  her  faults  1  love  her  ssill 


OLD 

DOG    TRAY. 


Ryle  &  Co.,  Printers,  2  &  3,  Monmouth 
Court,  7  Dials. 


THE  morn  of  life  is  p»st. 
And  evening  comes  at  last. 
It  brings  a  dream  of  a  once  h^ppy  day, 

Of  meiTy  forms  Vte  seen 

Upon  tUe  Tillage  green. 
Sporting  with  my  old  dog  Tray. 

Old  dog  Tray  is  ever  faithful. 
Grief  cannot  drive  him  away. 

He  is  gentle,  he  is  kind, 

I'll  never,  never  ;find, 
A  better  friend  than  old  dog  Fray. 

The  forms  1  c&Wd'jmy  own. 

Have  vanished  "one  by  one. 
The  lov'd  ones,  tke  dear  ones,  have   all 
passed  away, 

Their  happy  smiles  are  flown, 

Their  gentle  voices  gone, 
I've  nothing  left  but  old  dog  Tray. 

Old  dog  Tray  is  ever  faithfulj 
Grief  cannot  drive  hino  away, 

He  is  gentle,  he  is  kind, 

I'll  never,  never  find, 
A  better  friend  tiian  old  dog  Tray. 

When  IhoughU  recall  the  past. 

His  eyes  are  on  me  cast, 
1  know  that  he   feels  what  my  br*  aking 
heart  would  say, 

Although  he  cannot  speak, 

I'll  vaiHly,  vainly  seek, 
A  better  friend  than  old  dog  Tray. 

Old  dog  Tray  is  ever  faithful. 
Grief  cannot  drive  him  away. 

He  is  gentle,  he  is  kind, 

I'll  never,  never  find, 
A  better  friead  than  old  dog  Tray, 


MY 


Own  Dear  Home. 


Ryleand  Co.,  Printers,  2  and  3,  Monmouth-couri, 
Seven  Dials. 

VVherever  I  wander,  wherever  I  stray, 

I  think  on  my  ohihlh.iod  an«l  fond  mother's  days. 

And  as  by  myself  I  sit  pensive  alone, 

I  look  back  with  pleasure  on  my  first  dear  home. 

WheQ  ffrown  up  to  manhood  if  away   you  ^hoald 

steer, 
Some  thousands  of  miles  frem  your  birth-jHace,  so 

dear. 
If  into  ifreat  dangers  yon  should  happen  to  roam. 
You  will  think  with  a'smile  on  your  own  dear  home, 

If  you  are  blest  with  a  wife,  in  affliction  you'll  find, 

A  nurse  and  a  parent  both  tender  and  kind. 

Who  fondly  will  chfiish  you  and  weep  while  you 

moan. 
There  is  no  place  on  earth  like  your  own  dear  home. 

The  scripture  says  if  you'll  be  happy  through  life, 
Leave  father  and  mother  and  cleave  to  your  wife. 
She  will  never  forsake  thee  and  leave  thee  alone, 
But  welcome  thee  kindly  to  thy  own  dear  home. 

And  if  amongst  strangers  you  should  happen  to  no 
In  broils  and  in  tumults  overwhelmed  with  woe. 
Thou  would'st  say  to  ihyself,what  induced  me  to  roam 
Or  to  ramble  away  troui  my  own  dear  home. 

When  a  man  from  his  lahour  returns  in  the  eve. 
To  them  whom  he  did  in  the  mornift^soon  leave. 
His  wife  and  his  children  flock  round  him  alone, 
And  welcome  him  kindly  to  his  own  dear  home. 

There  he  sits  down  in  comfort  by  his  own  fire  side. 
Has  w  hat  he  desires,  ther's  nothing  denied,    . 
He  hears  the  winds  whistle  while  he  sits  alone. 
And  finds  every  plea5urc  in  his  own  dear  home. 

Hts  children  hang  round  him  then  so  merriljr. 
One  clings  to  his  arms,  one  creeps  to  his  knee, 
Bereft  of  all  sorrow  with  his  children  alone, 
He  linds  no  place  so  pleasant  as  his  owu  dear  home. 

And  when  his  last  hour  in  this  world  arrives. 
He  blesses  his  babes  and  his  partner,  and  (ifet. 
Then  his  wife  aud  children  in  sorrow  will  roam. 
To  see  him  conveyed  to  his  last  home. 


ViUkins  &  his  Dinah 


'T^IS  of  a  ricn  mcrahant,  who  in  London  does  dwell 
A       He  had  but  one    daughter;,  au  uiikiraraon  nice 
young  gal  ; 
Hgt  name  it  was  Dinah,  scarce  sixteoa  years  oil. 
With  a  very  large  portion  of  silver  and  gold. 

1  Tol  la;  ral  lal,  &c. 

As  Dinah  was  a  valiking  the  gardca  one  day. 
Her  papa  came  lo  her,  and  thus  h«  did  say, 
*'  Go  dress  thyself  Dinali,  in  gjorgeous  array. 
And  take  thyself  a  husiband  both  galliant  and  gay,'' 

'^Oh,  papa  !  oh,  papa!   I've  not  made  up  my  mind. 
And  to  mi\rry  just  yet  why  I  don't  feel  inclined. 
To  you  my  large  fortune  I'll  gladly  give  o'er, 
If  you  let  me  live  single  a  year  or  two  more.'* 

"  Go,  go,  boldest  dsughter,"  the  parieut  replied  ; 

'•  If  you  won't  consent  to  be  this   here  young  man's 

bride,j 
I'll  give  your  large  fortune  to  the  uearent  of  kin, 
And  you  shan't  reap  the  benefit  of  one  siaglo  pin.*' 

As  Vllikins  vas  valiking  the  garden  Around. 
He  spied  his  dear  Dinah  laying  dead  upon  the  ground. 
And  the  cup  of  cold  yison  it  lay  by  her  side: 
With  a  bdlct-dux  stating  'twas  by  pison  she  dtoc. 

He  kissed  her  cold  corpus  a  thousand  times  o'er, 
And  called  her  his  Dinah  «  thousand  times  o'er, 
Then  swallowed  the  pison  iike  a  lovyer  so  brave, 
And  Vilikins  and  his  Dinah  lie  both  in  one  grave. 

3^,  MORAL 

Now  all  you  young  maidens  take  warning  by  her, 

K«Ter  not  by  uo  means  disobey  your  govenor, 

Aad  all  you  young  fellows   mind  who  you  clap  your 

eyes  on, 
ftink  of  Vilikius  and  his  Dinah,  and  the  cup  of  cold 

pison 


The  Merry  Men 

OF  ENGLAND 


Ryle  &  Co.,  'Printers,  Monmouth-court, 
7  Dials. 


OH  !   the  merry  nen  of  Eng-land. 
They  are  valiant,  stout  and  bold, 
They're  manly  hearts  to  o;^uard  their  rights 

Theii  fathers  won  of  oid  •, 
They've  sturdy  frames  to  forge  the  arms. 

That  guard  onr  native  shore, 
And  stalwart  limbs  to  wield  them  too. 

As  Britons  did  of  yore  ; 
Though  other  lands  are  bright  and  gay. 

The  one  dear  s^wt  of  eartli, 
A  Briton  proudly  loves  to  own, 

Is  that  which  gave  him  birth. 
Go  'mid  the  *tnrdv  peasant  band, 

And  tell  me  truly  then, 
What  nation  boasts  the  happy  homes 

Of  England's  meiry  men. 

Oh  !  the  merry  men  of  England, 

Are  our  island's  pride  and  boast, 
Theo  fill  with  stout  and  galltnt  hea 

The  ships  that  ^uard  our  coast  ; 
And  while  we  praise  a  Nelson 

As  the  hero  of  the  seas, 
We'll  Bc'er  forgst  the  men  f 

Who  I'clp'd  to  gain  the  victories  ; 
The  standard  of  our  ocean  home 

The  breeze  still  proudly  braves, 
Fer  never  will  a  Briton  yield 

The  mas-'ery  ot  the  waves. 
Oh  I  shout  ye  for  our  sailors  bold. 

And  tell  mo  truly  then. 
What  nat'on  boastf  such  gallant  tars, 

As  England's  merry  men. 

Oh  !  the  merry  men  of  England, 

They're  loyal^to  their  Queen, 
And  long  to  guard  the  British  fair,J 

Their  pride  and  boast  has  been  ; 
They  never  bow,  nor  bend,  like  slave 

To  those  of  high  degree, 
But  with  the  proudest  in  the  land' 

Claim  equal  liberty; 
Yet  Anarchy's  destructive  b  a 

Is  driven  from  our  shore, 
The  people's  equal  laws  and  rights, 

They  ask— and  nothing  more. 
Then  look  the  world  around  ag^fn, 

And  tell  me  truiy  then, 
What  nation  boasts  such  happy  home? 
As  England's  mer*rj  men. 


t?2fti>- . 


i 


I'OOK. 

ROSA    HAY. 

Ryle    and  Co.,  Printers,   Monmouth-court,  7 

Dials. 

COME  darkie    listeu  iiul)  liie. 
A  story  I  Ml  relate, 
vVhich  happeueil  in  a  valley, 

lu  Ole  Caroliuo  state; 
All  down  among  the  meadows, 

I  used  to  mow  the  hay, 
I  s-lways   worked  the  harder. 

Wheel  thought  of  Kosa  May. 
Oh  1  dearest  May,  youre  lov  i   e 

day 
Your  eyes  so  bright,  they   s   ine    at 
uight, 
Wheu  the  moon  is  gone  away. 

My  master  gave  me  holiilKy, 

He  said  he'd  give  meluore, 
I  very  kindly  t!>au'A,ed  him. 

As  1  rowed  my  boat  from  shore  ; 
Theu   down  the  river  i  did  go, 

With  my  heart  «>o  iight  aud   gny, 
To  the  coitageof  my  own  true  love, 

My  dearest  Rosa  I»Iay. 

VVe  vowed  to  love  each  oiher  long, 

As  we  alone  did  stray, 
And  oft  roy  merry  banjo's  song, 

Was  Ifuued  to  lloso  IVlay  ; 
The  white  mau  witli  liis  spreading  sails 

Did  bear  ray  love  away, 
Aud  now  my  broken  heart  bewails, 

The  loss  of  Rosa  May, 

I  sat  beneath  the  old  oak  tree, 

I  have  sat  for  many  an  hour 
A  watching  of  the  humming  birds, 

That  hopp'd  from  iiower  to  ftowei, 
I  have  seen  my  boat  upon  ihe.nver, 

I  have  leaped  light  and  gay, 
But  I  never  was  so  happy, 

As  wth  my  Rosq  May 


SKEW  BALL. 

COME  gentlemen  sportsmen  I  pray  nsien  ati 
I  will  sing-  you  a  song-  in  praise  of  Skew  Ball , 
Apid  how  he  eame  over  you  shall  understand. 
It  was  by  Squire  Mervin'  the  peail  ot  our  land, 
And  of  his  late  actions  you  have  heard  before 
He  was  lately  challenged  by  one  Sir  Ralph  Gore 
For  fire  hundred  guineas  on  the  plains  of  Kildare 
To  run  with  Miss  Sportly  that  famous  grey  mar4. 

Skew  Ball  then  hearing  the  wager  was  laid, 
Unto  his  kind  master  said  dont  be  afraid, 
For  if  on  my  side,you  thousands  lay  would 
T'would  rig-  on  your  castle  a  fine  mass  of  gold. 
The  day  being  come  and  the  cattle  walked  forth. 
The  people  came  flocking  from  East,  North,  and  Souii. 
For  to  view  all  the  sporters  as  I  do  declare 
And  venture  their  money  all  on  the  grey  mare 

Squire  Mervin  then  smiling  unto  them  did  sav 
Come  gentlemen  sportsmen  to-morrow's  the 
All  you  who  have  hundreds  1  will  lay  you, 
ForVll  venture  thousands  on  famous  Skev; 
Squire  Mervin  then  smiling  unto  them  d' 
Come  gentlemen  sportsmen  to  morrow' 
Spurs,  horses  and  saddles,  and  bridle 
For  you  must  ^way  to  the  plains  of 

The  day  being  come  the  cattle 
Squire  Mervia  then  ordered  hiy-^ 
And  all  the  spectators  to  clear  t> 
The  time  being  come  not  one  mo. 
These  cattle  being  mounted  awa* 
Skew  Ball  like  an  arrow  pass'^> 
The  people  went  up  to  see  thet*  h 
Thoy  said  in  their  hearts  th,vt  ihev    . 
g-round. 

But  as  they  were  running  in  the  midst  Qi\ 
Squire  Mervin  to  his  rider  then  began  !r.s\ 
O  loving  kind  rider  come  tell  unto  me 
How  far  at  this  moment  Miss  Sportlys  froni, 
O  loving  kind  master  you  bear  a  great  Mvle. 
The  grey  mare's  behind  you  a  long  En^  li^    v. 

HtkB  saddle  maintains  me  Ml  warrant  von  iV-r 
You  ne'er  shall  be  beat  on  the  plains  of  Kudare 
But  as  they  were  running  by  the  distant  cl.*ir 
Th«  gentlemen  cried  out  Skew  Bali  never  tija^ .       , 
4itho'  in  this  countrv  thou  wast  ne'er  .seen  beforfc 
rbou  ha»tbeateu  Miss  sp'>'tly  wl  Ur-^Ve  sir  Ral^o 


I 


ILoveCIheer 


X 


p 


9 


Cheer,  leve  cheer,  no  more  will  we  be  parted, 

Hut  in  the  banns  of  wedlock,  united  we  will  be. 

For  since  I  left  my  darling-.  I'm  nearly  broken  hearted. 

1  ventured  for  promotion,  across  the  briney  sea. 

Fortune,  lucky  fortune,  kindly  smiled  on  me. 

Safely  1  am  landed,  young,  and  in  ray  prime. 

To  live  1  will  endeavour,  with  you  my  love  for  ever,. 

V)\  wed  with  you  my  darling  this  merry  Christmas  jiay. 

Cheer,  love  cheer,  my  heart  for  you  is  breaking-. 
Cheer,  love  cheer,  be  merry,  spruce,  and  gay. 
Cheer,  love  cheer,  this  is  a  happy  rn^eti^.- 
Cheer,  love  cheer,  for  naeci^'^^^nTtmas  Day. 

Eif^land  it  is  well  8tor'd,J>|f^i^lA^f  provisions, 
Every  thing  in  rea8dtt^ijj;,|d^|»4^o  cheer,^^ 
To  Australia  many  ventured  out' it  is  my  decisiorPr~ 
'i  hey  would  rather  be  in  England,  with  friends  they  love 

80  dear. 
Far  from  iheir  home  and  without  habitation. 
Some  for  ever  banished  to  a  distant  foreign  clime, 
Parted  from  their  lover's  each  friend  anJ  dear  relation, 
Will  think  upon  tlioir  native  home — this  merry  Christ- 
mas tims. 

Tt^er**8  geese  and  turkey's  plenty,  fine  rabbits,  hares,  and 

pheasants, 
It  shows  that  merry  Clirisimas  is  drawing  very  near, 
Tlie  messengers  are  busy  in  circulating  presents. 
Old  England  for  ever,  and  the  season  of  the  year, 
Sout  beef  and  plura  puuding  !  love  for  to  be  catting. 
In  the  land  of  plenty,  come  listen  to  my  rhyme, 
lk)aie  will  live  in  spleiidour  while  others  are  starvin.;. 
Yet  we  still  keep  hoping  for  a  merry  Christmas  tituc. 

j»ftss  round  the|r«>g,  let  the  toast  go  round  the  table 
Drink  to  every  friend  and  united  we  will  be 
We'll  keep  up  the  game  as  Icuig  as  we  are  able, 
Another  meriy  Chriutmas  we  may  not  live  to  see. 
lite  it  is  uncertain  with  each  rank  and  station. 
The  rich  as  well  as  -poor,  that  debt  we  all  will  par. 
Altho'  great  distinction  is  held  in  this  nation. 
But  let  us  all  be  jovi«l"<»yw»«rry  Cbristmas  Day. 


C    Paul,!Vinter,l8,  Great   6t,     ndre«r-»tr©««, 
Broad  street,  Bloomsbury. 

Sold  by  G.  Mason,  38,  Kent-street,  Boro' 


i*i'- 


.  i  V;Jiu.  jA.vi<«r' 


~'%^ 
,i^-^ 


Thou  art  gone  from  my  gaze  like  a  beautiful  dreana. 
And  1  seek  the  in  vain  by  the  meadow  and  stream. 
Oft  1  breath  tliy  dear  name  to  the  winds  floating  by. 
But  thy  sweet  voice  is  mute  to  my  bosom's  lone  sigh^ 
In  the  stillness  of  the  night  wheh  the  stars  mildly 

shine,  KA 

My  heart  fondly  holds  a  communion  with  thine. 
For  1  fell  thou  art  dear  and  where  e'er  1  maybe, 
I'hat  thy  spirit  of  love  keeps  a  watch  over  lae. 

Of  the  birdi5  in  thy  bower,  new  Companions  1  make. 
Every  simple  wild  flower  1  prize  for  thy  sake. 
The  deep  woods  and  dark  wilds  can  a  pleasure  im- 
part, 
Pur  their  solUtude  srvits  their  sad  sorrow  worn  heart, 
Thou  art  gone  from  my  gaze,  yet  1  will  not  repine^ 
Er«  ODg  we  shall  meet  in  the  hope  that's  now  thine, 
''"or  1  feel  tboa  art  ne^r    *; 


i 


Vm  AFLOAT. 

I'M  afloat,  I'm  afloat,  on  the  fierce  rollings  tide  ; 
The  ocean's  my  home,  and  my  bark  is  my  bride. 
Up,  up  with  my  flag,  let  it  wave  o'er  the  sea, 
I'm  afloat,  I'm  afloat,  and  the  Rover  is  free  : 
I  fear  not  the  monavch,  I  heed  not  the  law  ; 
I've  a  compass  to  steer  by,  a  dagger  to  drawV 
And  ne'er  ns  a  coward  or  slave  will  I  kneel, 
WJiile  my  guns  carry  shot,  or  ray  belt  bears  a  steel. 
Quick!  quick!  trim  her  sail;  let  the  sheet  kiss 

the  wind,  * 

And  I  warrant  we'll  soon  leave  the  sea-gulls  be- 
hind. 
Cp,  up  with  my  flag,  let  it  wave  o'er  the  sea  : 
l,m  afltat,  I'm  afloat,  and  tlie  Rover  is  free;      ^ 
I,m  afloat,  I'm  afloat,  and  the  Rover  is  t'ree.f"-^ 

The  night  gathers  o'er  us,  the  tliuiider  is  heard  : 

What  matter?  our  vessel  sTtims  on  like  a  bird. 

What  to  her  is  the  dash  of  the  storm-ridden  main  ? 

She  has  braved  it  before,  and  will  brave  it  again  ; 

The  fire-gleaming  flashes  around  us  may  fall  — 

They  may  strike,  they  may  cleave,  but  they  can- 
not appal. 

With  lightnings  above  us  and  thunders  below, 

Through  the  wild  world  of  waters  right  onward 
we  go. 

Hurrah  I  my  brave  comrades,  ys  may  drink,  ye 
may  sleep , 

The  storm-fiend  is  hush'd  ;  we're  alone  on  the 
deep 

Our  flag  of  defiance  still  waves  o'er  t!)e  sea. 

r«J  afloat,  I'm  afloat,  and  the  Ro^er  is  free  I 
?>afloatrm  afloat,  and  the  Hover  isfiee' 


€:;Uii.  RRY  CHEEK 

FOR     ME. 


J.  Paul  and  Co.,  Printers,  2  &  S,  Moamoath  Court,  S«vea 
Diaia,  where  upwards  uf  5O0O  differeot  torts  of  ballads 
ar«  continually  on  sale,  tugetlirr  with  40  new  pennjr, 
irod  60  new  halfpenny  song  books. 


DOWN  in  yon  village  I  live  so  snug, 
They  call  me  Giles,  tlie  ploughman's  boy. 
Through  woods  and  o'er  stiles  as  1  trudge  UMny 

miles, 
1  whistle,  I  whistle,  and  whoop  gee  woo  Jerry. 
My  work  being  done,  to  the  lawn  then  I  fly. 
Where  the  lads  and  the  lasses  all  look  very  sly 
And  Ize  deeply  in  love  with  a  girl,  it  is  true. 
And  I  know  what  I  know,  but  1  munna  tell  yow ; 
But  I'll  whistle,  I'll  whistle,  for  all  the  girls 
e'er  did  see, 
Oh,  cherry  cheek  Patty  for  me. 

The  squire  so  great  so  happy  mayn't  be 

As  poor  simple  Giles,  the  ploughman's  boy. 

No  matters  of  state  e'er  addle  my  pate, 

But  I'll  whistle,  I'll  whistle,  and  wltoop  gee  wljo 

Jerry. 
Now  cherry  cheek  Patty  she  lives  in  the  vale. 
Whom  I  help  o'er  the  stile  with  her  milking  pail. 
And  Patty  has  a  like  notion  for  me,  it  is  true  : 
And  I  know  what  I  know  but  I  muiuia  tell  you. 
But  I'll  whistle,  I'll  whistle,  for  all  ihe  girls  I 

e'er  did  see, 
(^  Oh,  cherry  cheek  Patty  for  me. 

Ize  able  and  strong,  and  willing  to  wor    J 
And  when  the  lark  rises  off"  trudges. 
The  cows  up  I  call  and  harness  old  Ball, 
'  I  whistle  1  whistle  and  whoop  gee  who  Jerry. 
Then  Ize  fifty  good  shillings  my  luck  has  been 

sue* 
And  a  lad's  not  to  be  grinned  at  who  has  got  so 

much, 
And  when  that  I'm  married  to  Patty  so  true, 
I  know  what  I  know,  but  I  munna  tel  lyou, 
But  I'll  whistle,  I'll  whistle,  for  all  the  girk  _ 
'         e'er  did  see. 

Oh  cheny  Bfteek  Patty  or  m*« 


i 


MansbestFrieiid 

Air  ~'^Old  Djg  Trai/r 

Ryle  an  I  Co.,  Printers,  2  .^  3,  Monmouth 
Court,  7  Dials 

Ol''  my  wife  (  will  sing  in  praise, 
She  is  the  comtort  of  my  days, 
The  solace  and  the  pleasme  of  my  life  ; 
My  joys  and  sorrows  she  does  share, 
With  her  1  know  no  care, 
There  is  no  treasure  in  this  world  like  a  wife. 

JMy  wife  she  is  ever  true  and  faithful, 
Adversity  will  not  cause  her  for  to  roam, 
All  trouhles  slie  heguilcs, 
With  her  artless  winning  smiles. 
No  friend  is  like  u  good  wife  at  home. 

1  n  peace  we  live  at  home, 

We  have  a  cottage  of  our  own, 
No  angry  words  are  he.\rd  within  our  door ; 

And  tho'  frugnl  is  our  fare, 

We  still  have  some  to  spare, 
To  contrihute  to  the  wants  of  the  pyor. 

My  wife  she  is  ever,  &c 

When  from  labour  1  repair. 
What  happiness  is  there. 
My  welcome  she  proclaims  with  a  smi'e  ; 
To  meet  me  my  chddrc'ii  run, 
With  their  pretty  prattling  tongues, 
While  with  pride  their  motlier  looks  ou  the 
•  while. 

My  wife  she  is  ever. 

When  my  evening  m^al  is  o'er, 

1  seek  my  cottage  do>)r, 
Sui rounded  by  those  that  I  love  dear  ; 

Where  I  envy  not  the  great, 

Nor  would  1  change  my  state, 
To  become  a  titled  knight  or  a  peer. 

My  wife  she  is  ever,  8cc. 

Then  I  lay  me  down  to  rest, 

\nd  thank  Heaven  I  am  blest 
With  treasures,  such  as  gold  caniwt  buy ; 

And  may  they  continue  long,  , 

Till  the  sand  of  life  is  run, 
And  lam  gathered  witli  the  dust  for  to  lie. 
My  wife  she  is  ever,  &c. 

So  men  take  my  advice. 
And  a  woman  never  slight. 
For  a  wife  is  your  best  fr.tnd  as  1  will  prove 
For  in  affliction  you  will  find, 
She  never  will  repine, 
Flit  with  kindly  words  your  mind  she  will 
3O0the, 
For  a  good  wife  is  ever  true  and  faithful, 
Adversity  will  not  cause  her  to  roam, 
For  on  my  word  you  may  <lepend, 
If  you  wish  for  a  true  friend, 
Ihat  friend  must  be  a  good  wife  at  home. 


mildly 


Ever  of  Thsa. 


vie  and  Co.,  Printers,  2  and  .3,  Monmouth 
Court,  Seven  Dials. 

EVERofthec  Pm  fondly  dreaming 
I'liy  gentle  voice  my  suirit  can 
cheer ; 
Thou  wert   the    star,   that 
beamius^ 
Shone  o'er  the  path,  when  all  was 
dark  and  drear 
Still  in  my  heart  thy  form  I  cherish  ; 
Every  kind  thought  like  a   bird 
tiles  to  thee ; 
A-h,  never,till  life  and  memory  perish 
Can  I  forget  how  dear  thou'rt  to  me 
Morn,  noon,  and   night,  where'er 
I  may  be, 
Fondly  I'm  dreaming  ever  of  thee 


Ever  of  thee,  when  sad  and  lonely, 
Wandering  afar,  my  souFs  joy, 
to  dwell  — 
Ah,  then  I  felt  I  love  thee  only  ; 
All  seemed  to  fade  before  affec- 
tion s  spell 
Years  have  not  chill'd  the  love  I 
cherish — 
True  as  the  stars  hath  my  heart 
been  to  thee  ; 
Ah, never  till  life  and  memcry  perish 
Canl'forgethow  dearthou  art  to  me 
Morn,  noon,  and   night,  where'er  I 
may  be. 
Fondly  I'm  dreaming  ever  of  thee. 


i 


/f' 


THE  VrOMAIV  THAT    WISHED 

SHE   NEV£R  GOT  IKEARRIEH. 


V^OUNG  ladies,  have  pity  ou  me, 
*-     Let  me  iu  your  company  mingle  ; — 
1  once  was  a  maiden  so  free; 

Like  you  1  was  liappy  and  single  : 
My  mo'ber  advised  me  to  wed, 

Wlu  J  till  seventeen  1  had  tarried  ; 
To  church  1  set  off  iu  a  trice. 

With  a  man,  lack-a-day  I  to  be  married. 
Hite  fol  de  rol,  &c. 

A  short  time  he  loved  me  sincere. 
And  used  me  both  kindly  and  civil 

But  the  honevmoou  scarcely  wns  over. 
When  my  husband  turned  out  a  mere 
devil : 

The  bellows  he  threw  at  my  head. 
My  clothes  to  the  p()|)-shop  he  carried  : 
often  have  wislied  I'd  been  dead, 
Before  1  had  ever  been  married. 

•One  night  he  came  home  in  a  pet, 

And  burnt  my  new  boots  to  a  cinder, 
The  cat  he  kicked  under  the  grate, 

And  the  table  threw  outof  the  window  ; 
The  bed  he  took  up  ou  his  back, 

And  ofl  to  the  brokers  hecarrit  d  ; 
Hesold  both  the  poker  and  tongs; — 

Oh  I   1  wish  1  had  never  been  nuvrried. 
He  has  but  one  shirt  to  his  back  : 

Totiie  ginshop  he  likes  to  be  dashing. 
Suuday  all  daj  he  lays  in  the  bed, 

While  his  shirt  and  his  stockings  Tin 
washing  ; 
His  trowgers  are  all  full  of  holes. 

An  upron  before  him  he  canioi?, 
When  in  D^.i  he  snoier  like  a  pi^, 

Ob  !  I  ,tisb  1  p  ^ '^»^vei  got  iii;trriii] 


My  husband  's  a  comical  man, 

He  is  a  regular  out-and-out  nipper; 
He  lays  out  his  money  himself, 

In  tea,  sugar, candles,  aud  pepper. 
Sometimes  for  a  ha'p'orth  of  starch, 

A  week  or  a  fortnight  I've  tarried  ; 
1  'm  pothered  to  death  and  half  starved 

Oh  !   1  wish  I  had  never    been  married 
Whenever  he  buys  any  meat — 

Once  a  month,  or  1  'm   greatly  mi 
taken — 
It  is  only  a  sheep's  head  and  pluck. 

Or  a  small  bit  of  liver  and  bacon.   - 
He  says  bread  and  butter  is  dear. 

And  times  are  most  shocking  and  horrid 
1  drink  water  while  he  driuksstrong  beer 

Oh  I  1  wish  1  had  never  been  married 

To  the  landlord  the  rent  he  won't  pay. 

Because,  he  declares,  he 's  not  able 
He  has  nought  to  be  taken  away 

But  two  broken  chairs  and  a  table; 
For  the  bedclothes, the  kettles, and  broom 

And  washing  tubs,  off  he  has  carried 
May  old  Nick  fetch  himoff  very  soon  t 

Oh  !   1  wish  1  had  never  been  married, 
1  should  be  happy  aud  joyful  once  more 

If  1  could  but  just  see  it  all  right: 
May  old  Nick  comenud  Avhip  him  away 

8ome  morning  before  it  is  da}  light. 
While  you  ladies  do  single  remain, 

h)  a'tyrant  you'll  never  be  hurried  : 
If  1  was  but  single  again. 

Oh  I  by  jingo  I'd  never  be  married. 

Ryle  and  Co.,  Printers/.Moumouth-court 


Xh^esent  Vimes^ 

OR  SIGHT 

Printed,  by  Ryle  and  Co.,  2  &  3,  Monmouth 
Court,  Seven  Dials. 


COME  all  you  bold  Britons,  where'er  you  e 
I  pray  oive  attention  and  listen  to  me  ; 
There  once  was  good  times,  but  they're  gone   Ly 

complete. 
For  a  poor  man  lives  now  on  8  Shillings,  a  week. 

Such  times  in  old  England,  there  never  was  seen 
As  the  present  ones  now ;  but  much  better  have  been 
A  poor  man's  condemned  and  look'd  on  like  a  thief 
And  compelled  to  work  hard  for  ''Eight  Shillings 
a  week." 

Our  venerable  Father  remember  the  year, 
When  a  man  earned  3  shillings  a  day  and  his  beer 
He  then  could  live  well  keep  his  family  neat, 
But  now  he  must  work  for'Eight  Shillings  a  week" 

The  Nobs  of  "Old  England"  of  shameful  renown 
Are  striving  to  crush  a  poor  man  to  the  ground, 
They'll  beat  down  their    wages  and    starve   thenj 

complete. 
And  compel  them  to  work  hard   for  "Eight  Shil- 
lings a  week." 

A  poor  man  to  labour  .  (believe  me  'tis  so) 
To  maintain  his  family  is  willing  to  go ; 
Either  hedging  or  ditching,  to  plough  or  to   reap. 
But  how  does  he  live  on,  'Eight  shillings  a  week." 

In  the  reign  of  old  ^i^t'Vgo.  as  all  you  understand, 
Here  then  was  conteotment  throughout  the  whole 

land, 
Fach  poor  man  could  live  and  get  plenty  to    eat, 
But  now  he  must  pine  on  "Eight  shillings  a  week' 

So  nov^  to  conclude  and  finsh  my  song, 
May  tlie  "Times"  be  much  better  before  it  is  long 
May  everv  labourer  be  able  to  keep 
Uis  Children    and  Wife  on   "Twelve   Shilliugs  a 
Week,  i 


y6 


The  Merry  Bells 

OF    EBkGLiA^B. 


and  Co.,  Primers,  2  &  3,  Monmouth  Court, 
Seven  Dials,  ana  35,  Hanover  Stieet,  Portsea,  where  up- 
wards ol  6000  different  sorts  of  ballads  are  continually  on 
«le,  together  with  40  new  penny,  and  60  liew  hait-penuy 
sotjg-books. 


1"^HE  roerr   beils  of  Englano  how  I  like  to  hear  them  sound 
The  t^ladsome  chime  of  olden  time,  that  spreadeth  joy 
around ; 
Th«y  riojjf  rem  raoss-clad  steeples,  amid  the  cottage  Iniod 
And  senk?  their  so^nd«  of  revelry  ore  rour  happy  liod. 
They  sound  rom  stately  edifice,  from  mEny  an  old  church 

tower, 
-j'he  rich  and  poor  alike  can  feel  the  influence  of  their  power: 
yo  every  heart  their  tones  impart  from  memory's  dearest  spells, 
por  a  Briton's  native  music  is  old  England's  merry  bells. 

O    the  merry  bells  of  England,  their  chimes  ring  loud  and  free, 
To  hail  again,  of  land  or  main,  some  well-fought  victory  ; 
To  England's  brave,  in  honour's  grave,  their  music  seems 

to  say — 
•  The  mem'ry  of  your  glorious  deeds  shall  never  pass  away  ;' 
And  ort"  to  ring  the  village  bells  to  hail  each  wedding  pair, 
''hen  nuptial  vows  the  twain  have  bound  love's  heart  and 

home  lo  share 
here's  not  a  souud  can  e'er  rebound  in  which  such  music 
dwrlls, 
Britain's  native  music,  old  England's  merry  bells. 

>u  th   merry  bells  of  England — what  raptare  fills  the  se««ne 
\V'.«n  their  joyous  peals  the  day  reveals  the  birthday  of  our 

Queen, 
As  'aa.i  the  shout  their  tones  ring  out,  and  voices  clear  and 

j;ay 
Pro«l»ni  a  nation's  homage  on  Victoria's  i^atal  day. 
Ofa  m»y   ncf  out^nd  as  time  comes  round  to  fill  with  joj  the 

r 
On  i&iiny  a  happy  birthday  ol  old  England's  royal  fair 
There'   nought  a  people's  loyaltv  more  truly  clearly  tell 
T  ha«  a  Briten's  oativc  m««M;,  old  £aglao4'«  mexrjr  beiU. 


e\ 


LABXE 

BSJSTIiES. 


MARRIED  men,  draw  near  awbil« 
And  bucks  that  are  so  dashinj 
While  I  describe  all  I  know 
About  the  ladies  fashions. 
Large  bonnets  and  their  fuibelows, 

And  bustles,  too,  alas  ! 
The  ladies  they  have  come  to  wear, 
To  substitute  their  a — . 

riddle  de  ruin  de  bwoa. 

As  Tbddy  and  his  wife. 

Went  out  to  take  the  air, 
Says  Toddy  to  his  wife. 

What  is  it  you've  got  there 
That  every  one  looks  round 

As  you  and  I  do  pass  ? 
It's  very  strange  that  they 

teep  staring  at  your  a — . 

Tiddle,  «e. 

Why,  don't  you  know,  my  d«ar. 

That  ladies,  now-a-days, 
Shew  every  thing  so  clear 

Without  the  use  of  itavs  1 
I've  left  them  off,  said  »he. 

Like  every  dandy  lass, 
Aad  clapped  a  bustler  a. 

Just  to  shape  my  ,» 

Tiddle,  Ac. 

A  bustle  !  pray  wnat's  that? 

You  n«v*r  bustled  yet 
Except  th«  other  day 
Wben  in  g  drunkea  Gt 

tlrue,  to  shape  your  v 

A  nameless  tiling,  alas 
More  like  a  silly  ape, 
^  Thau  any  lady's  a— . 

Tiddle  Ac, 

Then  mind  my  sequel  nowf 

Misfortune  oft  will  come : 
The  bustle  got  loose  some  how 

And  fell  off  from  her  ^  - 

Just  at  that  very  time, 

An  uichioi  chanced  to  pass, 
Who  bawled  out  in  words  sublime , 

Here,  ma'am,  you've  dropped  joer 
Tidd*«>  »i> 

Then  Toddy  cursed,  and  twof 

He'd  never  go  out  agaiii. 
If  such  strange  things  she  wore, 

Unless  she  were  in  pain. 
The  ladies  laughed  and  grioned. 

Bat  hoped  ths  bint  would  pase. 
That  thoc  «ho  vesture  out, 

Woold  fatten  on  their  a—. 


I 

•If 


SHOULD  DEAELy  MKE  TO 

mABRY. 

I  SHOULD  dcarlv  like  to  marrj;. 
If  I  eoiild  only  see, 
Any  gay  young  lady. 

Suitable  tome. 
She  must  be  rich  ard  liandsome. 

Fairer  than  the  Queen, 
Lovely  and  good-natured, 
And  aged  seventeen. 

I  shouW  &c. 
She  must  rise  np  in  the  morning, 

Just  by  the  break  of  day, 
And  get  my  breakfast  ready, 

That  I  may  haste  away. 
To  frolic  with  the  ladies. 
She  mustn't  be  absurd. 
And  it  I  beat  her  with  the  poker. 
Why  she  mustn't  say  a  word. 

I  should,  vkv. 
And  »l  I  come  home  tipsy, 

And  cann't  hold  up  my  head. 
She  must  kiss  me  and  undress  noe. 

And  carry  me  to  bed. 
She  must  always  bp  good  tempered. 

But  never  on  me  frown  ; 
And  thank  me  very  kindly 

If  I  chance  to  knock  her  down, 

I  shoukl,  &c. 

When  I  come  home  to  dinner. 

The  dishes  must  be  aired, 
And  every  1  ttle  article 

Must  nicely  be  prepared. 
She  must  neatly  make  a  court'sy. 

When  T  enter  in  the  place  ; 
Black  my  shoes  and  trim  my  whiskers, 

And  nicely  wash  my  face. 

I  shocld,  &c. 

And  if  in  want  of  money, 

I  should  chance  to  be, 
She  must  run  away  contented, 

And  pawn  her  olothes  for  me. 
She  ruust  look  on  me  with  pleasure, 

And  never  with  disdain  ; 
And  if  that  I  should  break  her  back. 

She  must  not  dare  complain. 

I  should,  Jkc 

So  ladies  now  come  forward,       •  . 

A«  sprightly  as  you  can, 

thero  is  any  one  among  you. 

Can  suit  a  gay  young  man. 
Now  is  your  time  or  never, 

I  can  both  sing  and  dance, 
If  you  dont  be  quick,  and  huve  me. 

You  may  not  have  the  chance. 


THE  FAIRY. 

TEMPTER, 

and  Co.  Printers,  2,  &  3,  Mon- 
mouth Conn,  Seven  Dials,  and  at  35, 
Hanover  Street,  Portsea,  where  up- 
wards of  four  thousand  dfFerentsorts 
of  ballads  are  continually  on  sale,  to- 
gether with  40  new  penny  song  boolt» 

A  FAIR  girl  was  sitting  in  a  greenwood  shade, 
List'ning  to  the  music  the  spring  birds  made 
When  sweeter  by  far  than  the  birds  on  the  tree, 
A'  voice  murmured  near  her  *'  Oh  come,  love,  with 

me, 
la  earth  or  air  a  thing  so  fair.  I  have  not  leen  at 

thee 
Then  come  love,  come  love,  oh   come,  love,  wi 
me. 

With  a  star  for  thy  home,  in  the  palace  of  light. 
Thou  wilt  add  fresh  grace  to  the  beauty  of  night 
Gr,  if  wealth  be    by  wish,  thine  are  treasures  un 

told. 
I  will  shew  thee  the  tirth-place  of  jewels  and  gold 
And  pearly  caves  beneath  the  waves:  all  these,  a 

these,  art  thine. 
If  thou  wilt  U     ine,  love,  j>f:  thou  will  be  min*.'* 

Thus  whispered  a  fairy,  to  tempt  a  fair  girl. 
But  vain  was  his  promise  of  gold  and  of  pearl: 
For  she  said,  "Though  thy  gilts  to  a  poor  gir. 

dear, 
My  father,  my  mother,  my  sisters  are  here. 
Oh,  what  would  be  thy  gifts  to  i«» ,  of  earth 

sea,  and  air, 
Hmv  heait  w«re   not.thew — if  my  heart  were  n 

there 


«*«ri^  .H''-  f^i^'^^iisaisi'^i 


Wait  for  the Wagfg*on 

Rjle  and  Co.,  Printers,  Monmouth-couit  7  Dials 


VJi/^lJ-'L  >ou  come  with  me,  my  Philis  dear 
'^       To  yon  blue  mountains  free  ? 
Where  the  blossoms  smell  the  sweetest, 

Come,  rove  along^  with  me. 
It's  every  Sunday  morniDy-, 

When  I  am  your  by  your  side, 
.We'll  jump  into  the  wagj^on, 
And  all  take  a  ride 

Wait  for  the  waggon, 
Wait' "for  tli^  waggon, 
Wait  for  the  waggon, 
And  we'll  all  take  a  ride. 

Where  tne  rivor  runs  like  silver,    * 

And  the  birds  th^y  sing  so  sweet,] 
I  have  cabin  a  Phil  is, 

And  something  good  to  eat. 
Gome  listen  to  my  story. 

It  will  relieve  my  heart. 
So  jnmj)  into  the  waggon. 

And  off  we  will  start. 

Do  you  believe,  my  Phihs  dear, 

Old  ^  ike,  with  all  his  wealth, 
Can  make  you  half  so  happy, 

As  I,  with  youth  and  health ; 
We'll  have  a  little  farm — 

A  horse,  a  pig,  a  cow  ; 
And  you  will  mind  the  dairy. 

While  I  will  drive  the  plough. 

Your  lips  are  red  as  poppies, 

Your  hair  so  slick  and  neat. 
All  braided  up  with  dahlias. 

And  hollyhocks  so  neat. 
It's  every  Sunday  morning, 

When  I  am  by  your  side, 
We'll  jump  into  the  waggon. 

And  all  take  a  ride. 

Together,  on  life's  joMmey, 

We  will  travel  till  we  stop, 
And  i^  we  have  no  trouble. 

We'll  reach  the  happy  top. 
Then  come  with  me,  sweet  Piiilis, 

My  dear,  my  lovely  bride  ! 
We  will  jump  into  the  waggon, 

And  we'll  all  take  a  ride, 


Come  up  the  ITliddle 

Ryle  &   Co.,  Printers,  M.onmu'ath-rourt,  7  Dials. 

T  X  7HITE  folks  all  I've  just  come 

And  what  I  am  going;  to  sing  about, 
'Tis  the  girl  who  made  me  shout, 
The  Rose  of  Alabama. 
Sambo  up,  and  Dinah  dovvn, 
Sally  come  up  the  middle, 
Don'tyou  hear  the  banjo  sound, 
The  tamborine,  and  fiddle. 

Rosa  if  you'll  mArry  me. 
Then  how  happy  we  shall  be, 
Like  a  bird  upon  the  tree, 

Sally  come  up  the  middle. 

After  'reckly,  bye  and  bye. 
The  moon  shone  bright,and  so  says  1, 
I  like  the  the  girl  who  looks  so  sly, 
The  Rose  of  Alabama, 

I  landed  on  a  sandy  bank, 
And  sit  upon  a  hollow  plank, 
And  there  1  made  the  banjo  twank, 
To  the  Rose  of  Alabama. 

Now  my  song  is  nearly  done, 
I  hope  I've  pleased  you  every  one, 
And  I  leave  off  as  I  begun, 
To  the  Rose  of  Alabama. 


# 


S^''-vg<a>i^..   r^nanfMi  jaart?. 


JVOTHIJYG    MORE 

PRyleand  Co  ,  Priiiteii,  2  und  3,  Moi'mouth-court, 
\  Seven  DtfthsT', 

IN  a  valley  fair  I   wandered   o'er  it's 
meadow  pathways  green, 
Wlier*r  llie  rippling  brook  was  flowing  like 

the  spirit  of  the  scene, 
1  saw  a  lovely  maiden  with  a  basket  bri.a- 

ming  o'er — 
With  sweet  buds,  and  so  I  asked   her,  for 
a  kiss,  and  nothing  more. 

chatted  on  besi«le  her,  and  I  prais'd  lier 
liair  and  eyes, 

riul  like  roses  in  her  basket,  on  her  cheeks 
saw  blushes  rise  : 
VV  ith  timid  looks  down  glancing,  slie  said 

will  you  pass  before  ? 
Bnt,  said  I,  now  all  I  want,  is  just  a  smite, 
and  nothing  more ! 

So  she  sliyly  smiled  upon  me,  and  we  still 

ke[)t  wandering  on  ; 
\^  hat  with  siniling,blushing,chattinu;,soon 

a  brief  half  hour  was  gone  ; 
Then  she  told  me  I  must  leave  her,  for  she 

saw  the  cottage  door  ; 
Not  I,  until  I'd  rifled  just  a  kiss,  and  no- 
ft  thing  more. 

Thus  for  weeks  and  months  I  woo'd  her/and 

the  joys  that  then  have  birth, 
Made  an  atmosphere  of  gladness  seem 

encircling  all  the  earth  ; 
One  bright  morning  at  the  altar,  a  white 

bridal  dress  she  wore. 
Then  my  wife  1  proudly  called  her,  and 

asi:  tor  nothing  more. 


The  Indian  liass. 

Ry'e   &  Co.,  2  and  3,  Printers,  Monmouih  Court,  7  Dtih 

AS  1  \v»s  a  walking  on  a  t'ar  distant  shore, 
1  caird  At  an  ale-bouse  to  spend  half-an-hour 
As  I  sat  smoking,  beside  tne  a  glass, 
By  chance  there  came  in  a  >omig  Indian  lass. 

She  sat  down  beside  me  and  squetz'd  my  hand, 
She  said  you're  a  stranger,  not.  one  of  this  land, 
I  have  fine  lodgings,  if  with  m>:  you'll  stay, 
My  portion  you  shall  have  without  more  delay. 

With  a  glass  of  good  liquor  she  wtlcoai'd  me  in, 
Kind  sir,  you  are  welcome  to  have  anything  ; 
But  as  1  embraced  her  this  was  her  tune, 
You  are  a  poor  sailor  and  far  from  your  home. 

We  toss'd  and  '*'e  tumbled  in  each  others  arms. 
And  all  that  long  night  1  embraced  her  sweet  clmsms 
With  rural  enjoyment  the  lime  passM  away, 
I  did  not  go  to  leave  her  till  nine  the  next  day. 

■  This  lovely  young  Indian  on  the  place  where  she 
stood, 
I  view'd  her  swt-et  features  and  foii.id  they  were  good 
She  was  neat   tall,  and  hauJsome,  her  age  was  six- 
teen. 
She  was  bornand  brought  up  inaplace  near  Orleans 

The  day  was  appointed  he  was  ^  oing  away. 
All  on  the  v/ide  ocean  to  leave  her  to  stav. 
She  says  when  you  are  o'er  in  your  own  native  land 
Remember  the  Indian  that  squeez'd  your  hand. 

Early  next  morning  we  were  going  snil, 
This  lovely  joung  Indian  on  the    )each  did  luewail, 
I  took  off  my  handkerchief  and  wiped  her  eyes, 
Do  not  go  an.l  leave  me  my  sailor  she  cries. 

We  weighed  our  anchoi  away  then  we  flew, 
With  a  sweei  andpleasant  breeze,  and  parted  me 

from  ner  view, 
But  now  1  am  over  and  taking  my  gl^ss. 
So  here's  a  health  to  the  young  Indian  las*. 


i 


I 


Ryle  &  Co.,  Printers,  2  &  3,  Monmouth -court,  Bloomsbury. 

Tune. — Jpannette  and  Jeannol. 

FAREWELL  my  dearest  Henry,  «ince  you  to  sea  must  go. 
To  plougli  the  raging  ocean,  and  to  face  the  dariHg  ft«e. 
Oh,  think  of  your  poor  Mary  Ann,  vvhe:)  on<   (^areign  sliore. 
You  have  vow'd  that  there  is  none  but  me  you  hwer  can  adore. 
Then  take  this  pledge  of  love,  'tis  a  ring;  I  broke  in  two, 
One  half  then  I  will  keep  tnyself,  that  I  may  think  of  you, 
My  love  I'm  sure  it  cannot  change — be  falte  I  never  can — 
One  kiss  my  lt»ve  before  we  part,  be  true  to  Mary  Ann. 

From  childhood  we  hare  Isved,  but  since  it  must  be  so, 
That  you  have  chosen  a  sailor's  life,  mild  may  tlie  breezes  blow, 
And  waft  aiy  own  dear  Henry,  safe  back  to  England'*  shore, 
It  is  then  we  shall  be  married  love,  I  hope  to  part  no  more. 
Then  go,  my  jolly  sailor,  my  heart  still  beats  for  you, 
And  may  kind  fortune  spare  your  life  in  all  dangers  you  go  thro'. 
So  do  your  duty  manfully,  let  virtue  guide  your  hand. 
To  return  to  bless  your  faithful  girl,  your  own  dear  Mary  Asn. 
It  was  early  the  next  morning,  just  by  the  break  of  day, 
■  The  order  came  on  board  to  quick  sail  out  to  sea, 
The  boatswain  piped  all  bands  aloft,  my  lads  come  haste  away, 
The  anchor's -weighed,  the  gallant  ship  sailed  proudly  through  the 
There  to  foreign  lands,  faraway  from  home  they  steer,  [bay. 

Some  think  upon  their  sweethearts,  and  some  their  parents  dear. 
And  each  unto  his  pretty  girl,  they  t«ss  the  flowing  can. 
Hurrah,  my  boys,  young  Henry  cries,  here's  to  my  Mary  Ann. 

And  when  upon  the  oc«an,  when  seas  rose  mountain  high. 

Young  Henry  he  was  first  aloft,  all  dangers  did  defy. 

Respected  by  his  officers,  beloved  by  all  the  crew, 

A  smarter  sailor  never  stept,  or  wore  a  jacket  blue, 

It  was  his  happy  fortune,  his  captain  for  to  save. 

Upon  the  coast  of  Africa,  while  struggling  with  the  wave. 

He  threw  himself  into  the  sea  where  both  about  were  toss'd, 

The  boatit  came, one  moment  more,  his  life  would  have  been  lost. 

They  cruised  about  in  different  parts,  for  three  long  years  or  more. 
At  length  the  order  came  on  board,  to  sail  for  England's  shore. 
Unto  that  land  that  gave  them  birth,  with  all  they  held-  so  dear, 
The  perils  past,  the  ship  at  last  into  the  port  did  steer. 
The  ship  it  laid  in  harbour,  and  then  the  jolly  ercw. 
They  gave  three  cheers  at  parting,  each  other  bid  adieu, 
The  captain  gave  him  fifty  pounds  and  teok  him  by  the  hand, 
And  then  young  Henry  married  was  unto  his  Mary  Ann. 


THL  WELCH  MEN'S  ULEK, 

OR, 

ST.  DAVID'S  DAT>', 

PALE  Winter  with  thy  icy  face. 
We  bid  thee  now  farewell. 
For  manlike  March  has  taken  place, 

Wfth  us  short  time  to  dwell ; 
He's  brother  unto  April  shower*. 

And  ushers  in  sweet  May, 
And  in  his  cap  he  wears  a  leek, 

Upon  St,  David's  day. 
When  Julius  C,esar  with  his  force 

Did  first  invade  the  land 
The  Welchman  bold,  with  foot  and  hon«.'. 

Did  this  proud  foe  withstand. 
A  tribute  he  from  them  did"  seek 

Which  they  refused  to  pay, 
For  which  they  alv\ays  wear  a  leek, 

Upon, St.  David's  day. 
Tlien  afterwards  the  Saxons  cane 

W^ho  Essex  did  obtain. 
And  with  an" army  were  prepared. 

The  kingdom  for  to  gain. 
Each  town  and  city  went  to  rack, 
'While  Saxons'  bore  the  sway. 
At  length  the  Welchmen  drove  thdm  bftck. 

Upon  St.  David's  day 
The  next  to  them  the  Danes  come  in. 

That  proud  surprizing  foe. 
At  Winchester  they  did  begii , 

The  land  to  overthrow. 
Until  at  length  great  Alfred  came. 

Who  drove  them  quite  away, 
And  conquer'd  all  the  Danish  crew. 

Upon  St.  David's  day. 
When  crook'd  back'd  Richard  wore  the  erowa 

As  Regent  of  the  land. 
No  policy  could  pull  down, 

Or  this  proud  foe  withstand, 
THl  Henry  of  Richmond  entered  Waiet- 

Whom  Welchmen  did  obey, 
And  conquer'd  him  ia  Boswortn  Fiela, 

Upon  St.  David's  day. 
St.  James  he  is  the  Spaniard's  boast 

St.  Dennis  is  for  France, 
8t.  Patrick  in  the  Western  coast, 

The  Irishmen  advance : 
George  bears  the  sword,  David  the  seaHi 

And  Justice  bears  the  sway, 
Old  England  drinks  a  health  to  Wal^a. 

Upon  St.  David's  day. 
The  W^elchmen  they  were  always  tn# 

Thsy  have  full  intent. 
To  give  their  King  and  Pnnce  their  d» 

And  love  their  p»'fcsident, 
And  to  maintain  their  ancient  fame. 

Which  never  will  decay. 
Love's  blessing  H'rht  upoi)  his  aaai* 
Who  kespfcS-,  JDa^id'a  <J«-r 


Ben  Cable. 


A.Ryleana  Co..  Printers.  2  and  ,?.  Monmouth  Court,  Se^pn 
Dials,  and  S5,  Hanorer  Sfrprt.  Portsea,  whce  upwards 
of  4000  different  sort'  of  ballads  arp  oontinuallv  on  sale, 
together  with  40  noxr  penny  con?  books. 

ONE  night,  ('two,  at  sea,  in  the  midst  of  a  storna,) 
On  board  a  three-decker,  Ben  Cable  was  born  ; 
In  hi»  cradle,  the  ?hip,  which  was  rock'd  by  the  deep, 
The  bleak  wListling  wind  often  lull'd  Lira  to  sleep. 

When  christened,  they  dropp'd  the  boy  in  the  salt  flood, 
And  the  captain  himself  for  bis  godfather  stood: 
rrora  bis  infancy  thus  little  Ben  was  inur'd 
'Jo  tempests  and  storms,  which  he  bravely  endur'd. 

On  hoard  from  his  youib,  till  to  manhood  hp  ?rew, 
Ben  still  was  the  pride  and  delieht  of  the  crew 
Pver  forpmost  was  he  at  hHm'iBity's  call : 
No  Han<{er  could  ever  his  cotirage  appal. 

I-f  a  friend  or  a  fo«  in  distress  should  be  niah, 

Thouph  the  white  foaminsr  billows  then  ran  mountains  high, 

Twas  nothino;  to  Ben.  if  his  efforts  could  save 

One  unfortunate  wretch  from  a  watery  ^rave. 

1n  raatiy  a  battle,  where  cannons  have  roar'd. 
And  heroes  have  fall'n  wbo«  their  country  ador'd  ; 
Where  danger  was  grpateot. tbece  Ben  vou  must  find: 
To  old  England  his  life  he'd  bave  freely  resign'd. 

His  dufj'  none  better  thaa  Ben  ever  kn«w, 
And  be  t'oug^bt  as  a  trup  British  seaman  shsuld  dor 
Brit,  the  fijrht  beinsr  done,  o'er  his  grojf  he'd  be  seen, 
'^r/ikiny     Englaadfor  ever:  long  life  to  the  Queen: 


Tell  Me,  Mary, 
HOW  TO  WOO  THEE ! 


TELL  lup,  Mary,  how  to  woo  thee 

Teach  my  bosom  to  revral 

All  its  sorrows,  sweet,  unto  thee — 
All  ibe  love  my  h.  art  i  an  leel. 

Tell  me,  j<cc. 

^^J  when  joy  first  bri<.'htened  o'tr  us, 
Tvras  not  joy  ilinmetl  her  rav  : 

And  when  sorrow  lie*  before  us, 
Twill  not  chase  her  smiles  awav. 
Tell  me,  jtc. 

Like  the  tree  no  winds  c«n  sever 
From  the  ivy  round  it  cast ; 

ThHS  the  heart  that  lov'd  thee  ever, 
Lores  thee,  Alary,  to  the  last. 

Tell  me,  kc. 


Why  did  I  L.ove 


SUNG     BY    MADAME    VI,t .  Ris. 

WHY  did  I  love  ^  wiiy,  why  did  I 
But  *tis  past,  *tis  past  for  ever  ; 
Vainly  shall  man  endeavour,' 

Henceforth  my  heart  to  move. 

I,  who  langh'd  at  its  chain, 
Have  worn  it,  I  vow. 
But  'tis  broken,  and  now 
aug:h  it  to  scorn  again. 

Why  did  I  lovel 

Free,  free  as  the  wind, 
That  courses  the  roe, 
No  fear  shall  bind 
My  heart  or  mind, 
And   Cupid  shall  find 
That  PIl  only  be  blind, 
lu  future  his  charms  unto. 


love* 


COI.Z.IER 

-  -  ■"*— 

Printers,  2  &  3,  MonmouthCourt,  7Dials' 

/%  S   I  walked  forth  one  summer's  mora,  all  io  the 
■^^         month  of  June — 

■^tie  flowers  they  were  springing,  and  the  birds  were  in 
full  tune — 
overheard  a  lovely  maid,  and  this  wais  all  her  theme : — • 
'  Success  attend  the  collier  lads,  for  they  are  lads  ol 
fame." 

itepped  up  to  her,  and,  bending  on  my  knee, 
asked  her  pardon  for  making  with  her  so  free  : 
My  pardon  is  granted,  youngs  collier,"  she  repVies  { 

y  do  you  belong  to  the  b^ave  Union  boys. 

Vou  may  see  I'na  a  collier  as  black  as  a  aloe ;  i 
And  all  the  night  lone;  I  am  working  down  bekow; 
Jh  I  do  love  a  collier  as  I  do  lore  my  life — 
dly  father  was  a  pitman  all  the  days  of  his  life. 

Come  now,  my  young  collier,  and  rest  here  awhile. 
And  when  1  have  done  milking,  I'll  give  you  a  smile. 
He  kissed  her  sweet  lips  whde  milking  her  cow  ; 
A.nd  the  lambs  they  were  sporting  all  in  the  morning 
4«w, 

Come  all  you  noble  gentlemen,  wherever  you  may  be, 
Do  not  pull  down  their  wages, nor  break  their  unity; 
You  see  they  hold  like  brothers,  like  sailors  on  th«  sea, 
They   <lo  their  best  endeavours  for  their  wives  and 
lamily. 

Ther>  site  clapt  her  arms  around  him  like  Venus  round 

the  vine  ; 
You  are  my  jolly  collier  lad  :  you've  won  thia  heart  of 

mine ; 
A.nd  if  that  you  do  win  the  day,  as  you  hare  won  my 

heart, 

rown  you  with  honour, and  for  erer  take  your  part, 

fhe  colliers  are  he  best  of  boys,  their  work  lies  under 

ground, 
ind  when  they  to  the  alehouse  go  they  raluc  not 

crown ; 
1  hey  spend  their  money  freely  and  pay  before  they  go; 
1  hey  work  uuder  ground  while  the  stormy  winds  d« 

Wlow. 
e  come  all  you  pretty  m»ideai  wherever  yt>a  D>8y  09 
A  «tn>ier  ha  do  not  despise  in  any  degree 
Vor  if  ha  too  do  nve  (heal  well  they'll  do  the  same  to 

thee 
I'laeri  is  notbing  in  ihh  world  HIk^  a  pit  boj  for  me. 


DA^TNING 

of  the 

DAY. 


I 


As  1  walked  out  one  morning  fair,  al    in  the^  summer-Bia 
F.»ih  bush  and  tree  was  dressed  in  green,  and  valleys' 
their  prime; 
Returning  hoaie  from  a  wake,  thro*  the  6eld»  I  took  my  way, 
And  there   I  met  a  comely  maid,  by  the  dawning  of  the  day. 
Mo  shoes  or  stockings,  c»p  or  cloak,  this  comely  maid  did  wear 
Her  hair,  Uke  shining  silver  twist,  hung  o'er  her  shoulders  bare 
With  milking  pail  within  her  hand,  so  noble  and  so  gay; 
And  she  appeared  like  Venus  bright,  at  the  dawning  of  the  day 
Her  cheeks  were  like  a  ro<ie  in  bloom  ;  her  skin  like  liliea,  fiir 
Her  breath  like  lavender  perfumes,  that  scents  the  balmy  air: 
She  did  appear  like  Helen,  fair,  or  Flora,  queen  of  May: 
This  angel  bright  did  me  delight,  at  the  dawning  of  the  day. 
Said  I,  sweet,  lovely  female,  where  are  you  for  so  iooii  t 
I'm  going  a-milking,  sir,  she  said,  all  in  the  month  of  June, 
The  pasture  where  thai  1  must  go,  it  is  so  far  away, 
1  must  be  there  each  morning  clear,  by  the  dawning  of  the  day* 
You've  time  enough,  my  dear,  said  he,  suppose  it  was  a  mila 
So  on  'his  velvet  primrose  bask,  let's  sit  and  ehat  awhile: 
O,  sir,  she  said,  my  hurry  will  admit  of  no  delay, 
Lood  round,  the  morning  breaks,  'tis  the  daivuing  of  the  dav. 
As  tlius  she  spoke,  my  arms  entwined  about  her  lovely  waist, 
1  set  her  on  a  primrose  bank,  and  there  did  her  embraeo*. 
Leave  off  your  freedom,  sir,  and  let  me  go  my  way  ;      • 
The  time  is  come— 1  cann't  delay,  it  's  the  dawning  of  theda 
But  when  the  lovely  damsel  came  to  herself  again, 
With  heavy  sighs  and  downcast  eyes,  she  sorely  did  complain: 
Youug  man,  she  said,  I'm  much  afraid  that  you  did  me  betniy; 
My  virgin  bloom  you've  got  too  s«(<n,  by  the  dawuihe  d 

I  kissed  my  love  ai  parting,  and  then  crossed  o'er  the  plai»| 
And  in  the  course  of  seven  months  we  there  aid  meet  agaia 
She  seemed  to  be  dropsical  as  she  whlked  o'er  the  lea; 
And  carelessly  1  paosed  by  her  at  the  noontide  of  the  day. 
The  tears  ran  down  her  rosy  cheeks,  and  bitterly  she  cried, 
And  said,  young  man,  I  think  it's  time  that  i  was  n}ade  your  btM* 
I  pray  make  good  the  damage  done,  as  you  before  did  lay, 
And  don't  forget  the  time  we  met  by  the  dawning  of  th« 

I      id,  fair  lovely  damsel    I  hope  you'll  me  excuse 

To  join  with  you  in  wedlock's  bands  indeed  I  mnst  reftiM; 

For  1  lately  have  been  married  to  a  maid  ^i     Jn.fr  Ba-»  ell 

With  whom  I  get  three  hundred  pt<in4  iy  t!»9  *  i  r  ija^  of  tba     t 

This  sudden  blunt  refusal  with  her  did  not  a<rre« 

She  said,  you'll  g»in  no  credit  sir,  by  thus  deladiag  n« 

And  this  mav  be  warning  le  other  nsaidenF  ga«, 

Not  to  be  deltided  at  the  dawning  ui  Itedfif 


r,t:  (:;arepul  in 
CHOOSING  A  WIFE. 

Pitts,  Printer,  wholesale  Top  and  Marble  nuirthcuie^ 
6,  (yt.  St.  Andrews  Street,  Seven  Dutls- 

IVT^^^"^  ^^1  voiingr  nrieii  that's  ^roing-  to  wtHl. 
i.^    Don't,  be  catch'd  like  a  bird  with  a  small  bit 

of  bread. 
For  when  you  are  catch'd  remember  for  life, 
l'<i  liavejou  be  careful  in  choosing-  a  wife. 
Foj  women's  deceitful,  and  so  very  unkind, 
'Twould  puzzle  a  lawyer  to  know  their  own  mind. 
And  when  you  have  done  the  best  that  you  can. 
The  silliest  woman  will  outwit  a  man. 

Fol  de  rol  lol. 

For  when  you  are  wed,  and  a  squaller  is  born, 
A  man  may  then  work  his  poor  fingers  to  the  bone, 
There's  the  midwife  and  nurse,  and  eTDssopiui^' 
crew,  Tthroug-h, 

It  IS   more  than  a  poor  man  can   puU   himsel/ 
m  the  morning-  he  finds  he's  quite  wet  at  the  hip, 
His  clothes  are  quite  wet,  and  his  shirt  is  bes-  -t, 
So  this  is  the  comfort  of  a  married  life, 
I  wish  in  my  heart  1  had  never  a  wife. 

In  the  morning- 1  g^o  to  my  breakfast  at  eigrht, 
But  the  devil  a  spark  of  fire  is  in  tb€  grate. 
My  wife  she  lays  snoring  like  a  pii^  in  a  stye. 
But  there's  never  a  bit  of  breakfast  fori. 
If  I  ask  her  to  rise,  O  she  flies  in  a  pet, 
And  bawls  out  beg-one,  for  it's  time  enough  yet, 
Get  thy  breakfast  thyself,  and  \)e  off  to  thy  work, 
And  do  not  not  stay  here  for  to  idle  and  lurk. 

The  dinner-time  comes  to  my  home  I  repair, 
'Tis  a  thousand  to  one  if  my  wife  I  find  there, 
She's  gadding-  about  with  the  child  on  her  knee. 
And  the  devil  a  sign  of  a  dinner  for  me: 

0  con  id  1  but  once  more  be  single  again, 
T!'t>  finest  of  women  should  ne'er  me  trepan. 
And  ,-,0  I'd  remain  all  the  days  of  my  life, 
Grra;.  Iqck  to  the  man  that  has  got  such  a  wife. 

At  night  when  I  come  sadly  tir'd  from  my  work, 
vVhen  1  open  the  door  she  let's  fly  like  a  Turk, 
Take  that  young  squalling   brat,  and  get  it  to 

sleep, 
^or  all  the  day  long  no  peace  ran  I  keep. 
And  if  I  should  offer  the  job  to  refuse, 
Vi' ;th  the  longs  or  the  poker  she  would  me  abuse. 
And  this  is  the  comfort  attending  our  I&m, 
,  w:*fl  that  tiie^Kvil  had  all  such  wives. 


SANDY  A? 


Pitls,   Printer,  tvhohiale   Toy,  and  Marble  uarehoust^ 
6,  Gt-  St.  Andrews  Street,  Sevan  DiaiS. 

(■^OME  come  bonny  lassie  cried  Sandy  away, 
y  While  mither  is  spinning-  and  fathei-s  awav. 
Ihe  folks  are  at  work  and  the  birds  are  at  piay. 
And  we  will  be  married  dear  Jenny  to  day, 

And  we  will,  kc. 

Stay  stay  bonny  laddie  1  answered  with  speed, 

winna  I  munna  go  with  you  indeed. 
Besides  should  I  do  so  wliat  would  the  folks  sa\  , 
O  we  canna  marry  dear  Sacdy  to  day. 

List  list  cried  the  laddie,  and  mind  what  you  do, 
Faith  Peggy  and  Patty  I  give  up  for  you. 
Besides  a  full  twelvemonth  we've  trifled  away. 
And  one  or  the  other  I'll  marry  today. 

Fie  fie  botiny  laddie  return'd  I  again, 

When  Peggy  you  kissed  t'other  day  on  tha  olaiti. 

Besides  a  new  ribbon  doth  Patty  di^ulav. 

So  we  canna  be  married  dear  Sandy  to  day. 

Then  then  a  good  bye  bonnic  lassie  said  he 
For  Peggy  and  Patty  are  waiting  for  me. 
'I'he  kirk  i.>b  hard  by  and  the  bells  call  away. 
And  Peggy  or  Patty  I'll  nuirry  to  day, 

Stop  stop,  bonny  laddie,  si^id  she  with  a  smii© 
Lei  you  know  i  wasjoKing  niUo^a  ai)  tbe  wuiie. 

For  Peg'gy  go  spin  and  send  Patty  away 
And  we  will  be  married  dtai  S.wuiy  lo  Jay, 


KATE  KEARNEY. 


i\  Did  you  not  hear  of  Kate  Kearny, 

She  lives  on  the  banks  of  Killarney 
From  the  glance  of  her  eye  shun  danger 

and  fly, 
For  fatal's  the  glance  of  Kate  Kearney  ; 
For  that  eye  is  so  modestly  beaming, 
You'd     ne'er     think   of    mischief    she's 

dreaming, 
Yet  Oh  I  can  tell  how  fatal's  tlie  spell, 
'I'iiat  lurks  in  the  eye  of  Kate  Kearney. 
Oh  should  you  e'er  meet  this  Kate  Kearney 
Who  lives  on  the  Banks  of  Killarney, 
Beware  of  her  s-mile  for  many  a  wile. 
Lies  hid  in  the  smile  of  Kate  Kearney  ; 
Though  she  looks  sobewitchingly  simple, 
There's  mischief  in  every  dimjjje,    Cgale, 
And  who  dare  inhale  her  mouth's   spicy 
IMust  die  by  the  breath  of  Kate  Kearney. 

ANSWER. 
^^  \es  r  have  seen  this  Kate  Kearney, 
Who  lives  near  the  lake  of  Killarney 
From  her  love  beaming  eye   what   mor- 
tal can  fly,  [ney  ; 
Unsubdued  by  the  glance  of  Kate  Kpar- 
For  that  eye  so  bewitcliingiy  beaming, 
Assures  me  of  misehief  she's  dreaming, 
Aiid  I  leel  'tis  in   vain   to  fly  from    ihe 

chain, 
Tiiat  binds  me  to  lovely  Kate  Kearney. 
At  eve  when  I've  met  this  Kate  Kearney 
On  the  flower  mantled  banks  of  Killarney 
Her  smile  vvould  impart  thrilling  joy  to 

my  heart, 
As  Igaz'don  the  charming  Kate  Kearney; 
On  the  banks  of  Killarney  reclining, 
My  bosom  to  rapture  resigning, 
I've  felt  the  keen  smart  of  love's  fatal  dart, 
Ad  iithal'd   the    ^arm    sigh  of  Kate 
l^earney. 


BOYN  WATER 

TULY  the  first  at  old  Rrido-e  f-wn, 
There  happen'd  a  r;lorir>ns  baft'e. 
Whore  many  a  man  lay  on  the  STOiind, 

By  the  cannons  tfrat  did  rallie  ; 
King-  James  he  pitch'd  tils  (ents  between, 

The  lines  for  to  retiro, 
But  William  threw  in  his  red  shot. 

And  .«et  them  all  on  fire. 
Thereat    the  enemv  vow'd  revev^ge, 

Ag-ainst  king-  W'iliiam's  forcf  s, 
And  oft  did  cry  most  veh(;ment'y, 

That  they  would  stop  their  courses  ; 
A  l)ullet  from  the  Irish  came, 

Which  graz'd  kin»-  William's  shoulder, 
They  thot!0"ht  his  Majesty  had  been  slain, 

But  it  did  make  him  still  the  bolder. 
Duke  Schomberg- with  friendly  care, 

The  king- did  caution. 
To  shun  the  spot  where  bullets  hot, 

Retain  their  rapid  motion  ; 
But  William  said,  he  don't  deserve. 

The  name  of  faith's  deft-ndi-r. 
That  will  not  venture  life  and  limbs, 

To  make  a  free  surrender. 
The  horse  they  were  to  march  o'er  first. 

And  the  foot  to  follow  af;er, 
But  the  "ood  duke  Schomberg-  vvas  no  more 

By  venturiniT  over  the  waier  ; 
i.et  not  my  soldiers  be  dismayed. 

For  the  loss  of  one  commander, 
For  God  will  be  your  kin^  this  day, 

And  I  a  general  under. 
The  cunning:  Frenchmen  near  Dundalk 

Had  taken  up  their  quarters. 
And  feuc'd  ihemitlve^  on  every  side. 

Waiting:  for  their  new  orde.s, 
Bui  in  the  mid  time  oi   the  nij^iit, 

They  set  their  lield.-  on  tire, 
Afid  before  the  morning  Jight, 

To  Dublin  did  retire, 
i'lie  proleslauts  of  Drogheda, 

Have  reason  to  be  thankful, 
For  when  they  were  prisoners  bound. 

They  were  but  scarce  a  handful  ; 
First  to  Tholsel  they  were  broug:ht. 

And  next  to  Mil-mote  after. 
But  good  King  William  set  them  free- 
By  venturing  over  the  water. 
But  let  us  all  kneel  down  and  pray. 

Now  and  for  ever  after. 
And  never  more  forget  the  day. 

King  Willianrj  cross'd  Bojn  Water. 


T.xUt,  Printer^  whpJrsah  Toy  and  Murble  wit^ltnati 
6,  Great  St.  Andreiv'e  StreH,  Sei'en  lHat$, 


m 


TH 


UEEIN. 


GOD  BLESS  HER. 


Now  fill  fill  your  glasses  « itli  rich  sparkling  wine, 

I've  a  toast  you  must  drink  from  your  soul ; 
But  accursed  be  the   niggard  who   dares  to  de- 
cline. 
May  he  ne'er  know  the  joys  of  tlie  bowl ! 
'Tis  a  woman   I'd  pledge,  and  the    star  of  her 
race. 
May  every  sweet  pleasure  possess  her ; 
Thendrink,whilede!ight  shall  beam  forth  ineach 
face, 
Here's  a  health  to  our  queen,  God  bless  her. 


Good  monarch's  we've  had-^whom  we  think  on 

with  pride.  t 

Who  wisely  e'er  filled  theix  high  station. 
But  now  we've  a  woman,  Heaveii    bless   her — 
beside 
She's  a  child  of  o,ur  noble  nation  ; 
Victoria  the  first  is  of  virtue  the  gem  ; 
May  sorrow^  ne'er  seek  to  oppress  her  ! 
Then  fill,  fill  your  goblets    once   more  to  the 
brim. 
Long  life  to  the  Queen — God  bless  her! 


THE  BLOOMING  ROSE  OF  BRITAIN'S 
ISLE. 

Ymi  pretty  maidens,  pmy  p;-ive  attention, 

Unto  my  ditty,  pray  list  awhile  ; 
I  will  inform  yon  of  a  lovely  damsel. 

The  bloominp^  Rose  of  fair  Britain's  LslCi 

Slie  was  the  danpfhter  of  a  Wealthy  merchant, 
And  fortnne  on  her  did  seem  to  smile^ 

No  lass  in  Europe  there  scarce  could  equal 
The  blooming-  Rose  of  jfiiir  Britain's  Isle. 

A  rich  younp^  squire  hef  mind  did  fire. 
His  tales  of  loVe  he  listened  to  awhile. 

While  he  to  ruin  was  all  schemes  contriving, 
The  blooming-  Rose  of  fair  Britain's  Isle. 

To  his  tales  she  did  With  att<?ntion  listen. 
While  he  deceiving  her  W-as  all  the  while, 

His  ways  and  manners  in  the  mind  did  glisten, 
Of  the  blooming-  Rose  of  fair  Britain's   Isle. 

And  when  the  villain  had  gain'd  her  affections 
In  wickedness  he  did  often  smilc^ 

He  soon  decoyed  from  her  tender  parents. 
The  blooming  Rose  of  fair  Britain's  Isle. 

When  scare  sixteen,  full  of  youth  atid  beauty, 

From  her  parents  she  travelled  many  a  mile, 
While  her  tender    parents  were  in   grief  la- 
menting, 

For  the  blooming  Rose  of  fair  Britain's  Isle. 
When  scarce  six  months  with  her  vile  seducer, 

She  had  resided,  he  turned  each  smile 
On  another  fair  one,  and  soon  discarded, 

The  blooming  Rose  of  fair  Britain^s  Isle* 

Bereft  of  home  in  a  foreign  countty, 

In  grief  she  wandered  o'er  many  a  mile. 

Crying,  "  tender  parents  how  did  I  deceive  you!" 
The  blooming  Rose  of  fair  Britain's  Isle. 

While  snow  was  falling  on  a  drcaiy  moun- 
tain, (wild, 

And  the  roaring  winds  they  did  whistle 
Into  the  world  brought  a  lovely  offspring, 

Did  the  blooming  Rose  of  fair  Britain's  Isle. 

In  pain  and  anguish  awhile  she  suffered, 
And  frantic  gazed  on  her  lovely  child. 

At  length  grim  Death  came  and  seized  the  in- 
fant, 
And  the  blooming  rose  of  fair  Britain's  Isle. 

You  pretty  maidens  pray  take  a  warning, 

Shun  a  seducer's  deceitful  smile. 
For  if  you  give  way  they  will  soon  deceive  you. 

Like  the  blooming  Rose  of  fair  Britain's  Isle 


Pitts,  Printer  and  Toy  Warehouse,  6,  Great 
St.  Andrew  Street,  Seven.  Dials, 


m 


^x 


/<f 


WILLIAM  OF  THE 


fUt^  frinUr,  Whektala  Toy  and  MarbU  iVarehouse,  Orait  ^t.  ^mb«MN' 
Street,  Seven  DiaUi 


NBAR  Clyde*s  gay  stream  there  a  maid. 

Whose  mind  was  chaste  and  poor, 
Content  she  lived  an  humble  life. 

Beloved  by  all  who  knew  her. 
Protected  'neath  a  parent's  ro9fj 

Her  time  passed  on  so  merry ; 
She  loved  and  was  beloved  again 

By  William  of  the  Ferry. 

From  morning  rise  to  set  of  sun, 

Would  William  labour  hard. 
And  hail  the  evening's  glad  return^ 

How  sweet  was  his  reward ; 
With  heart  so  light  unto  my  cot* 

He'd  trip  so  blithe  and  merry; 
All  daily  toil  were  soon  forgot. 

By  William  of  the  Ferry. 

With  joy  their  parents  gave  consent. 

And  fixed  the  bridal  day ; 
Ere  it  arrived  a  pressgang  came. 

And  press'd  poor  Will  away ; 
Ho  found  resistance  was  in  vain, 

They  dragged  him  from  his  Avherry, 
I  ne'er  shall  see  my  love  again. 

Cried  William  of  the  Ferry. 

Loud  blew  the  angry  wave  around, 

M^en  scarce  a  league  from  shore. 
The  boat  upset  the  ruffian  crew 

Never  to  rise  no  more ; 
Will  fearless  braved  the  angry  waves. 

In  safety  of  his  wherry ; 
Peace  was  proclaimed  and  Jai>e  now  b  68t» 

V^Hk  William  of  the  Ferry. 


FRIBNBIaY    GARXiAMll. 


MY  FRIEND  AND  PITCHED 

The  wealthy  fool,  with  gold  in  stor©, 
Wai  stiK  desire  to  grow  richer. 

Give  me  but  health  I  ask  no  more, 
Than  my  sweet  girl,  my  friend  and 
pitcher. 

CHORUS. 

My  friend  so  rare,  my  ^irl  go  f^{j 

With  such  what  mortal  can  be  richer, 
Give  me  but  these,  a  fig  for  care. 

With  my  sweet  girl,  my  friend  and 
pitcher. 
From  morning  sun  I'd  never  grieve, 

To  toil  a  hedger  and  ditcher. 
If  that  when  I  came  at  eve, 

I  might  enjoy  my  friend  and  pitchy. 
Tho'  fortune  ever  shuns  my  door, 

I  can't  think  what  can  thus  bewitch 
her. 
With  all  my  heart  can  I  be  poor, 

With  my  sweet  girl,  my  friend  and 
pitcher. 

THE  DUSTMAN'S  BROTHER. 

My  moralizing  muse  attunes. 

Mankind  von  in  their  cradles. 
That  some  are  born  to  wooden  spoons, 

And  some  to  silver  Indies. 
A  nobby  fortin'  I  have  made, 

And  rides  vene'er  I  chooses, 
Besides  1  drives  a  roarin„''  trade. 

Through  'polio  and  the  muses. 
I  boast  an  ancient  pedigree, 

And  yarn  a  tidy  crust  can, 
Apollo  Bell  they  christened  me, 

I'm  brother  to  the  dustman. 
In  early  life  I  always  seemed. 

To  feel  an  hincliiiatiun, 
To  rise  above  tiie  common  class. 

Of  mortals  in  my  station. 
At  Sunday  school,  I  could  the  boys 

All  round  my  finger  twist  'em. 
For  readin— and  I  larn'd  to  write, 

By  the  Lanky-steerin  system. 

i  boast,  &c 
J  wish'd  a  climbing  boy  to  be, 

And  rising  by  progression, 
J  swept  through  all,  and  soon  did  see. 

The  top  of  my  profession  ; 
i.iul  for  a  sweep  I  got  too  fat, 

Too  boney  and  too  bargy. 


I  found  I  shouldn't  eoot  for  that, 
And  so  I  sack'd  the  clargy. 

I  boast,  &0. 
BTif  Innrin''  is  a  dangerous  thing, 
^  Lord  Byron  he  determines, 
I've  read  Joe  Miller's  Iliad, 

And  Mister  Shakspeare's  sarmons. 
The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  done  by  Bojj, 

And  Bunyan's  Jest  Book  handy, 
Sterne's  work  on  Shipping,  Coke  oo  gna 
And  Milton's  Tristram  Shandy, 

I  boast  dsoi 
In  mnsic  I  made  rapid  strides. 

For  being  a  steady  goer. 
In  parish  Church  I  got  a  birth, 

To  hact  as  horgan  blower ; 
And  of  a  veek  day  used  to  try. 

The  tipperv  to  bring  in. 
And  Flander  a  brick  and  hearth  stone 
cry. 
And  nightly  ven't  oat  singing. 

I  boast,  fiio. 
My  vifo  has  got  a  charming  woice> 

For  sprats  and  vatercreeses. 
And  of  a  morning  vorks  from  (^oice^ 

At  noon  her  labour  oeafles. 
And  then  she  flares  up  in  our  shay^ 

Vith  H  tiger,  fierce  as  any — 
And  I  goes  bawling  all  the  day, 

"  Here's  songs,  throe  yards  a  penny  f 
I  boast,  &o. 
Here's  '  EUen  111  love  thee  ao  more,' 

I  through  the  stret^ts  am  hooting 
Likewise  '  The  death  of  General  Mo<h« 


*  Through  going  out  a  shooting  I' 
brings  'em  round  me  quick  as  tnc 
And  sells  a  precious  many. 


'  Oh.  say  not  woman's  heart  is  booght* 

At  just  three  yards  a  penny. 

I  l>ofiet,  &0. 
I  used  to  hear  the  young'uns  cfaaua(» 

At  ould  Vestminster  Abby, 
And  so  I  'quired  it  wery  soon, 

Tho'  I  was  but  a  baby  ; 
Besides  my  mother,  (by-the-byiQ^ 

A  clever  fortin  teller,) 
By  her  enchantments  found  oot  1 

Vos  meant  for  a  chant  seller. 

Iboast,&iv 
I've  got  a  son,  a  clever  lad. 

At  musie  quite  a  gorgoa. 


He  blowa  the  drum  by  wbj  o(  faif. 

And  plays  tho  barrel  organ  ; 
But  laming  the  young  wiper  hatesj 

And  oft  his  head  I  towels, 
'Cause  he  exhasperates  tlie  H. 

And  \"oat  pronounce  the  wowala. 

I  boast,  Sni. 
When  other  tradesmen  am't  awala, 

I  mounts  my  smdls  and  jockevs. 
And  sometimes  does  my  elbow  shaken 

Ven  I  drops  in  at  Crockey'a  ; 
How  I've  become  so  gre^it  a  e*j«il, 

I  hates  all  useless  banter, 
Nq  conjurer  it  needs  to  tell, 

Vy  1  m  a  street  end  Chanter. 

I  boast^  Ae. 
And  ven  I  die  and  goes  to  dust, 

(I'm  grave,  although  I  c-an't  cry  ; 
My  head  will  make  a  liandsome  bust, 

If  cut  by  master  Chanterv ; 
Or  of  me  statue  should  tliey  raiae. 

The  sculpture  wery  cle:ir  be. 
Will  sure  select  to  speiik  my  psaise. 

The  Apollo  Bell-vi-de-re. 
I  boast  an  ancient  pedigree. 

And  yarn  a  tidy  crust  can  ; 

Apollo  Bell  they  chrisjtencd  me, 

I'm  brother  to  the  dustwaa. 

LOST  ROSABE;^ 

The^  have  given  tliee  to  another. 

They  have  broken  ev'ry  row  ; 
They  have  given  tliee  to  another. 

And  my  heart  is  lonely  nuvr  I 
Thev  remember  not  our  partliig:, 

Tney  remember  not  our  tears  f 
TTiey  have  sever'd  in  one  fatal  boat 

The  tenderness  of  years  ! 

0  was  it  well  to  leave  me .'' 
Thou  couldst  not  so  deceive  n>e  ! 
Long  end  soreJy  I  shall  grieve  Ihse, 

Lost,  lost  Rosabel ! 
Tbev  have  given  thee  to  anotl>er. 

Thou  art  now  his  gentle  bride  ! 
Had  1  lov'd  thee  as  a  brotlier, 

I  could  see  thee  by  Iiis  side- 

1  know  with  gold  they've  won  thae^, 
And  thy  tru»ting  heart  beguii'd  ; 

Thy  mother,  too,  dotii  slsun  me. 
For  she  knew  I  lov'd  her  ehilc>» 

0  was  it  well  to  sever 
Two  fond  hearta  for  ever  ? 

1  can  only  answer^JVwe*-  / 

Lost,  lost  Rosabel ! 
They  have  given  her  to  anotUi!', 

She  will  love  him,  too,  theyaq^ 
If  her  mera'ry  do  not  chide  her, 

O,  perhaps,  perhapg,  she  m«y. 
But  I  know  that  she  hath  spoken 

What  she  never  can  forget : 
And  though  my  heart  be  brolien. 

It  wiU  love  her,  love  bar,  yat^ 
O  'twas  not  well  to  sever. 
Two  fond  hearts  for  ever  ! 
More  I  shall  see  her  never  1 
Lost,  lost  Rosabel ! 


PHtt,  Printer  and  Toy  WartAovst^e^^ir^ 
8t  Andrew  Sireet,  8«9en  Hiab, 


(•2 


HnzsKa! 


for  the 

liassesk- 


Blooming 


Cesae  ye  ladies  fair  and  pretty 
,  Fay  attention  to  my  ditty, 
Coneerning  .of  the  lasses  witty, 

Cheeks  like  bloomiag  roses, 
TTjOre's  Kitty,  Susan,  likewise  Sally, 

Pace  the  lovely  lawn  or  valley, 
A  basket  on  their  arm  they  carry, 

FlU'd  with  blooming  peses. 

Cborus,    Huzza  for  the lasses. 

They're  the  girls  that  none  surpasSes^ 
Drink  to  them  and  glyour  glasves, 

Early  in  the  morning. 

Tho  maids  of  Scotland  they  are  bonny. 
Girls  of  England  sweet  ai  honey, 
They're  the  girls  that's  worth  your  money 

Virtue  them  adorning, 
Balmy  lips  like  sugar-candy, 
A  Venus  is  eaohllittle  dandy, 
I'll  drink  their  health  in  wine  and  brandy, 

Early  in  the  morning. 
At  eventide  they  spend  their  hours 
In  the  groves  a  plucking  flowers. 
Or  in  their  pleasant  shady  bowers, 

Lasses  and  tbeir  spousuk 
They  happy  ste*,  not  !ikc  thoce  paley 
KirablydH  their  duty  dsiiy, 
To  market  do  tboy  trip  so  gaily. 

Ch8ek8ili"t?  bloorainzi^roset. 
So  sing  tiieir  praise  and  m-ink  with  pleasure 
Let  the  landlord  fill  the  measure, 
-;fO  their  eyes  lie  all  n  ^  u---^.-<vrr>. 

Do  not  them  be 
IfMl  hadone  woti'i 
Now  I've. one'  i  ■^'  me, 

Love  has  pieici.     .,     ..row  thro' ^e. 

Early  in  the  morning. 
To  make  an  end  may  Heaven  shield  them 
Blessings  flow  and  p1o'«!'o  vield  Inem 
I'd*  a«l»«*rt  will  hrn  .  '  1  them 

Till  thi  day  itiri  I  V 
We'll  « -ast  them  thfee  times  thr«e  so  merr 
Wltii  that  iiiicy  wino  called  perry 
In  rum  or  brandy  beer  or  sherry 

Night  \;s  well  as  morning 

iweet  liondon  Belles ! 

O  Londoo  belles,  uweet  Lond<?n  belles. 
The  thoug-ht  of  you  my  bosoi*swells 
With  nodding:  plumes  and  /^bbons  rev 
In  bonnets  pink,  orgree/i  or  blue, 
Where'er  your  beauty  l^ht  impar* 
May  heaven  bless  your  hearts. 
l\Iv  pretty,  pretty  Lon«on  belles  ! 

Oh,  London/belles,  &c. 
Throunrhoutithe  worK'»  sweet  LoHdon  bellea 
Nor  even  whereiperU^tion  dwells, 
For  manners,  charms^ '^  killing  hue, 
No  raw  I  know  cai^tival  you. 

Where'e  yow  beauty,  8(« 


m 


The 

IiUcKy  £scape« 

I  That  oiif«  was  a  ploughman  a  sailor  am  n*w. 

No  lark  that  aloft  in  the  sky, 
^Ev€r  fluttered  his  wings  tog;re  sjKjed  totbcploug! 

Was  so  gay'ai^  so  earelossasi. 
But  my  friend  was  aCariindo  a-board  a  kings  ship 
Aud  he  ask'd  me  to  go  just  to  sea  for  a  trip, 
Andhetsrik'dofsuch  tbings 
Asif  sailors  were  kings. 
And  so  teasing  did  keep 
That  I  left  my  poor  plough  to  go  ploughing  the  dec]^ 
No  longer  the  horn 
Called  nic  up  in  the  morn, 
I  trusted  the  Carfindoand  the  inconstant  wind 
That  ma<lc  me  for  to  go  and  leave  my  dear  behind 

I  did  not  much  like  for  to  b*  on  board  ship 

When  in  dangci  there  i  s  no  door  to  creep  out 
I  liked  the  Jolh  tars  I  liked  biunboo  and  flip 

But  I  did  not  like  rocking  about. 
By  and  by  ccmca  hurricane  I  did  not  like  that 
Next  a  'oattlc  that  many  a  sailor  laid  flat, 

Ah  cried  I  whowolud  roam 

That  like  tne  had  a  home 

When  I  'd  sow  and  I'd  reap 
Ere  I  left  my  poor  plough  to  go  ploughing  the  deep 

Where  sweetly  the  horn 

Called  me  np  in  the  morn 
Ere  I  trusted  the  Carfindo  and  the  Inconstant  wind 
That  made  me  for  to  go  and  leave  my  dear  behind 

At  tas  t  safe  I  landed  and  in  a  whole  skia 

Nordld  I  make  any  long  stay 
Ere  I  fonud  by  a  friend  who  I  ask'd  for  my  kin. 

Father  dead  and  my  wife  run  away. 
Ah  who  but  myself  said  I  hast  thouito  blame  ? 
■  Wives  loosing  tbeir  husbands  oft  lose  their  goobnamei 
Ah  why  did  I  roam 
When  so  happy  at  home 
^  I  could  sowfand  could  reap 

Erel  left  my  poor  plough  to  go  ploughing  the  deep 
When  so  sweetly  the  horn  • 
Call'd  me  up  in  the  mom. 
Curses  light  upon  th  Carfindo  and  inoonstant  wind 
That  msdc  me  for  to  go  and  leave  my  dear  behind, 

Why  if  that  be  the  casessid  the  very  same  friend. 

And  you  bee'nt  no  more  minded  to  roam, 
Gie's  a  shake  by  the  fist  all  your  care's  at  an  end, 

Dad's  alive  and  your  wife's  safe  at  home. 
Stark  staring  with  joy  I  leap'd  out  of  my  skis, 
Buss'd  my  wife  mother  sis  tcr  and  all  of  my  kin« 
Now  cried  I  let  them  roam, 
Who  want  a. good  home 
I  am  well  so  I'll  keep 
Nor  again  leave  my  plough  to  go  ploughing  the  deep 
Onea  more  shall  the  horn 
Call  me  up  in  the  morn    ' 

NorshsU  any  damn'd  Carfindo  nor  the  inconstant  viod^ 
B'exampt  me  for  to  goand  leave  my  dear  behind. 

PRls*  Frkit«r,  Toy  Warehouse,  6  St.  AodrAV  8tr«#. 
Seven  Di»i»     Ji 


^ 


IN    THE    DAYS    WHKN  WK  WENT 
LUSHY  HOME  A  LONG  TIME  AGO. 

In  the  days  when  we  went  lushy  home 

A  long  time  ago, 
When  Palaces  was  not  in  vogue, 

And  cash  vornt  half  so  low, 
No  valley  cream  ve'd  stomach  then, 

Ve  vos'nt  quite  so  green, 
But  nothing  but  old  Hodges'  best, 

Upon  our  board  was  seen. 

CHORUS. 

And  so  we  pass  the  lushy  time, 

Of  spirits  we'd  a  flow, 
In  the  days  when  we  went  lushy  home, 

A  short  time  ago. 

At  night  our  eyes  was  black  from  fight, 

O  many  felt  the  fray, 
With  Peeler's  rattles  springing. 

While  we  in  the  gutter  lay. 
*Twas  then  we  heard  our  spouses'  tongues. 

With  many  ups  and  downs. 
And  oft  a  jolly  row  begun, 

For  spending  all  the  browns. 

We  took  a  diop  at  every  shop. 

Of  gin  and  peppermint, 
And  wish'd  our  brats  might  turn  out  trumps. 

And  might  they  never  squint. 
We  toasted  max  with  all  our  might, 

And  may  we  never  see, 
The  day  it  ever  should  give  way, 

To  temperance  and  tea. 

And  shotild  we  ever  pay  for  more, 

Or  take  a  glass  be  seen, 
We'll  drink,  we  will,  and  no  mistake, 
I    Lord  love  our  lovely  Queen. 
jMay  she  live  long  respectable, 
\   To  every  dodge  be  down. 
She'll  find  we  prophecy  correct, 

She'll  never  want  a  crown. 


THE  IRISHMAN'S  PICTURE  OF  ENGLAND 

'  Tis  myself  dat  was  bora  now  in  Dublin, 

All  over  the  world  I  have  been : 
But  at  present  I'll  you  not  be  troubling, 

Wid  the  whole  of  the  wonders  I've  seen 
I've  a  subject  got  snug  in  my  noddle — 

'lis  a  picture  of  England's  joys, 
lint  by  Jasus  dat  dere  is  all  twaddle. 
And  nought  but  palaver  and  noise, 
Talk,  of  America,  Greenland,  or  Finland, 

Here  liberty's  flag  is  unfurl'd, 
Och,  dis  is  a  picture  of  England, 
The  glory  and  pride  of  the  world  i 

De  streets  are  paraded  all  day, 

Wid  a  set  o'  bogtrotters  in  blue. 
Who  carry  a  mighty  shiUelagh, 

And  fait'  dey  make  use  of  it  too  ; 
Dey  batter  your  sconce  just  for  pleasure. 

In  de  station-house  put  you  for  fun. 
They  prig  allyour  money  and  treasure. 

And  de  beak  fines  you  when  it  is  done ! 

Talk  of,  &c. 
The  ministers  plunder  de  nation — 

A  set  of  rapscallions  and  calves  ; 
Dey  bother  de  poor  wid  taxation. 

And  glut  while  poor  Johnny  Bull  starves, 
Dere's  one  tax — by  my  sowl  I  don't  blundelkv* 

De  window-tax,  'tis  dat  I  manes ; 
I'm  sure  you'll  all  tink  it  a  wonder. 

To  make  de  poor  pay  for  their  pains  I 

The  bishops  wid  gospel  dey  stuff  ye. 

And  for  it  don't  charge  very  dear : 
'Bout  heaven  and  sich  like  dey  puff  ye. 

For  just  twenty  thousand  a  year ! 
Fine  luxuries  dey  must  be  camng, 

Dere  holy  paunch  it  must  be  cramm'd, 
But  if  a  poor  man  says  he's  starving, 

They  tell  him  to  starve  and  be  d — d. 

The  magistrates  they're  kind  and  tender. 

And  justice  they  deal  out  so  prime — 
The  beggar  they  deem  an  offender. 

And  poverty  think  a  big  crime. 
To  the  wretch  who's  no  roof  to  get  under, 

Or  victuals  his  belly  to  fill — 
They  cry,  in  a  voice  loud  as  thunder, 

"  I  shall  send  you  six  weeks  to  the  Mill.** 

The  overseers  work  upon  sure  rates, 

A  set  of  base  swindling  elves  ; 
They  distress  the  housekeeper  for  poor-rates. 

And  suck  all  the  money  themselves  : 
The  pauper  whose  wants  are  bewild'ring, 

When  he  ventures  his  sorrows  to  speak. 
To  keep  himself,  and  his  wife  and  six  children, 

They  gave  him  two  shillings  a  ween. 

Pitts,  Printer  and  Tot/  Warehouse,  6,  Great 
St.  Andretv  Street,  Scctni  Dials, 


THE   PLOUGH  BOY. 


\     Flaxen  headed  Cow-boy, 
■^^     As  simple  a'<  mny  be, 
And  next  a  merry  Ploncrii  boy^ 

I  whistled  o'er  the  lee, 
And  iK)w  a  saucv  footmaP) 

I  strut  in  worsted  lace, 
But  soon  ril  he  a  butler. 

And  wapf  my  jolly  face. 
When  steward,  Vm  promoted, 

I'll  snip  a  trfidesinan's  bill, 
Wy  ca^islcr'h  cofFera  empty, 

My  pockets  for  to  fill. 
When  lolling  in  mv  chariot, 

So  great  a  man  Til  be, 
You'll  forget  the  little  Plough  Boy, 

That  whistled  oV^r  the  lee. 


ril  buy  votes  at  Election?, 

But  when  Pve  made  the  pelf, 
ril  stand  poll  for  the  Parliament, 

And  then  vote  in  myself. 
AVhatever's  good  for  me;  sir, 

I  never  will  oppose. 
When  all  my  ayes  are  sold  off, 

Why  then  {  sell  my  noes. 
I'll  joke,  harangue,  and  paragraph, 

With  speeches  charm  the  ear, 
And  when  I'm  tired  on  my  legs, 

Then  I'll  sit  down  a  Peer. 
In  Courts  a  city  honour, 

So  great  a  man  PU  be. 
You'll  forget  the  little  Plough  l)oy, 

That  whistled  o'er  the  lee. 


Fitt$f  Printer,  rrholciale  Tot/  ondMarble  itafehovie, 
&  Gi.  St,  A  ndreto  StrtH,  Sevtn  DiuU. 


THE    OLD   MAID." 

HEN  I  was  a  girl  of  eighteen  years  old,  ^ 

I  was  scornful  as  scornful  could  be,  ^      i 

I  was  taught  to  expect  wit,  wisdom,  and  gold,  '*'    .V 
And  nx>thing  else  would  do  for  me. 

Those  were  the  days  when  my  eyes  beam'd  bright, 
And  my  cheek  was  like  the  rose  on  the  tree. 

And  the  ringlets  they  curl'd  o'er  my  forehead  so  while, 
And  lovers  came  courting  to  me. 

The  first  was  a  youth  any  girl  might  adore, 

And  as  ardent  as  lover  could  be ;  (^was  poor, 

But  my  mother  having  heard   that  the  young  man 
Why  !  he  would  not  do  for  me. 

Then  came  a  duke  with  his  coronet  of  gold, 

And  his  garter  below  his  knee,  '- 

But  his  face  like  his  family  was  wonderfully  old, 
So  he  Would  not  do  for  me,  *■ 

The  next  was  a  baronet  whose  blood  red  hand  f 

Was  emblazoned  in  heraldry  ;  » 

But  having  been  known  at  a  counter  to  stand,         '' 
Why  he  would  not  do  for  me. 

hen  hobbled  in,  my  favour  to  beg,  ; 

An  admiral,  a  K.C.B. ; 
But  though  famous  in  arms  he  wanted  a  leg,  * 

And  that  would  not  do  for  me. 

Then  came  a  parson  burlcy  and  big, 

Expecting  a  very  rich  see; 
But  I  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  a  horrid  buz-wig, 

So  he  would  not  do  for  me. 

Then  came  a  lawyer  his  claims  to  support 

By  precedents  from  chancery; 
But  I  told  him  I  was  judge  in  my  own  little  court, 

And  be  would  not  do  for  me. 

The  next  was  a  dandy  who  had  driven  four  in  haid, 

Keduc'd  to  a  tilbury  ; 
In  getting  o'er  the  ground  he  had  run  through  his  land. 

So  he  would  not  do  for  n>e. 

Then  came  a  nabob  just  landed  six  weeks. 

Late  governor  of  Trinoomalee  ; 
His  guineas  were  yellow,  but  so  were  his  cheeks  ; 

And  lie  would  not  do  for  me. 

He  was  nearly  the  last,  I  was  then  forty-four, 

I'm  now  ouly  just  fifty  three ; 
But  1  really  Uimk  that  some  I  rvjected  before,* 

Would  now  do  vastly  well  for  me. 

My  ringlets  1  borrow,  my  roses  I  buy 

And  I  go  about  to  cards  and  tea ; 
But  if  ever  I  venture  on  an  ogle  or  a  sigh, 

Why !  nobody  returns  them  to  me. 

Then  all  ye  young  ladies  by  me  warning  take, 

Who  scornful  or  cold  chance  to  be ; 
Lest  ye  from  your  silly  dreams  should  avafee        , ' 

Ola  maidens  of  fifty-three.  '         ^ 


WILL  YOU 

COME  TO  THE  DALE. 

WILL  yon  cotpe  to  the  dale  let  your  Mary 
prevail. 
For  oft  I've  heard  yoii  declare  ; 
That  you  ne'er  would  decline  in  these  pleasures 

to  join, 
Jf  Mary,  clear  Mary,  was  there. 
If  Mary,  dear  Mary,  was  there. 

Ah  why  then  refuse,  say  what  can  excuse, 
Yotir  hasting-  our  pastiines  to  share  ; 
See  bright  shines  the  sun,  the  sports  have  begun. 
And  Mary,  dear  Mary,  is  there. 

Ah  why  then  delay,  art  thou  tempted  to  stray. 

By  some  rival  more  wealthy  and  fair; 

Sure  your  heart  would  reply  its  fond  tenant  an^#I, 

That  Mary,  dear  Mary,  is  there 

That  Mary,  dear  Mary,  is  there. 

But  alas,  should  it  prove  that  another  you  love. 
And  to  church  with  your  bride  should  repair.; 
Should  some  willow  tree  wave  o'er  a  new  pover- 

ed  grave. 
Think  Mary,  dear  Mary,  lies  there. 

THE 

WELCH  HARP. 

OVER  the  sunny  hills  I  stray, 
Tuning  many  a  rustic  lay  ; 
And  oft  times  in  the  shady  vale, 
J  sjnf>-  of  love  and  battle  tales 
Merrily  thus  I  spend  my  life, 
Though  poor  my  breast  is  free  from  strife, 
The  blithe  old  harper  call'd  am  I, 
In  the  Welch  vales  'midst  mountains  lygh. 

a(omeiimes  Defore  a  castle  gate. 

in  song  of  battle  I  relate  ; 

As  how  a  Lord  in  shepherd's  disguise, 

JSougrii  favour  in  a  virgin's  eyes, 

W.tii  rich  and  poor  a  welcome  guest, 

Wo  cares  intrude  upon  my  breast. 

The  blest  old  harper,  &c. 

Wtien  Sol  illumes  the  western  sky 
And  evening  zephyrs  soflly  sigh, 
6Jit  times  on  village  green  1  play, 
WhiUt  round  me  dance  the  rustics  gay, 
/Vod  oft  when  veil'd  by  sable  uight, 
'fhfci  wandering  shepherds  I  deiighi. 

The  b!e4  old  harpt-r.  Sic. 


<Jt»*,  tj-inisr,xtliohtale  Toy  and  Murblt  Karuhnuse, 
C  m-  St.  Andrew  Street,  S^veu  U^^. 


iSS^ 


BONNY  BOY. 

IT  was  once  I  loved  a  bonny'boy, 
I  loved  him  I  vow  and  protest, 
I  loved  him  so  well,  so  very  well, 

That  I  built  him  a  birth  in  my  breast. 

I  built  him  &c. 
It  was  \\\)  the  green  forest  and  down  the  green 
forest, 

Like  one  that  was  troubled  in  mind, 
I  hooped  and  I  called  and  I  played  on  my  flute, 

But  no  bonny  boy  could  I  find. 
I  looked  up  high,  and  I  looked  down  low. 

And  the  sun  it  shone  wonderful  warm. 
Who  should  I  see  but  my  bonny  boy. 

He  was  fast  in  another  girl's  arms. 
Then  he  stretched  forth  his  lily  white  hand. 

And  he  thought  1  was  at  his  command. 
But  1  passed  by  and  never  cast  an  eye. 

And  he  thought  1  was  bound  in  loves  band. 
Then  he  took  me  on  his  dissembling  knee. 

And  he  looked  me  in  the  face, 
He  gave  me  a  dissembling  kiss. 

But  his  heart  was  in  another  girl's  breast. 

0  that  girl  that  enjoys  my  bonny  boy, 
I  am  sure  she  is  not  to  blame. 

Many  a  long  nighl  he  has  robbed  me  of  my  rest 
But  he  never  shall  do  it  again. 

DEAR  CHLOE,  COME  GIVE  ME 
.    SWEET  KISSES. 

DEAR  Chloe  come  give  me  sweet  kisses, 
For  sweeter  no  g\t\  ever  gave. 
For  while  in  the  midst  of  my  blisses, 
You  ask  me  how  many  I'll  have. 

1  am  not  to  be  sthitetf  m  ple.iiiure. 

So  pray  dear  Chios  be  kind, 
For  since  I  love  thee  beyond  measure, 

To  number  I'll  ne'er  be  confined. 
Count  the  Dee  that  enambles  the  plain, 

Count  the  flowers  that  enamblo  the  fieJd, 
Count  the  flock  that  is  in  a  tempest  straying, 

And  the  groves  that  rich  selers  yield. 
Count  how  many  stars  there's  in  Heaven, 

Go  number  the  sands  on  the  shore. 
And  so  many  kisses  you  gave  unto  rae, 

Yet  I  still  shall  be  asking  for  more. 
To  a  heart  full  of  love  let  me  hold  thee, 

A  heart  which  dear  Chloe  is  thine. 
In  my  arms  I  for  ever  enfold  thee. 

And  twirl  round  thy  neck  like  the  wiatl. 
What  joys  can  be  greater  that  these, 

F.'re  my  life  on  your  lips  shall  be  spent. 
The  wretch  that  can  number  these  kisaet 

Should  always  with  few  be  content. 


tlie  Young  Qlieeii  bfe  ^^i^jn 


.  Mother  hfioic:  you  re  ovl 


bappr,  and  calm  herj'  ^nti  the.iattjnnjr  slock  of  all, 
i     No  rest  nor  peace  have  I ; 
■  rt-poses^  ,  jThe  voting,  tlie  ol(]>  the  great  &  siiiall. 

•— -ifjn  6To\vj^|     ,\l\  fit'iue  have  a  shy. 
,.^,^^^        !l  thinlcs  it  wery,  Very  hard. 

And  so  vovlld  yon,  no  floliht, 
I  f  tlicy  cried  vheiie'er  yoji,  valkVt  abl'oad 
'  Docs  veil  re  iiioth?f  kTlo^y  youVf 
out  ?'  ^     ;A' 


Siie  villi  ail  a\'(i\\\  }5oiiti 
Ask'd,  as  not  to  be  resisted", 
'  Doc^yonr  iiioiherlitioyvyouVeeiii 


'up  Queeu  be  happy,  uni^ullied  lior  oom-tj 
■^  :'f  iior  [jeople  her  pride  and' support. j 


MV. mind's  ifiade  Up,  I  v^lll  not  stay 

111  town^  io  be  derided  | 
But  to  .so0e  .Mlcnt  glen  avay, 

^V^t're.iny  ,giiej"can  le  subsided. 
['li  ss^K  souicrshfk'rirg  peaceful  nook, 
^^ew-lione  can  couw  and  rout, 
i)t  question  ijie  vith   ticiidish  look^=^ 
■  >■"■' l;cr  know  vcm'reont  ?. 


"  ])()<"; 


iuoen  behappj-;  should  pease |> 

t  a  heart  in  her  Icingdom  frould  falter, 
.■  \Mce  would  call  forth  a  triumphant  aiTj^ 
T  a  defence  oi  the  throne  and  tJie  altar. 
•  I  luvels  enough  reaJj  galher'd  we  find, 
:  Vno  spark  of  right  feeling-  ho  loses 
I'rays  that  tlie  olive  may  now  he  cntwijied 
:tli  the  evergreen  rreath  of  the  Muses. 

t lie  y.<.ui;c;  Quei>i7 be liappj, unsullietl  lie* Mfnift  _,        ..  r  /-  i  • 

'■   '  '■  her  jeople  her  pride  and  8\ii>i«>jrt.i^^'V'*'   *  ever  fishing  so> 


My  station  is  resijcctahle, 

There's  nothing  about  ine 
In  the  sliglatest  vay  detectable, 

Of  l?}e  apeing  wain  co^Jfiiev 
I  keeps  mv.ofir<,  I  drssjies  veil, 

But  as  I  rides,  al)Out, 
The  cry  is — 'Ho  !  my  precious  svell  ! 


Coys  of  Kilkenny. 


•i- 


Does  y.our  iiiGtber  know  you're  oilt  ?'i 


I 


'Folks  vill  not  let  me  be, 
!  Vol's  mirth  to  them  to  me  is  voe, 
■■  -  /illhougb,  ]>'rliaps  but  a  spree. 
Tntuuly  ven  I  sometimes  ;try. 

Fly-fishing,  to  catch^-UfOUt,  .Vuatlie'inore'itUuiif  orilthenjon 

Some  willaiir  will  come,^  and  cry~^J,^:^^'^:ZLS^ 
'  L>o«8  Tour  mother  know  von're  out  ?  \ 

...  ^         ,.  -■     •'  I 

It's,  really  quite  a  misery 
-  To  be  so  much  annoy 'd, 
Ito-feariiig  this  wile  tmizzery, 

Fiieud  and  foe  I  amie  avoid, 
roni  post  10  ])illar  I  am  chas'd, 

And  driven  like  a  scOut, 


OIj  the  ijoysof  Kniieniiy  are  Irrave  rovinp!  blade.-;, 
.V-itl.if  evev  they  meet  wiUi  nice  little  iTiaitls, 
i'J'liP.y'll  kiss  tlie'm  &  coa.\  tl)eiir&  spend  their mooeyfre^ 
[And  of  all  Ihc  towns  in  lix-iaHtl  Kilkenny  I'or  mS. 

p"In  the  tflwn  Of  fcillcpuuy  lliere  runs  a  cleni-  stream, 
'In  the  town  of  ICilkeniiy  tlier«  lives  at'tiir  danie, 
(Kcr  iip-i  aie  like  roi.ses,  audlicr  mouth  riuich  the  ssunft; 
(Like  a  dish  of  I'reali  strawlienics  braothered  in  creanl. 

iHcrcyesAre  as  Waclc  as  EUkcnny's large  coal, 
IWhicli  thito'  ijiy  poor  bosom  have  burnt  a  large  hoi*  J 
jilerniind,  like  its  river,  is  uiild,  clear  and  iiuie, 
JBut  her  beak  is  moi-e  hard  than  jnarUe  I'm  sure. 

I'retty  to«n,  and  .shivies  vhereit  stands) 
e  my  heart  warms, 
b«  at  home, 
here  can  get  none. 

I'll  build  ray  lo-»*a  castle  on  Kilkenny's  free  sn'ouaid  , 
(Neither  lords,  dukes, nor  sqirircs,  shall  cverpull  itiio-w-ll 
|And  if  any  one  should  ask  yonto  tell  him  my  naiilB) 
|-am  au  Irish  exile,  and  from  Killicnuy  I  came.         ',  , 


W 


Death  of  Sir  Jobn  Moore, 


Kate  Kearney. 


I  yon  not  hear  of  Kate  Kearney  ? 
lives  on  tne  bank.?  of  Killarney; 
"in  the  glaiiceof  her  eye, 
..  un  danger  and  fly, 
!  atal  is  the  glance  of  Kate  Keanoey. 
i-'ir  that. eye  is  so  inodestiy  beamrilg, 
J,Y.  uM  ne'er  thhik  of  mischief  she''i*  dreammg, 
.>     Yet  oh,  I  con  tell, ' 
-■:    IIiiw  fatal  s  the  spell, 
,  Tliat  lurks  in  the  eye  of  Kate  Kearney, 
nil,  should  you  o'er  meet  this  Kate  Keaiiiey, 
V  I'.o  lives  on  the  banks  of  Killarney, 
'  -ware  of  her  sniile, 
■  >r  inuny  a  wile 
'  ■ "  la'jthe  sinilo  of  Kate  Kearney. 
'  0  laoks  sobewitchingly  simple, 

isic  iu  every  dimple, 
..r>  dares  ivihale, 
ath's  r.picy -(lalv-, 

l>y  tho  l)r?atl»,'-<"  Kats  Ke.iniey. 
'     ',  ynist  die,*j.« 


01       .          ,                       ,1,1       iN'ot  a  drum -ivasheard,  nor  n  Jbneral  ntite, 
ne  to  ask  at    ev  ry  corner  S    plac  d- a.'*  bis  corse  to  the  rampart  (?e  hun-ieU  ; 

'  Does  your  motlier  know  you're  Outt'r'r!•''^°^''"'''■'^'*''^T■^""''l''''*^*^^^"•  , 

J  •'1     O  er  the  grave -ivhere  our  hci-o  fl'usburieil 

1  vonce  the  nuisance  to  escajje,  i 

Vos  forc'd  a  cab  to  call,  | 

But  the  fellers  out  of  spite  did  gape, 

And  vouldn't  hear  me  bawl : 
Then  my  pursuers  tipt  the  vink. 

The  cads  setup  a  shout — 
(I  felt  so  queer  you  cannot  think) 
Does  your  mother  know  you're  out  ? 


We  buried  him  darkly  at  the  dead  of  ni^ht, 
Thesodswith  our  liayonetsturnh'rg — 

By  the  f-truft^ling  moofi-beams'  misty  light, 
And  the  lautcin  dimly  burning. 

Ko  usele.ss -coffin  endlos'd  his  breast, 
Nor  iu  sheet  not-  in  shroud  ivebounil  liim  ; 

But  he  lay  like  a  waniur  takiiig  his  i-est, 
With  his  martial  clonk  aroundhim; 


For  iny  part,  nothing  can  I  see 

About  my  person  fiariug, 
Vy  they  should  push  their  fmi  at  me 

And  .saucily  be  staring  ? 
'Tis  shameful,  and  with  rage  1  burn 

That  ev'ry  stupid  lout 
Should  cry,  vhichever  vay  T  turn — 
'  Does  your  mother  know  you're  out  ?'it>„,,  ,r  f       1        .1        1 

^  J  Kuthalfof  our  heavy  task  was  done, 

rri  ^     ^^  ^      t     '    T      T  Wlieu  the  clock  loli'd  tlis  liour  fur  retiytnc ; 

1  0  a  bail  last  l«g,lit  Invent,  i»l  wt  heard  bvthe  distant  and  rundom  gun, 

I       And  happy  migbvV.ave  been,  I     That  the  foe  wa.  suddenly  lii-ing.        , 

|.\  lAoasniU    ev  nil! g    there    have   spcnt-'siowlyandMdly  wc  laid  him  down, 

i      Vith  a  •lanisel— beautv'n  Ouo^.r.  '       i     Fv"",<>efioldof  hisfaioefresh  and^ry -, 

I  ,  .        ,.        'i"f:«.n  .       I     t  carv  d  not  a  line — we  rai8  d  not  *  staM!—- 

iButKSH  vaitz  ve  tristed, 


pi  1'"mw-  and  short  were  the  prayers  we  .said, 
And  we  spoke  not  a  Avord  of  soiTow, 
Btrt  we  steadfastly  ijazed  on  the  face  of  the  dead, 
And  «  e  bitterly  thOilght  of  the  mon-ow. 

We  thought,  as  we  hollow'd his  narrow  bed, 
.And  RHWothed  down  his  lonely  pillow. 

That  the  foe  and  the  stransci'  -^vould  ti-ead  on  his  hj 
And  wo  far  away  oa  the  billow. 

r.ighlly  they'll  talk  of  the  p.piHt  that's  gone, 
And  o'er  ills  c.old  ashes  upbraid  liim  ; 

But  nothin!<  he'il  reck;  if  they  let  him  sleep  on, 
111  the  grave  ■\\'here  a  Briton  has  laid  him. 


Uulwo  l*ft  him  klon«  i-n  his  ^oi-y. 


--/ 


JENNY   JONISS- 

A  Favourite  Welch  Melody  sung  hy  Mr.  Charles  Matthews* 


My  nnme's  Edward  Morgan,  1  live  at  Llangollen, 

From  the  vale  of  St.  Taffy  the  flower  of  North  Wales;       i 

My  father  and  mother  too,  live  at  Lldng;ollen, 

Ooo<l  trulh  !   I  was  born  in  that  sweetest  of  vnles  : 

Vee,  indeed,  and  all  countries  so  foreign  and  beautiful,      , 

That  little  valley  I  prize  far  above, 

For  indeed  in  my  heart,  I  de  love  that  Llangollen, 

And  s^eet  Jeuny  Jones  too,  in  truth  I  do  love. 

For  twenty  long  years  1  have  plough'd  the  salt  oceans, 

And  serv'd  my  full  time  in  a  man-o'-war  ship, 

And  'deed,  goodness  knows,  we  had  bluodful  engagements! 

And  many  a  dark  storm  in  the  pitiless  deep. 

And  Fve  seen  all  the  Hnds  that  are  famous  in  story, 

And  many  fair  damsels  to  gain  me  have  strove  ;  5 

But  I  said  in  my  heart,  I  do  love  that  Llangollen, 

And  sweet  Jenny  Jones  too,  in  truth  I  do  love. 

Fve  seea  good  king  George,  and  the  lord  IMay'r  of  London, 

With  kings  of  far  countries,  and  many  a  queen. 

The  great  pope  of  Rome,  and  the  ducbess  of  Angouleme, 

Up  from  king  George  to  sir  Watkin  Fve  seen. 

But  no,  not  princesses,  kings,  dukes,  nor  commissioners, 

No,  goodness  knows  it,  u.-y  envy  could  move  : 

For  indeed  in  my  heart,  I  do  love  that  Llangollen, 

And  sweet  Jenny  Jones  too,  in  truth  I  do  love. 

I  parted,  a  lad  from  the  vale  of  my  fathers. 

And  left  Jenny  Jones  then  a  cockit  young  lass  : 

But  now  Fra  return'd  a  storm-beaten  old  mariner, 

Jenny — from  Jones,  into  Morgan  shall  pass. 

And  we'll  live  on  our  cheese  and  our  ale  in  contentment, 

And  long  thro'  our  dear  native  valley  will  rove  ; 

For  indeed  in  our  hearts  we  both  love  that  Llangollen, 

And  sweet  Jeimy  Morgan  with  truth  will  I  love. 


PRETTY  GIRLS  OF  LONDON. 

Let  poets  sing  about  the  fair. 

And  praise  their  wit,  their  grace  and  air. 

The  country  has  its  damsels  rare, 

Who  many  hearts  have  undone. 
But  for  rosy  cheeks  and  forms  divine,    . 
For  sparkling  eyes  and  teeth  so  fine, 
No  other  maidens  can  outshine. 

The  pretty  girls  of  London 

The  dandy  takes  such  mighty  c«re, 
To  spruce  his  person,  curl  his  hair. 
Wears  whiskers  too  a  killing  pair, 

And  thinks  he's  not  by  one  done. 
Then  up  Bond  street  he  struts  so  gay. 
Smokes  his  Havannah  on  the  w«y. 
He  swaggers  m  his  hne  arrnv 
•^   To  charip  the  girls  of  London 


The  shopman  saves  up  all  his  cash. 
About  the  streets  to  cut  a  dash, 
In  beauty's  heart  to  malce  a  smash. 

With  pride  enough  to  stun  one. 
On  Saturday  he  his  clothes  gets  out. 
On  Sunday  proudly  struts  about. 
But  on  Monday  his  toggs  go  up  the  spout 

Thro'  treating  the  girls  of  London. 

The  chimney  swepper  cries  •  I  wow,  * 

I  hate  this  wulgar  calling  now, 
I  means  to  be  a  slap  up  beau. 

And  goes  vhere  there  is  fjJn  done. ' 
I'll  vosh  my  skin  so  lilly  wmte. 
And  sport  my  Benjamin  all  rigHiJ^' 
Then  shan't  1  tiare  up,  blow  me  tigKt, 

And  gammon  the  girls  of  LJ|odoiW 

The  jolly  tars  just  come  ashore,  ^ 
With  shiners  in  his  purse  galoi|k 
Struts  out  in  quest  you  may  bjiure. 

Of  a  port  where  there  is  fun^one. 
As  drunk  as  Chloe  he  rolls  about. 
Amongst  the  lasses  makes  a  rout. 
But  ofieu  he  gets  cleaned  out,  * 

By  the  pretty  girls  of  LondllH. 

Apprentice  boys  who  men  would  be. 
All  wish  to  charm  the  fair  d'ye  see, 
So  with  their  master's  cash  make  free. 

Until  they  find  they're  undone. 
Each  place  of  fashion  they  are  at. 
Drink  their  champaign  and  quiz  the  fat. 
Then  sport  the  blunt  and  cut  it  fat. 

With  the  pretty  girls  of  London* 

Old  gentlemen  of  sixty-four. 

By  gout  and  asthma  plagued  8«  sore, 

Inspireti  with  love,  feel  pain  no  more. 

And  anxious  as  a  young  man. 
Cry  'talk  of  age — poll,  poh,  all  stuff, 
Fm  quite  a,  lad  and  hale  and  bluff, 
Fin  sixty-four,  that's  young  enonifb. 

For  the  pretty  girls  of  London. 

So  in  every  rank,  in  evepy  stage. 
The  London  ladies  are  the  rage, 
Their  beauty  charms  both  yovith  and  ii^, 

'J'hey  really  arc  by  none  done- 
Their  bliss,  tfieir  lovely  faces  dear. 
Where'er  or  when  they  may  appear. 
And  may  good  fortune  ever  cheec. 

The  pretty  girls  of  London. 


Pittt.  Printer,  ti  ho Issait  Tog  and  Mmrdft  WarttiOUH. 
«,  ijreat  6t   A  nartw  Strtei,  S*r>en  iheHk 


BK  CAREFUL  IN 

CHOOSLNG  A  WIFE. 

Pitts,  Printer,  wholesnle  Toy  and  Marble  viire/uuse^ 
6,  (rt.  St.  Andrctvx  Street,  Seven  Dials. 

OW  all  voung-  men  that's  g'oing-  to  wed. 
Don't  be  catch'd  like  a  bird  with  a  sftjall  bi^ 
oi"  bread, 
For  when  you  are  catch'd  remember  for  life, 
J'J  liaveyou  be  careful  in  choosing-  a  wife. 
Fot  women'«  deceitful,  and  so  very  unkind, 
"J'wouW  puzzle  a  lawyer  to  know  their  own  mind, 
And  when  you  have  done  the  best  that  you  can, 
The  silliest  woman  will  outv/it  a  man. 

Fol  de  rol  lol. 

For  when  you  are  wed,  and  a  squaller  is  born, 
A  Kian  may  then  work  his  poor  fing-ers  to  the  bone, 
There's  the  midwife  and  nurse,  and  gossoping- 
crew,  T  thro  ugh. 

It  IS   more  than  a  poor  man  can   pull   himsel/ 
m  the  morning  he  finds  he's  quite  wet  at  the  hip. 
His  clothes  are  quite  wet,  and  his  shirt  is  bes-  -I, 
So  this  is  the  comfort  of  a  married  life, 
I  wish  in  my  heart  I  had  never  a  wife. 

In  the  morning  I  go  to  my  breakfast  at  eight. 
But  the  devil  a  spark  of  fire  is  in  the  grate, 
My  wife  she  lays  snoring  like  a  pig  in  a  stye. 
But  there's  never  a  bit  of  breakfast  for  I. 
If  I  ask  her  to  rise,  O  she  flies  in  a  pet, 
And  bawls  out  begone,  for  it's  time  enough  yet, 
Get  thy  breakfast  tlivself,  and  be  ofT  to  thy  work, 
And  do  not  not  stay  here  for  to  idle  and  lurk. 

The  dinner-time  comes  to  my  home  I  repair, 
'Tis  a  thousand  to  one  if  my  wife  I  find  there. 
She's  gadding  about  with  the  child  on  her  knee. 
And  the  devil  a  sign  of  a  dinner  for  me: 

©  could  1  but  once  more  be  single  again. 
The  finest  of  women  should  ne'er  me  trepan. 
And  so  I'd  remain  ail  the  days  of  my  life. 
Great  iuck  to  the  man  that  has  got  such  a  wife. 

At  night  when  I  come  sadly  tir'd  from  my  work, 
vVhen  1  open  the  door  she  let's  fly  like  a  Turk, 
Take  that  young  squalling    brat,  and  get  it  to 

sleep, 
for  all  the  day  long  no  peace  ean  I  keep. 
And  if  1  should  offer  the  job  to  refuse, 
W;th  the  longs  or  the  poker  she  would  m«  abuse, 
And  this  IS  the  comfort  attending  our  li'^ai, 
wuMi  tfeat  tliedsvil  bad  all  such  wiv«f. 


SANDY  AND 
JENNY. 

Pitts,   Printer,  whoiisale   Toy,  and  Marble  uckrehousis 
6,  (it.  St.  Andrius  Street,  Sev«n  Dtats. 


c 


"10ME  come  bonny  lassie  cried  Sandy  away. 
While  mither  is  spinning  and  fathers  aw'av. 
folks  are  at  work  and  the  birds  are  at  p'ay. 


The  folks  are  a*  ,t^.^  iv..^  -.. x^^^^v.  «*  ^. 

And  we  will  be  married  dear  Jenny  to  day. 

And  we  will,  ic. 

Stay  stay  bonny  l^die  1  answered  with  speed, 

winna  1  munna  go  with  you  indeed. 
Besides  should  I  do  so  what  would  the  folks  sa%  , 
O  we  canna  marry  dear  Saeidy  to  day. 

iiistlist  cried  the  laddie,  and  mind  what  you  do, 
Faith  Peggy  and  Patty  I  give  up  for  you. 
Besides  a  full  twelvemonth  we've  trifled  away, 
.\nd  one  or  the  other  I'll  marry  to  day. 

Fie  fie  bonny  laddie  return 'd  I  again. 

When  Poggyyou  kissed  t'other  day  on  tb*  olaib. 

Besides  a  new  ribbon  doth  Patty  dLsplav. 

So  we  canna  be  married  dear  Sandy  to  day 

Then  then  a  good  bye  bonnie  lassie  said  he 
For  Pegjry  and  Patty  are  waiting  for  Tie, 
'1  he  kirk  is  hard  by  and  the  bolls  call  away. 
And  Peggy  or  Patiy  I'll  marry  to  day, 

Stop  stop,  bonny  laddie,  siiid  she  with  a  smile 
Let  you  Know  i  wasjoKing  rnUeeo  nli  the  while, 
For  Peggy  go  spin  and  send  Patty  away 
And  We  will  be  muiried  dcai  Sainly  lo  day. 


Pretty  Girls  of  London. 


IET  poets  sing  ab'-'ut  the  fair, 
.*  And  praise  thc:r  wit   tljfir  grace  and  air, 
1  he  country  ha'  its  «)anise's  rare. 
Who  many  hearts  have  undone 
I'm  lor  rosy  checks  and  tVuns  divine, 
t-or  sparkling  tyes  and  tteili  mi  tine, 
Ivn  oilier  /linidens  can  ou'smnp, 
The  pretty  girls  oi  Lot:di.u. 


The  dandy  takes  such  miahty  care. 
To  sprucp  his  person,  cuil  his  hair. 
Wears  whiskers  too  a  killing  pair, 

And  thinks  he's  not  by  one  done, 
T  hen  up  Bond  street  he  struts  so  gay. 
Smokes  his  Havannah  on  the  way. 
Ha  swaggers  in  his  fine  array , 

xo  charm  the  girls  of  London, 


T'»e  sfcopman  saves  ap  a'l  his  cash 

Al'Out  the  streets  to  cut  a  dash 

In  beauty's  heart  to  make  a  sma  I', 

with  pride  enoiifrhto  stun  one, 
On  Satnft'ay  he  his  clothes  gets  out 
<  >n  Sand  ly  proudly  struts  about 
Bni  on  Monday  his  tog^s  gn  upth»  spout 

yhro'  Heating  tne  girls  ot  i,ondjn 


Tho  chimney  sweeper  cries  '  I  wow, 
1'  nate  tnis  »uigar  caling  now, 
J  means  to  be  a  sla|>  up  beau. 

And  goes  vhcre  there  is  fuo  done 
lil  vosli  my  tk  n  so  lilly  white, 
^ind  sport  mv  Benjamin  all  r  ^ht 
'J  hf  11  shan't  1  Hare  up  hlow  me  ti^tit 
And  gam.non  tlie  girls  oi  london. 


The  Jolly  tarsjust  come  ashore, 
uiih  shiners  m  his  purse  galore 
Sttuts  out  in  guest  you  mav  be  sure 
Of  a  port  svhere  there  is  fun  dune^ 
As  drunk  as  Chloe  he  roils  ^Lout 
otnongst  tn3  ayses  raa'^e*  a  nut 
tui  often  he  gets  cleaned  out, 
ijy  the  j.retty  girls  of  London, 


Apprditice  >oys  who  mm  wouJJ  be 
Ali  w'nh  Jociarm  ttit-  fail  d'ye  see,     ' 
So  with  ihei!  master's  cash  makd-+ice» 

TJnlii  1  hey  find  ihoy 're  undone 
Each  place  of  fashion  they  are  at, 
Jjfiv.k  their  champaign  and  quisthe  fat 
They  >port  t'le  IjIjhi  and  cut  it  fat. 

With  the  pretty  girls  of  London* 


Old  gentlemen  ©f  sixty  four. 

By  gout  and  astlima  plagued  so  sore. 

Inspired  with  love  reel  pain  n.5  more 

A nd  anxious  as  a  young  man. 

Cry  'talk  of  ai^e poh,  poh,  all  stui?, 

I'm  qu  te  a  lad  and  hale  and  bluti 
I'm  sixty  fonr,  that's  young  enough 

for  the  pretty  girls  of  londonj 


So  in  every  rank  in  every  sta»-e 
The  london  ladies  are  the  rag'e/ 
Tteir  beauty  charms  both  yb.ith  and 

1  hay  really  are  by  non?  done. 
Their  bhss,  their  lovely  faces  (ioar 
where'er  or  when  ifaey  may  appear 
And  may  (iood  fortune  ever  cheer  ' 

The  prettv  girls  of  london 


Prest 


By   the   Margin   of  Fair 

Zur/ch's   Waters. 

B  .^  tbe  margin  of  Zurich's  f..i,  wat^is  ;  ayie-. 
Dwelt  a  youth  whose  fo„d  heart  ni^ht  i;n,i  -iav 
I'or  .he  fa.rest  of  fa-r  Zurich  s  da.  J.tersuvi^o 

in  a  dream  of  Icve  melted  awaA . 
When  alone,  no  one  fcolder  than  iie 
Rut  with  her  none  m,)re  timid  cotiid  h^ 
WilJ  you  I.St  to  me  dearest.  I  |,r...y  ;  usis.i 
When  She  did,  this  was  all  he  could  say, 

Ayieo  ayieo  alack  wtll  a  day 
.       Ayita,  ;iyieo,  vas  all  he  cot  Id  .ay 

By -he  margin  of  Zurich's  fair  waUrs  -    yi,o 

^t'liecrcseofafi.esamnu.rsd-;v 
To  the  fairest  of  fair  Z.rvh^s  d.urhters  avir^o 
,  This  fond  jouth  round  at  h.t  tonao.   ir;  s ' ? 
I  mm  love,  as  you  plainly  nKMs.c"'''* 
i.ou)d  Move  any  other  hilt  tl.ee 
t^-^ay -hen  wilt  thou    be  uiy  bride,  ay:©', 
^au  ^ou  tell  how  this  fair  one  replied 

/yieo,  ayieo,  f  have  you  tog'jcsT 
Ajico^  ayieo  of  cjursr!  sh-  said  '  ^es.' 


J.  Pitts,  Printer  &  Toy  Warehouse 
(\^  Great  Sr»  Andrew  Street  Se. 
ven  Dials 


-^ 


lET  US  HASTE  TO 

Kelvin  Grove. 

Prin.ed  by  T   BIRT,  "I  (\   Great  St.  Andrew -Street, 
(wholesait  and  relaii,)  -*•  ^^ ^     Seven  Dials,  London. 

I'oiintiy  OiHer*  puucinally  attended  to. 
Eveiy  tlesrrip\wa  of  Printing  on  the  nnost  reasonabU  Icqms. 

'W    KT  u.s  haste  to  Kelvin  grove, 
Bj^         .  Bonnie  Lassie  Ol 
Through  its.  mazes  let  us  rove, 

Bonnie  Lassie  O  ! 
Where  the  rose  in  all  its  pride, 
Paints  the  hollow  dingle  side, 
Where  the  midnight  fairies  glide, 

-Bonnie  Lassit;  O! 

We  will  wander  by  the  mill,  BonnieLas«ic  0  ! 
To  the  cave  beside  the  rill,  BonnieLas«i«  O ! 

Where  the  glens  rebound  the  call 

Of  the  lofty  waters  fall, 

Through  the  mountains  rocky  hall, 
Bonnie  Lassie  O  I 

Tlienwe  11  upto  yonder  glade,BonnieLassie01 
Where  so  oftbeneath  its  shade, BonnieLassieO! 
With  the  songsters  in  the  grove, 
We  have  told  our  tale  of  love, 
And  have  sporting  garlands  wove, 
Bonnie  Lassie  O  ! 

Ah  !  I  soon  must  bid  adieu,  Bonnie  Lassie  O  ! 
I'o  this  fairy  scene  and  you,  Bonnie  Lassie  O  ! 

To  tlie  streamlet  winding  clear, 

To  the  fragrant  scented  brier. 

E'en  to  thee  of  all  most  dear, 
Bonnie  Lassie  ()  1 

}''orlhefrownsoifortunelow'r,BonnielYassieO  ! 

t.)n  thy  lover  at  this  hour,  Bonnie  I-assie  O  ! 
Ere  the  golden  orb  of  day, 
Wake  tlie  warblers  from  their  spray, 
From  this  land  I  miTst  away, 
Bonnie  Lassie  (> ! 

And  when  on  distant  shore, BonnieLassie  O  ! 
'Should!  fall  midst  battlesroar,  BonnieLassieO  ! 

Wilt  thou,  JULIA,  when  you  hear, 

Of  thy  lover  on  his  bier, 

To  his  mem'ry  drop  a  tear, 
Bonnie  I^assie  ()  ♦ 


ANSWER 


TO 

Kelviai  Grove. 

Wirtfcteii  expressly  for  MfSS  STEPHENS,  by 
a  Scoirish  Olfieer. 

Printed  by  T.BIR  f,  T!  /^  GreatSt. Andr-ew-Slreel 
wkolesaleand  retail,       ^-^9   Seven  Dievls,  Loiidvn 

Counlry  Orders  punctually  atlerided  to. 
tt*  Handbiljs,  (-arib,  &c.  PriiUed  neat  and  cl;inp, 

THEN'farewell  to  Kelvrn  Grovt, 
-  "Bonnie  Laddie  (}  ! 
The  sweet  scene  of  *arly  love, 
Bonnie  \     ddie  O  ! 
Farewell  to  cot  auLt  xnill, 
Farewell  to  dale  and  hill. 
We'll  fondly  gaze  adieu, 
Bonnie  Laddie  O ! 

Hark  !  the  drimis  to  arms  do  beat, 

Bonnie  Laddie  O ! 
Let  us  march  our  foes  to  meet, 
Bonnie  Laddie  ()  \ 
When  in  the  battle  liehl, 
Loves  guardian  angel  shield. 
And  my  prayer  shall  be  for  th^a^t, 
lioniiie  Laddie  O! 

ff  thou'rt  wounded  in  the  strife, 

Bomiie  Laddie  O  ! 

1  will  cheer  and  guard  thy  life, 

Bonnie  Laddie  O ! 

Amid  <1;  ead  war  s  alarms, 

Thy  pillow  be  my  arms, 

Till  health  again  restore, 

M\  Bonnie  Laddie  O  ! 

When  peace  shall  bless  our  shore, 

Bonnie  Laddie  O  ! 
To  our  native  hills  once  more, 
Bonnie  Laddie  O ! 
With  little  cot  and  mill, 
Beside  the  fall  aiifl  lull, 
Scotland's  Sons  shall  hail, 

My  Bonnie  Lacidie  O ! 


JACK  HALL. 

BIRT.    Primer,   39,   Great    St.   An<5rew    Strret, 
Seven  Dials. 

My  name  it  is  J.'Kk  Hall,  chimney  sv\et'p,  chimnoy 

My  name  it  is  J«ck  Hall,  chimney  sweep, 

My  name  it  is  Jack  Hall, 

And  1  rob  both  great  and  small, 

But  my  liie  must  pay  for  all. 

When  I  die,  when  1  die 
But  my  life  itust  pay  for  all, 

When  1  die. 

I'fe  furnished  all  m>|room,  that's  no  joke,  Ihat's 

no  joke, 
]\e  furnished  all  my  room  that's  no  joktJ, 
I've  furnished  all  my  room» 
Boih  with  shovels  and  birch  brooms 
Besides  a  chimney  pot  that  I  stole, 

That  I  stole,  thai  1  stole, 
Besides  a  chimney  pot  that  I  stole, 

I  sold  candles  in  the  Jail  short  of  weight,  short  of 

weight, 
I  sold  candles  in  the  Jail  short  of  weight. 
But  the  candles  that  I  sold, 
They  would  light  me  to  the  hold. 
They  would  light  me  to  ihe  hold, 

Where  I  lay,  where  I  lay, 
They  ->vould  light  me  to  the  hold 

Where  I  lay. 

They  told  me  in  the  Jail,  i  should  die,  I  should  dia 

T»»ey  told  me  in  the  Jail.  1  should  die, 

Oh  !  the)  told  me  in  the  Jail 

I  should  drink  no  more  brown  ale. 

But  the  ale  will  never  fail 

More  shall  I,  more  shall  I, 
But  the  ale  will  never  fail, 

More  shall  I, 

As  we  goes  up  Holborn  Hill  in  a  cart,  in  a  cart, 
As  we  iioes  up  Holborn  Hill  in  a  cart ; 
As  we  goes  up  Holborn  Hill, 
At  St.  Giles's  we  did  fill, 
Then  for  old  Tyburn 

We  depart,  we  depart, 
Then  for  old  Tyburn, 

We  depart. 

The  ladder  and  the  rope  went  up  and  down,  up 

and  down. 
The  ladder  and  the  rope  went  up  and  down, 
Oh  !  the  ladder  and  the  rope, 
My  collar  bone  they  broke. 
And  a  devil  a  word  1  spoke  come  dewn. 

Coining  down,  coming  down, 
;  And  a  devil  a  word  I  spoke 
j,     Coming  <iown. 


OLD 


DAN  TUCKER. 

UIRT,  Printer,  39,  Great  St.  Andrew  Sirceel,  Seven 


Dials,  London. 


Dan  Tucker  lived  in  a  nice  little  hut, 

The  hair  of  his  head  was  as  black  <»s  soot, 

He  went  to  bed,  it  was  of  no  use, 

Cos  his  legs  stuck  out  for  the  chicken  (o  roost. 

Get  out  of  tic  way,  old  Dan  Tucker, 

You're  too  late  to  have  some  supper, 

Old  Dan  Tucker  he  got  drunk, 

He  fell  in  the  fire  and  kicked  up  a  shunk, 

De  charcoal  got  inside  his  shoes, 

Lord  ha*  mercy  heney,  how  the  ashes  fllew. 

Dan  Tucker  had  a  bit  of  gristle, 

He  put  it  on  the  fire  and  kicked  up  a  frietle, 

De  fat  it  fell  upon  his  toes. 

Oh  !  dear  honey,  hov^  he  turned  up  his  nese 

Dan  Tucker  was  a  hateful  sinner. 

He  neber  said  his  grace  at  dinner, 

De  little  pig  shout,  de  old  pig  equall, 

He  opened  his  mouth  and  swallowed  dem  ^i, 

Dan  Tucker  was  a  nice  old  man, 
He  used  to  ride  old  Dobbin  biun, 
He  sent  him  whizzing  down  the  hill, 
If  he's  not  got  up,  he's  lying  d»Me  still. 

A  wigger  came  from  Chippewa, 

De  biggest  fool  dat  eber  I  saw, 

He  put  on  his  shirt  on  oyer  his  coai. 

He  butoned  his  trowsers  round  his  tJbroat* 


Brandy  and  Ale. 

BIRT,  Printer   39,  Great  St.  Andrew    Street, 
Seven  Dials. 

Every  descriptian  o  Printing  done  Cheap. 

'♦• 

MY  name  is  Daffy  Down  Day, 
And  that  you  may  plainly  see, 
I  walk  up  and  down, 
In  my  morning:  gown, 
Snging  brandy  and  ale  for  me, 

CHORUS. 

Brandy  and  ale,  brandy  and  ale, 

And  a  sweet  pretty  girl, 
And  a  bed  for  us  both  shall  be. 

The  landlady  she  has  got  drunk, 
And  where  is  ihe  waiting  maid  ? 
They  are  run  away, 
And  the  reckoning  is  to  pay, 
Sing  Brandy  and  ale  for  me. 

Brandy  and  ale,  &c. 

My  mother  she  is  an  old  witch, 

My  father  he  is    n  old  miser, 
I  will  rant,  I  will  roar, 
1  will  spend  all  my  store, 

And  the  world  it  shall  never  be  wist r» 

Brandy  and  ale,  &c. 

Some  people  delight  in  a  scng, 
And  that  it  ought  not  to  be  long, 

But  all  my  delight, 

Is  Sir  John  Barleycorn, 
knd  to  punch  out  the  head  of  a  barrel. 

Brandy  and  ale,  &c. 

i  married  a  wife  in  a  fog, 
X  mamed  a  wife  in  fog, 

My  wife  she  miscarried, 

And  her  soon  I  hurried, 
And  I  was  a  jolly  young  dog. 
■■^  Brandy  and  ale,  &c. 


a 

,  .'    ijj 

fl 

^ 

1 

^^^^i^m^ 

11 

11 

miIjmSwp^  •'^ 

EKV^kS,"!  nJ^T  F 

i 

IE 

1 

S! 

BHB8 

M 

;l^ 

WILLIAM 


) 


Of  the  Ferry  I 

BIRT,  Printer,  39,  Great  St.  Andrew  S^ree^ 
Seven  Dials, 

NEAR  Clyde's  gay  stream  there  dw^ll 
maid, 

Whose  mind  was  chaste  and  pure. 
Content  she  liv  d  an  humble  life, 

Belov'd  by  all  who  knew  her. 
Protected  'neath  a  parents's  roof, 

Her     me  pash'd  on  so  merry. 
She  lov'd  and  was  belovld  again. 

By  William  of  the  Ferry, 

From  morning  rise  to  set  of  sun, 

Would  William  labour  hard. 
And  hail  the  evening's  glad  return, 

How  sweet  was  his  reward. 
With  heart  so  light  unto  her  cot. 

He'd  trip  so  blythe  and  mer/y. 
All  daily  toils  were  now  forgot, 

By  William  of  the  Ferry. 

With  joy  their  parents  gave  consent, 

An  1  fix'd  the  bridal  day— 
*Ere  it  arriv'd  a  press-gang  came, 

And  press'd  poor  Will  away. 
He  found  resistance  was  in  vain, 

They  dragg'd  him  from  his  wherry  ; 
I  ne'er  shall  see  my  lone  again. 

Cried  William  of  the  Ferry, 

Loud  blew  the  angry  wind  around. 

When  scarce  a  league  from  shore, 
The  boat  upset  the  ruffian  crew,  i 

Never  so  rise  no  more  ; 
Will  fearless  brav'd  the  angry  waves, 

In  safety  of  his  wherry, 
Peace  was  proclaim 'd  &  Jane 

Wth  William  Qf  Ihe  F 


BIRD8 

OF  A 

FEATHER. 

Pfkited  byT.  BIRT,  I  r\  GreatSt.  Andre w-Stre«t 
(♦wholesale  &  retail,)  AV/j  Sevw  Dials,  LoimJod. 

fi:3r  Printing  of  every  de»cription» 

OUR  life's  a  day's  joirney  to  you  I 
will  say. 
It's  a  pleasure  with  us  to  find  out  the 

best  way. 
Through  life's  rugged  path  we  very  well 

know. 
We  must  have  our  ups  and  downs  as  we 
go- 

CHORUS. 

So  in  all  your  transactions  let  this  be 

your  plan, 
Fof  the  welUve  of  others  as  well  as  you 

can. 
Do  your  duty, love  mercy,  and  all  unite 

together. 
And  travel  through  life  like  birds  of  a 

feather. 


We  cannot  expect  every  day  in  the  year 

Will  prove  unto  us  without  trouble  or 
care. 

If  it  thunders  or  rains  let  us  never  des- 
pair. 

If  it's  stormy  to  daythe  next  maybe  fair. 


If  you  meet  with  a  female  that  has  gone 

astray. 
Or  by  some  artful  villain  deluded  away. 
Then  pity  her  weakness  and  soften  her 

pain, 
Persuade  her  to  turn  to  the  right  path 


If  you  meet  with  a  stranger  whose  way 
he  bad  lost, 

Or  through  life's  rugged  path  is  trou- 
bled and  erost. 

Take  him  home  to  your  cottage,  and 
nourish  his  blood, 

*And  cheer  up  his  spirits  with  jome- 
thing  that's  good. 


BliiT.  Printer,  39,  Great  St.  Andrew  Strtet, 
Seven  Dials, 

Oh  !   I'se  from  Lusiana,  as  >ou  must  all  kno^v, 
Dai's  whare  Jim  alon^  Josey  all  de  i^o, 
Dem  nigger  all  rise  when  de  l)e)i  doe  ring, 
And  disain  de  song  dat  dey  does  sing. 

Hey  get  along,  get  along  Josey  ; 

Hey  get  along,  Jina  along  Joe, 
*•  Hey  get  along,  get  along  Josey ; 
"  Hey  get  along,  Jim  along  Joe. 

Once  old  Jim  Crow  was  dere  all  de  go, 
Till  him  find  him  rival  in  Jim  along  Joe, 
Now  poor  old  Jim,  dey  hob  put  him  to  bed, 
And  Jim  along  Josey  hab  come  in  him  stead. 

Hey  get  along,  &c. 

Oh,  when  I  got  that  new  coat  I  expect  to  have  soon 
Likewise  de  new  pair  tiijht  knee  trousaloon, 
I'll  svalk  up  and  down  BondSlreet  wid  mySusanna 
And  in  my  mout  smoke  de  real  Habannah. 

Hey  get  along,  &c. 


Josey 


My  sisa  Rose  de  oder  night  do  dream, 
Dat  she  was  floating  up  anc)  down  de  stream; 
And  when  she  woke  she  did  bei:in  to  cry, 
'Oh,  de  white  cat  pick'd  oui;  the  blacK  cat's  eye.' 

Hey  get  along,  &c»  • 

Now  away  down  south  not  berry  far  oflF, 
De  bull-frog  die  wid  «le  hooping  cough  ; 
And  t'odder  side  de  Missippi,a8  you  must  know, 
Dare  was  whare  dey  christen  me  Jim  along  Joe? 

Hey  get  along,  &c»  J 

Dem  New  York  Nigger  tink  dey  are  so  Rfiw, 

Becau-e  dey  drink  noting  but  de  genuirft, 

But  de  poor  Kentuck  Ni'gger  when  der  day  goite 

by,  • 

Sarve  them  like  old  horse  kicked  out  to  die. 

Hej  get  along,  &c. 

Oh,  I'se  de  bold  nigger  dat  don't  mind  his  (rouble 
Ijecause  dey're  noting  more  dan  bubbles, 
De  hanibition  dat  such  nigger  feels, 
Is  shuvvmg  de  science  ob  him  heels. 

Hey  get  along,  &r. 

De   best    President    we    eber    hab    was    Gineral 

Wash'nton, 
And  de  one  we've  got  now  him  Massa  Van  Buren 
But  though  the  old  Gineral  him  long  gone  dead, 
So  long  de  country  stand,  hini  name  float  ahead.- 

Hey  get  along,  &c. 

Burling^ ton  Bay^* 

THE  rain  rain  fell  in  torrents,  the  wind  whistled 
shrill. 

The  thunder  pealed  loud  from  the  cliff. 
When  wjth  terror  the  bosom  of  Mary  wng  filled, 

As  she  thought  on  the  fisherman's  skill'. 
In  vain  near  the  Foreland,  his  tackle  to  cast, 

Plied  Robert — undaunted  he  lay  ; 
The  gentlest  of  swains  yet  in  dariut,'  the  blast, 

The  noblest  of  Burlington  Bay. 

Night  came,  not  a  moment  poor  Mary  she  slept, 

Still  louder  the  storm,  seem'd  to  roar : 
She  lay  &  she  trembled,  she  watched  &  she  wept, 

And  at  morn  bent  her  steps  to  the  shore. 
But,  ah,  what  a  heart-rending  sight, 

Broken  fragments  and  wrecks  scattered  lay, 
And  amongst  them  was  Robert,  her  hope  &  delight 

The  boldest  of  Burlington  Bay. 


CAUOI.S   LMCTURBS. 


Oil!  suth  a  jolly  gam'*  !b»"V*s  Ije.rn, 
And  Siiich  a  l^rk  vn-i  nc-vcr  sc<n, 

Tpey  <.«v  t!:a!  A xnd  ttiL-  Q . 

Aic  Mr  aod  Mrs.  0:r>jrilf  ; 
•  )iie  night  viea  Al.  ^><'.  '''u    '<  (!. 
Where  h  -.''o  you  bfeo  all  <i.iy,  sIs'-  sni.?, 
Ail  nkh*  s^-•  did  Ji  rrpo.i  liis  he.i', 

>:  X  j^g»  V'i  iis  Mrs.  Cuudle. 
IS.iinm  I  andL"n:s  l!:oV  «'■  n    ;  !l  nl;:' !, 
■u"  ii)^  awnv'i  '  fffv,  ;i 

-II  MiS'rr   A rn.l      : 

''    ,       (    ''  r  ■;.  C  li  ..1-. 

/,cl  fnonc//. 

\Vl!1  I'm  sure,  pofkef  nioiiey  iu- 
<.'I !  did  evtrtiiiy person  hear  ot  such 
:,'.;s;irdily.  ^^'!»y  A!'oe,rf,  yim  oy.^h\ 
10  i)«asha'.;i*'i' <jt  yriii>elf.  You  lu  ly 
wcil  s^.y  pu,)r.!oh!)  ;'  .11.  John  Buli 
be  one  good  fellow.  You  may  well  s:iy 
that  Al.,  experieucc- makes  f  'Is  vvi:!.c; 
uud  when  you  came  from  Germany  you 
ha'l  not  got  as  much  as  would  I)  .it  n 


coat  government.  How  dare  you 
presume  to  fnk  me  in  that  clandestine 
sort  of  a  mann*^r.  Beg  niv  pardon, 
you  rip.sC'il!ion,  you  are  fond  ai  bcg- 
gwg  lil-.e  all  your  country  people. 
Yo!i  '.avc  beggi^d  plenty  I  think.  You 
lirsl  came  ;•  begging  for  a  uil'e,  and 
then  i':x'r  mouey,  and  now  for  time  to 
•-'pend  it.  oo  to  Germany  will  you  > 
You  may  go  to  .Jericho  if  you  like, 
there  are  more  hnsbunds  in  En;;rlaiid» 
than  p;nish  chwrchev.  And  tell  nie 
.\l.,  what  do  you  think  of  doiog  i.i 


G 


y?    Do 


ynu  think  you  will 
find  as  big  a  fooi  as  old  John  'lull. 
Deal  in  s;iiis,  ges  will  you  ?  You  don't 
like  nursir.g  cliildren  don't  you  }  and 
pray  whet  i.s  ihe  reason  of  t'.at  .%!r. 
Nincoir.pofip.  Wet  yo;:r  troiiser*,  eh  ! 
Well  i  detd,  I  think  you  ou,::;ht  to  be 
very  thai;kful  you  h  ive  any  (roiisers 
to  wet.  Why,  you  hid  never  a  rail 
mouse  trap.     I  made  a  gentlem  v.i  of    to  your  shirt  when  1  married  you,  and 


you,  put  clothes  on  your  back  an:j 
money  iu  your  pocket  ;  ami  now  you 
have  the  impudence  to  iisk  for  more 
pocket  money.  You  help  k;>ep  ihe 
children  >  well  I'm  sure.  Y<m  may 
help  get  them  Al.,  ai^l  th  it  is  all  you 
care  about  ihn  matter  ;  and  now  have 
the  injpudt  nc;;  to  ask  fur  more  pocket 
money,  i  cm  take  aiy  oath  that  you 
never  bought  them  as  much  as  a  pound 
of  four.penny  half  penny  sau.sages, 
.>;  nee  they  were  born  ;   i  have  not  for 


now  you  have  more  shiits  ihau  you 
know  wh.;t  to  do  with,  aud  which 
neier  cost  jou  a  single  f.irthing.  Cut 
up  two  of  yoii'-  sliirts  fur  ti;:nkins. 
An!  >^!ii>l  if  i  di.i,  hivo  I  noi.  a  right 
to  do  as  1  like  withiimy  own  .''  I  tell 
you  what  it  is  Ar.,  you  have  got  too 
f;it  and  too  saucy  since  you  have  re- 
sided at  the  Crown  Inn.  Did  1  not 
make  you  a  hushand,  and  then  did  I 
not  make  you  a  father,  and  have  not 
I  made  you  a  soldier,  and  yon  being 


got  the  gin  dunking  nurse  yet  Mister    not  satisfied  with  that,  made  yourself 
Al.    And  pray  what  do  you  want  more    a  farmer?  and  now  you  talk  of  making 


money  for,  eh  }  'Vr.  hay  dunkt  ys  eh 
and  pray  why  do  you  want  donkeys  ? 
have  you  nothorsesr.nd  cnrringrs,  and 
hulls,"and  cows,  haveyoa  iiuJ  gui  pgs, 
and  wheelharro\v.<!,  and  corks,  and 
hens,  and  drakes,  and  ducks,  and 
ganders,  and  goosts,  and  shtf  p,  and 
goats,  and  \v-igTor;s.  and  cartR,  and 
turkeys,  and  pheasants.,  and  hav.^  you 
uot  got  plenty  to  eat,  and  lo  drink, 
and  good  clothes  to  wear,  a  good  bed 
to  lie  on,  a  sweel  little  wiie  to  cuddle 
you,  two  r.tile  boys,  and  two  pretty 
little  girls,  and  i-.<>t  c*inl  r.tt'd.  Oh  ! 
Al,  you  ongltl  lo  be  j..shanjeil  of  your. 
self.you  ought  indeed ;  p<ickei  moiity, 

well  I'm  sure. 

llain.uer  .-.lid  nmn;s,  &c. 

2.      /Ili^rt  corner  home  half-dn- 
honr  later  ihav  iisitnl. 
time  this   to  b 


A  pretty 


coming 


yourself  a  fool,  by  running  liway  and 
leaving  all  the  good  ihings  this  coun- 
try can  afford  behind  you.  Remember 
Al.  befort".  yon  attempt  to  go,  there's 
plenty  of  hungry  mouths  and  enipfcy 
pockets  in  Germany,  and  no  mistake. 

H:!i?imar  and  tonf^y,  (Sci-. 

?i.     Albert  wifihes  to  go  to  Ireland 

Go  lo  Ireland  did  you  say  Al.,  1 
tell  you  I  won't  go  to  Ireland.  I  shant 
go  to  Ireland,  1  shall  tijo  where  I  please 
and  do  as  I  like.  What  do  ]  care  for 
King  Dan  and  the  poor  Irish  ;  Old 
Nosey  says  don't  go,  Bobby  says 
shant  go,  and  1  say  down  right  blank 
I  won't  go.  Went  to  Scotland?  1 
know  I  did,  and  good  cause  1  have  to 
remember  it,  for  you  was  gadding 
about  with  the  Scottish  girls.  Only 
kissed  four  did  you  ?  How  dare  you 
kiss  liny  you  good  for  nothing  son  of 


bQ|ne,  I  am  determined  to  know  where  j  a  horse  trough.     Went  all  over  Eng- 
you  hav«  been  to  until  this  unreason-     ■      '  ■  •.  ^   . 

able  hour  of  the  night  ;  and  if  I  find 
yon  h  ive  been  in  aay  bad  company  1 
will  beat  you  round  the  hou-e  till  you 
holloa  cabbage,  and  order  my  servants 
to  lock  you  up  all  nit;lit  in  the  coal 
4)ole.     Don't  talk  to  me  about  petti - 


land  last  summer  ?  To  be  sure  we  did, 
and  have  we  not  got  a  delight  I  ul 
residence  in  the  Isle  of  Wight ;  did 
we  not  sjiil  around  Spithtad  and  view 
the  Fleet.  What  did  you  say,  Isle  of 
Wight.  I  say  the  Isle  of  Germany  is 
not  a  patch  on  the  Isle  ot   Wight. 


Would  you   not  like  to  go  among  th® 
blooming   lasses   of  Portsmouth   and 

;  Gospojf,  and   f^arenp  now  and  then  ? 

I  No.  I  know  belter;  but  I  will  order 
tlie  policemen  to  have  a  sharp  look 
out  after  you,  and  if  I   catch  you  up 

j  to  any  of  your  roguery,  by  all  the 
sausage  puddings  that  over  growed  in 

j  Germany,  I  will  beat  you  round  the 
Isleof  Wight  till  your  head  is  as  black 
as  a  Norfolk  dumpling.  Lovely  Vic, 
did  you  say  ?  I  say  lovely  Albert. 
No,  I  shant  sleep,  1  won't  sleep,  and 
you  shant  sleep.  111  take  cj  re  of  that. 
Will  I  catch  cold  sitting  up  in  the  bed, 
what  odds  is  that  to  you  ?  No  !  the 
bogs  don't  bite  neither  ;  there  never 
was  such  bugs  in  this  country  as  the 
German  bugs,  they  can  bite  well,  for 
they  have  bit  poor  old  John  Bull  until 
he  is  sore.  Hold  my  tongue  ?  How 
dare  you  endeavour  to  controul  me. 
No  A  I.,  as  long  as  ever  I  am  a  woman 
I  will  be  master  ;  and  as  long  ss  I 
have  a  tongue  I  will  bedroom  lecture 
you  on  your  behaviour  ;  as  long  as  1 
have  fingers  1  will  scratch,  and  as  long 
as  I  have  a  leg  to  stand  upon  1  will  be 
obeyed  ;  and  further  Al.,  I  will  insist 
on  an  act  being  parsed,  that  no  woman 
in  my  dominions  shall  be  kept  under 
by  her  husband  ;  put  that  in  your 
pipe  and  smoke  it. 

Hammer  and  tougK,  &c. 

4.      Vic.  agrees  to  visit  Germany 

Why,  as  for  going  to  Germany  Al., 
I  have  no  great  objection,  but  I  must 
inform  you  that  1  have  little  presents 
to  make  to  your  ra_gged  relations. 
Ragged  relations.  Yes,  ragged  re- 
lations, what  else  can  you  call  them. 
Why  some  of  them  have  not  as  much 
clothes  on  their  back,  as  would  make 
a  bug  a  mackintosh.  Don't  tell  me 
it  is  false  ;  why,  when  I  married  you 
it  was  out  of  ctiarity.  You  had  nei- 
ther shoes  or  stockings  on  your  feet_. 
and  the  best  article  you  had  was  a 
fifteen-penny  hat.  Uncle  Coburg. 
What  is  uncle  Coburg  to  me  ?  or 
Uncle  Humbug,  or  Aunt  Wittenbug, 
or  Cousin  Stolfenbug.  1  tell  you 
they  are  a  ragged  lot  altogether. 
Don't  tell  me  about  sour  crout  and 
German  sausages  Al.,  you  may  put 
them  up  if  you  like.  I'm  off  to  Ger- 
many, but  mind  Al.,  I  take  my  own 
victuals  in  my  pocket,  and  if  I  stay 
there  a  month,  foolish  old  John  Bu'* 
must  pay  my  expences.  Woe 
German  beasts  jump  to  hear  me 
you  Al.,  sing  Rule  Britannia,  aau 
O,  the  Roast  Beef  of  Old  England,  the 
Roast  Beef  of  Old  England,  huzza  ! 

Hammer  and  tongs,  &r, 

John   Morgan. 


BIRT,  Primer,  39.    Great   St.  Androw  Street.)  Seven  Dial.s,  London 


ruB 


m 


Word  .  f  A  d  vice.  Stage  of  Life. 


Printed  by  T.BIRT,  I  |^  Great  St. Andrew-Strecl 
wholesale  and  retail,  '   Seven  Dials,  London 

i  Country  Orders  punctually  attended  U». 

V     Every  description  of  Printing  on  rea^sonablc  terms. 


C^OME  all  sporting:  hnsbandjj,  wherever  yoM  be, 
^  In  hig'h  life,  OT  low  life,  ofeveiy  degree, 
A  word  of  advice  I  am  o-ojng  to  pen, 
ll's  g"Ood  for  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men. 

Derry  down. 

Some  men  when  they're  married  are  spending-  iheir  Hi'es 
In  drinking  and  traraing,  and  beating  their  wires. 
But  when  that  the  days  ©f  their  bloom  it  is  past. 
It  only  brings  sorrow  and  shame  at  the  last. 

To  the  public  they  go  then  without  dread  or  fear, 
With  a  pipe  and  a  pot  ofgood  ale  or  strong  beer, 
Tho'  the  landlord  will  serve  you,  and  come  at  your  call 
When  you  money's  all  gone,  he'll  laugh  at  your  downf 

With  the  money  you  fake  him  he>  filling  his  bags. 
While  your  own  family  are  clothed  in  rags, 
There'd  the  bes.t  roast  and  boii'd  to  his  table  is  broiigl 
While  your  wife  and  children  eat  potatoes  and  salt. 

There's  the  landladies'  also,  liko  dolls  at  a  fair, 
With  silk  gown  and  lace  cap  are  stuck  in  the  bar, 
Is  it  not  a  shame  such  things  should  be  said, 
While  your  o\Yn  wile  lias  scarcely  a  cap  to  her  head. 

Now  all  the  week  long  while  spending  your  money, 
They'll  caress  you  with  words  that  are  sweeter  than  hoo* 
But  when  for  to  please  them  you  have  spent  it  all, 
You'll  find  that  their  noncy's  as  bitter  as  g-all. 

Strong;  ale  at  the  first  it  was  sent  for  our  good. 
To  strengthen  our  bodies,  and  nourish  our  bloo'  , 
13ut  drank  to  excess,  why  it  must  be  confess'd, 
It  oftentimes  makes  a  man  worse  than  a  beast 

rho'  others  should  drink,  and  spend  all  that  they  can, 
That's  no  reason  why  you  should  act  the  same  plan, 
Tho'  they  swear,  lie.  swagger,  and  drink  till  they  bort 
lie  advised  and  think  on  your  own  family  first. 

Now  if  you  should  owe  them  a  shilling  or  two. 
You  quickly  will  find  them  look  very  blue, 
But  if  you  have  money  your  reckoning-  to  pay. 
It's  thank  you,  kind  sir,  you're  welcome  to  me. 

So  all  rakish  husbands  who  are  given  to  roam, 
I'd  havo  you  think  belter  for  the  time  to  come. 

Look  well  to  yourself,  your  children,  and  wife,      ^v> 
^Tien  you  may  li«\'e  happy  the  rest  of  your  life.      '■■'' 


Printed  byT.BIRT,|  1^  Great  St.  Andrew-Street, 
wholesale  and  retail,       ^-^?  Seven  Dials,  Ix)i>doB. 

Country  Orders  punctually  attended  to. 
Every  description  of  Printing  on  reasonable  tcrnM. 

^^OOD  people  all  I  pray  draw  near, 

^JK  And  listen  unto  me. 

And  when  you  Ijear  what  I  relate. 

With  me  you  will  aj^ree. 
We  soon  must  bid  the  world  adieu, 

1  he  rich  as  well  as  poor. 
Neither  «;old  nor  silver  can  i;ive  health. 

Or  ease  ihe  brow  of  care. 

Come  all  you  worthy  Enj^lishmen, 

That  dwells  both  tar  and  near. 
And  assist  each  oilier  in  time  of  need 

And  live  in  friendship  here; 
For  soon  we  may  be  culled  hence, 

W  here  tliousiiru's  are  gone  before. 
There's  no  distinction  in  the  grave. 

Between  the  rich  and  poor. 

There  are  Ihe  ^reat  and  mighty  men 

Kings  and  Princes  loo. 
They  all  must  be  consign'd  to  death. 

And  bid  this  world  adieu. 
Go  search  the  tombs  where  Monarchs 
rest. 

And  then  it  will  be  found. 
Their  wealth  and  glory   is  bereft — 

Once  men  of  high  renown. 

Come  all  you  worthy  Englishmen, 

The  truth  yoii  can't  deny, 
I  hope  each  other  you  will  befriend. 

And  each  other's  wants  supply  ; 
To  assist  your  neighbours  in  distress. 

It  is  your  duty  so  to  do. 
But  the  world  is  now  at  such  a  pass, 

Such  friends  you  find  but  few. 

This  world  is  but  a  stage  of  life. 

Where  we  walk  up  and  down. 
In  searching  for  a  place  of  rest. 

But  none  can  there  be  found. 
This  life  is  like  a  ship  at  sea. 

By  waves  toss'd  up  and  down. 
We  hope  to  find  a  place  of  rest. 

When  the  lasttpumpet  sound. 


.SBgfetaMgfa'^gT- 


BIRT,  Prltiter,    0.  Great    Si     \nirew   Sireet. 
S(  veil  Dials,  Lojulo!) 

OH,  tioA-  I  come  before  y<»«. 

To  sin-?  a  liitk?  song, 
I  plays  upon  de  bunjo, 

And  dey  call  it  Lucy  Long. 

So  take  your  time  Miss  Lucy, 

Miss  Lucy,  Lucy,  Lucy  Long, 
So  tHke  youi-  time  Miss  Lucy, 

Miss  Lucy,  Lucy,  Lucy  Long. 

Miss  Lucy  sbe's  so  handsome. 

Miss  Lucy  sbe's  so  strong, 
She  is  so  berry  suucy, 

Because  she  is  so  young. 

So  take  your  time,  &c. 

Her  waist  it  is  so  slender, 

Just  like  de  ball  of  cotton, 
Her  mouth  from  ear  to  eur, 

It  neber  be  forgotten. 

So  take  your  time,  &c. 

Her  teeth  they  are  so  pretty, 

Just  like  de  ear  of  corn. 
Her  eyes  they  are  so  i-illing, 

I  wish  I  ne'er  was  born. 

So  take  your  time,  &c. 

Her  face  It  is  so  shining, 

Just  lil<e  de  polished  boot, 
Her  figure  is  so  chaimiug, 

Just  like  de  bull  of  snot. 

So  take  your  time,  &c. 

And  when  she  goes  to  trabel, 

She  leaves  behind  de  mark, 
Of  her  footstep  in  de  grabel, 

You  may  feel  him  in  de  dark. 

So  take  your  time,  &c. 

If  1  ^H^i^plding  vvife, 

As^^BPshe  was  horn, 
I'd  take  her  down  to  New  Orleans, 

And  trade  her  away  tur  corn. 

So  take  your  time,  Sec, 

\  as'  ed  her  for  to  marry, 

1  asUed  the  other  day. 
She  i'aid  she'd  rather  tarry, 

So  I  let  her  have  her  away. 

So  take  your  time,  he. 


ERIN  GO  BRAG 

BllCI',  Printer,    39,  Gieat    Si.     Vudrevt    Street. 
>?ve!i  Diais,   Lfindon. 

MY  name  is  Pat  Murphy,  I'll  never  deny, 
J've  travelled  the  country  for  m  uiy  a  long  day. 
Through  England,  through  Ireland,  and  Scotland 

and  a', 
And  the  name  that  1  go  by  is  Erin  go  Bragh. 

As  I  was  walking  up  White  Chapel  Street, 

A  saucy  policeman  1  chanced  for  to  meet, 

He  look'd  and  he  star'd  and  he  gave  me  some  javr, 

Says  he,  when  came  you  over  from  Erin  go  Brugh« 

It's  I  am  no  Paddy  tho'  to  Ireland  I've  been, 
Fath  I  am  no  Paddy  tho'  Ireland  I've  seen, 
And  if  a  Paddy  faith  what's  that  to  you, 
There  is  many  a  hero  from  Erin  go  Bragh. 

I  know  your  a  Pat  by  the  twist  of  your  hair, 
But  you  always  turn  Scotchman  when  you  comt 

here. 
You  have  left  your  own  country  for  breaking  the  la«r 
I  am  seizing  all  stragglers  from  Erin  go  Bragh. 

With  a  lump  of  black  thorn  that  I  held  at  my  fist, 
All  round  his  big  body  I  made  it  to  twist, 
The  blood  from  his  napper  I  quickly  did  draw, 
With  a  lump  of  shillelagh  from  Erin  go  Bragh. 

The  folks  they  flocked  round  me  like  a  lot  of  young 

geese, 
Saying  where's  the  wild  Irishman  that's  killed  our 

police. 
Where  I  had  got  one  friend  I'm  sure  he'd  got  two, 
But  I  pla\ed  them  a  tune  they  call  Erin  go  Bragh« 

There  is  a  little  packet  sails  off  to  the  North, 
ril  pack  up  my  bones  and  1*11  shortly  be  off, 
Bad  luck   to  ail  racketty  policeman  and  a*. 
To  the  devil  I'll  pitch  them,  said  Erin  go  Ek'agh* 


P 11 E  T  T  Y  jjj 

SUSAN  ill 

The  Pride  of  Kildare.        I  \| 


M 


li 


(^; 


^ 


When  first  fFom  sea  I  landed,  J  had  a  roving  mind, 
Undaunted  I  rambled  my  true  love  to  find, 
When  I  met  pretty  Susan  with  her  cheeks  like  a  ron 
And  her  bosom  more  fairer  than  lillies  that  grows. 

I!er  keen  eyes  did  glitter  as  the  bright  gtar  of  night. 
-^nd  the  robes  she  was  wearing  was  costly  and  while 
Her  ba  e  neck  was  shaded  with  hei  long  raven  hair. 
They  call  her  pretty  Susan  the  pride  of  Kildaic 

long  time  her  1  courted  till  I'd  wasted  my  store, 
llcr  lore  turned  to  hatred  because  1  was  poor, 
She  s.iid  I  love  another  whose  fortune  I'll  share, 
>o  bogone  from  pretty  Susan  the  pride  of  Kildare. 

0  my  heart  asked  next  morning  as  J  lonely  did  suay, 

1  espied  pretty  Susan  with  a  young  lord  so  gay, 
And  as  I  passed  by  them  with  my  mind  full  of  care , 
I  sighed  for  pretty  Susan  the  pride  of  Kildare. 

Once  more  on  the  ocean  I  resolved  for  to  go. 

And  was  boi;nd  to  the  east  with  my  heart  full  of  woe, 

'J'here  I  beheld  ladies,  in  jewels  so  rare. 

Bat  none  like  prettySusan  the  pride  of  Kikhire. 

S  omelimei)  1  am  jovial  and  sometimes  I  am  <-d(], 

Siuce     '^    lovp  is  ronrtt'<l  1)V  some  other  lad. 

And  sin<'('  wt'  art?  at  a  distance  no  more  I'll  dcsjuiii, 

So  my  i>lessn)i?s  on  my  Si;s;ui  the  pride  of  Kild-ftre. 

\\.V\  i.N'J  ~ 

Ceieeii^'God  Tre«. 

Now  by  the  wiuinn-  iireeinvood  trtc, 

AVe  iiif ny  nieirv  \varri()r,s  roam  ; 
Carcles  and  jovial  ever  tree 

We  bail  our  native  borne. 
We  roam  beneatb  fair  Cyntbia's  lig-ht, 

Or  biding-  in  the  shade, 
Telling-  soft  tales  of  rue  delight, 

To  sonic  lovely  woodland  maid. 

Now  by  tbe  waving,  <\c. 

Now  by  tbe  waving  greenwood  tree. 

We  merry,  merry  warriors  roam  : 
Careless  and  jovial  ever  free, 

We  bail  our  native  home. 
We  quaff  not,  we  quaft'not  the  red,  re  (i  ^\  ine 

But  our  nut-brown  ale  is  good, 
For  the  song  and  the  dance  of  the  guat 
we  ne'er  pine,  rude. 

While  the  rough   wine — our  clioristers 


^'i<:^!^^«-^M^I-^^^^^^A.^''ic6^  k^-^  ^3^ 


*HE 


THE 


piritof  theStorm      Mioufe  Qim  at  Sea. 

rinted  byT.BlRT,  1  |^  Croat  St. Aiidrevv-Sueet, 
nhoksale  and  retail,  ■■  ^^J  Sevcii  Dials,  London. 


Ceunlry  Orders  pnncttially  alttndcd  to. 

Every  description  of  Prin;int(  on  reasonable  terms. 

Children's  Books,  Baiiledorts,  Pictures,  ike. 

RECITATIVE. 

AT  sight  of  each  terrific  form, 
All  trembling,  &  with  fear  opprest 
The  halcyon  quits  her  sea- built  nest, 
Prophetic  of  a  coming-  storm 
To  desolate  a  smiling  huul.  • 

AIR. 

Loud  roars  the  spirit  of  tiie  storm, 

Their  breasts  the  angrv  billows  r(.\ar; 
Bursting  their  boiuids,  they  seem  to  arm 

And  battle  with  the  murky  air; 
The  mariner  then  calmly  feels 

jllie  perils  of  his  iiapless  state, 
Before  high  heaven  he  tremblingkneels. 

And  to  his  Will  resigns  his  fate, 
Through  horrors  rise  upon  his  view, 
Resolv'd  to  steer  the  vessel  true.  ^ 

Hoarse  brays  the  trumpet's  throat — the' 

while 
The  fiends  of  war  their  fire-brands  shake 
And  Carnage  on  some  burning  pile, 

Sits  brooding  o'er  an  empire's  wreck  ; 
•Tis  then  the  soldier's  manly  heart 

To  home  one  tear-drop  doth  bequeath 
Bends  to  that  Power  tiuit  points  the  dart 

Just  midway  'twixt  life  and  death. 
Tho'  horrors  rise  upon  his  view, 
Resolv'd  to  fight  the  battle  true. 

MouDtain  Maid. 

^THHE  Mountain  Maid  from  her  bower  has  hied, 
•■■    And  speed  to  the  glassy  river's  side, 
Where  the  radiant  mead  shone  clear  and  bright, 
Aad  the  willows  wav'd  in  the  silver  li^ht, 
Oa  a  mossy  bank  lay  a  shepherd  swain, 
He  woke  his  pipe  to  tuneful  strain, 
And  so  blythelygay  were  the  notes  he  play'd. 
That  he  charm'd  the  ear  of  (he  Mountain  Maid. 

Sihe  step'd  with  timid  fear  oppress'd. 
While  soft  sighs  swell  her  gentle  breast, 
He  caught  her  glance,  and  mark'u  her  sigh, 
^Lnd  triumph  laugh'd  in  his  sparkling  aye. 
^o  softly  sweet  vvas  the  tuneful  ditty, 

]q  charm'd  her  tender  heart  to  pity  ; 

Vnd  so  blithely  gay  were  the  notes  he  play'd, 

:''hat  he  ffain'd  the  heart  of  the  Mountain  Mai<i. 


Printed  by  T    BI  RT,  "j  f\    Great  St.  Andrew-Street, 
(wliolesaif  and  retail.)  -*-  ^^9      Seven  Dials,  Loinion, 

Couniry  Orders  punctnaliy  attended  to. 

Every  (lcscri|)tii)n  of  Printing' on  the  niosi  reasonable  termi 

Chiiiiren's  Bowks,  Batilciiores,  Pictures,  &e. 

WHEN  in  tlie  storm  on  Albion's  coast. 
The  night-watch  guards  ]jis  weary 
post. 
From  tlioughts  of  danger  free  : 
He  marks  some  vessel's  dusky  form, 
And  liears,  amid  the  Jiowling  storm, 
Tiie  minute-gun  at  sea. 

Swift  on  the  shore  a  hardy  few 

The  life-boat  man  with  a  gallant  crew. 

And  dare  the  dangerous  wave  •' 
Through  the  wild  surf  they  cleave  their  w»ay 
Lost  in  the  foam,  nor  know  dismay. 

For  they  go  the  crew  to  save. 

But,  oh!  what  rapture  fills  each  breast, 
Of  the  hopeless  crew  of  the  ship  distress'd  ( 
Then,  landed  safe,  what  joy  to  tell 
Of  all  the  dangers  that  befel . 

Then  heard  is  no  more, 

By  the  watch  on  the  shore. 
The  minute-gun  at  sea. 


Oh  I  say  not  Woman's  Love  k 
Bought. 

OH  I  say  not  Woman's  love  is  bougiit, 
With  vain  and  empty  treasure. 
Oh  !  say  not  Woman's  heart  is  caugbt 

By  every  idle  pleasure  ; 
When  first  her  gentle  bosom  knows 

Love's  flame,  it  wanders  never, 
Deep  in  her  heart  the  passion  glows, 
8he  loves,' and  loves  for  ever. 

Oh  !  say  not  woman's  false  as  fair. 

That  like  the  bee  she  ranges  ; 
Still  seeking  flowers  more  sweet  aiid  rare 

As  fickle  fancy  changes ; 
Ah,  no !  the  love  that  first  can  w^arm. 

Will  leave  her  bosom  never, 
N^Q.  second  passion  e'er  can  charm, 

She  loves,  and  loves  foi-iever  ! 


MOTHER 

Give  your  Boy  a  Kiss. 

BIRT,    Printer,  39,  Great   ijt.   Andrew    Sirret, 
beven  Dials. 

^Mollicr,  Molher,  give  your  hov  ;i  kiss. 

And  calnj  tliis  angry  riot,  this  riot ; 
De;^rcst  Mother,  dear  mother,  'Iwould  f><-  bliss, 

I'm  for  peace  and  quiet,  I'm  for  j  eac  t- utul  quiet 
I^ike  gossamer  Ihis  hcarl  mother, 

Mowe'er  you  would  resfrjiin, 
Wbcfi  angry  storms  blow  over, 

Mollier,  will  rise  and  float  again. 

Molher,  Molhir,  &c. 

Mother,  Mother,  I'm  young  and  gay. 

And  cannot  yield  to  sorrow, 
Molher,  my  spring  of  lile  is  in  ils  May, 

Kill   care  uniil   to   morrow,   kill  care^until  (o- 
morrow. 
My  heart  is  like  this  cork,  mother, 

If  cast  upon  I  he  main, 
I  hoiigli  detp  it  sink  awhdc  molher, 

■rwill  rise  an<l  floiit  again. 

Mother,  Molher,  $ic. 

CHILD  OF  EARTH 

WITH    THE 

Child  of  Earth  with  (he  golden  hair, 
Thy. soul's  too  pure,  and  (l;y  face  to  fair. 
To  dwell  with  creatures  of  mortal  moidd 
Whose  lips  are  warm  as  their  hearts  are  C(-tld 
Hoam,  ro.im,  (o  your  fairy  home. 
Child  of  Earth  with  iLc  gidden  hair. 

Thou  shak  dance  with  the  faiiy  queen, 
Tlirough  Summers's  nightson  the  moonlight  green 
'I  o  music  murmuring  sweeter  far 
Than  ever  was  heard  'neath  the  morning  star. 

Roam,  roam,  &c. 

I'll  rob  of  its  sweet  ths  bumble  bee, 
I'll  crush  the  wine  from  the  cowslip  tree, 
i'il  pull  the  berries,  Til  trap  the  bed, 
Of  downy  moss  and  popies  red. 

Roam,  roam,  &c. 

Dim  sleep  shall  woo  thee  my  darling  boy,    j 
In  her  mildest  moods  with  dreams  of  joy, 
And  when  with  the  morning  ends  her  reign, 
Pleasure  shall  bid  thee  welcome  again. 

RQ»m,  roam,  S^e, 


Ql^ZBi£lti* 


ilose  of  Cajshmere 


BlUr,  Printer,   39,    Great  St.    Andrew   -Street. 
Seven    Dials. 

By  the  flower  of  the  valley, 

All  hendiiij^  with  dew — 
By  the  sweet  water-lily 

Of  exquisite  blue — 
I3y  the  bright  sky  above  us, 

All  cloudless  mid  clear, 
I  love  lltoe,  I  love  thee. 

Sweet  rose  of  Cashmere. 

Vonng  Bella  of  Paradise, 

Siiadow  of  light, 
Sweet  anj^el  of  brighter  skies, 

Blesi  biMUg  brigijt, 
Oh,  rest  thee  or  roam, 

rhotrit  ever  be  dear, 
For  I  love  thee,  1  love  thee. 

Sweet  rose  of  Cashmere. 

By  that  glossy  black  hair, 

And  thy  bright  beamiuij:  eye — 
By  the  bloom  on  thy  cheeks, 

Which  the  roses  outvie, 
By  the  foot-^teps  of  lightness. 

That  mocks  the  wild  deer, 
1  love  thee,  1  love  thee, 

Sweet  rose  of  Cashmere. 


riiiiU'i  by  T    BIRT,  1   /\    GreKt  Si.   Atidiev. -.SL.vel, 
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I  ^\E  morn  when  the  wind  o'er  the  ocean  skiuj'd 
lightly. 


PrinttNlby  T.BIRT,-|  /^    Oreat  Si.  Andr^w-Street 
■whoU-s!\le  and  relail,       ^^   Stven  Did!*,  London. 

Ceuntry  Orders  punctually  attended  to. 
Every  description  of  Prinlinj;  on  reascHaide  terms. 


jet 


And  the.^urge  slowly  rippled  againstthe  paiid  shore 
m-WT-  SB  1    m /!7  ^''I'H  Hawser,  a  fisherman,  bold  and  built  tightly, 

▼  V   Ofhd  I  rlJl  f  I     IW     -rfi  ir»"%^  '*'  «^P'*>''^1  l''s  trim  skiff,  as  he"d  oft  done  helore  ; 

w^    •v^^VAidC/fiRVC    IV^caiJ    ,      Bui  his  Nancy  to  whom  he  scarce  a  week  had  been 

shackled, 
f^plt  a  dread  at  the  parting,  and  prayM  he'd  remain 
l!f>  -^mii'dat  her  fears, cried  I'm  well  rigi;j*'d&  (ackled, 
fc-re  ni^ht-tali  my  Nancy  shall  see  me  aj^ain 

Round  his  neck  with  a  heart  of  foreboding  his  \\jie 
hung. 

He  kjystd  the  salt  tear  from  her  cheek,  bade  adieu. 
r'oiPd  bis  nets  and  onboard  his  skiff  with  life  sprung, 

Hoisted  sail,  waved  his  hand,  &  acceded  from  view 
Si  cce-s  crowned  his  efforts  beyond  far  his  looking, 

And  he  whistled  and  sung  in  the  praise  of  his  Na» 
His  net  lines  and  tackle  he  presently  took  in, 

l''>cked  about  and  homeward  with  full  sail  he  ran. 

Biu  ine  winds  quickly  veering — the  clouds  thickened 
heavy,  i 

The  rain  poured  in  torrentsand  loud  thunder  roar'd 
'Ihe  billows  rolled  high,  and  the  lighting  was  vivid, 

The  mast  it  was  shivered  and  went  by  the  board  ; 
1  lien  poor  Hawser  in  vain,  as  practice  advised  him, 

Strove  to  govern  thesk  iff  which  he  found  leaky  grew 
H^-uth  stared  in  his  face  and  a  wave  soon  capsized  him 

His  last  word.s  were,    ''  dear  Nancy,  thy  fears  were 
too  true." 

A  nijjht  of  distraction  poor  Nancy  passed  o'er 

Blue  burnt  the  flame,  and  her  heart  foudly  beat, 
As  day  broke  she  hastened  to  traverse  the  sea  shru'C 

Bare  headed,  in  hopes  her  dear  Hawser  to  meet. 
A  form  by  the  waves  newly  thrown  she  spied  out 

A  form  too  vv  ell  known,  'twas  her  Haws-er  so  brave 
She  ffll  on  his  breast  kissed  his  cold  lips  &  sighed  out 

Tis  ihy  bosom  my  Hawser  ahaii  be  thy  Nan  s  grave 

Now  the  news  \va&  ?oon  spread  &  the  beach  quick»5 
crowded. 

To  see  the  fate  af  this  couple  ro  true, 
F<rer.v  heart  felt  a  pang  cverybrow  th'  re  was  clouded 

The  tear  drop  of  pity  each  cheek  did  bedew  ; 
Te  the  grave  they  were  borne  as  his  bosoHs  she  died  on 

<^^heek  to  cheek,   heart  to  heart,  in  the  dust  they 
laid  ^ere, 
And  the  mast  of  thewreckat  their  head  was  inscribed  op 

**  iHere  iicw  Harry  llawsear  and  Nancj  his  dea*,** 


WITH   .sloe  black   eyes,    and 
black  hair, 
And  clieekslike  roses,  &  arms  all  hiire. 
With  cheeks  so  white,  and  diinplt;  chiu 
A  hosoru  (air,  and  pure  within, 
A  small  straw  hat,  so  loosely  ticJ 
A  little  baisket  by  her  side, 
All  fill'ri  vvith  berries  red  and  blut:« 
And  little  buds  of  many  a  hue, 
She  stepp'd  as  liji^ht  as  any  fairy, 
I  met  \Uii  little  Woodland  Mary. 

If  yon,  sweet  maid>  will  come  wi;h  roe, 
]My  little  servant  for  to  be. 
And  those  soft  notes  you  sweetly  sin^, 
ilepeat  uiito  my  nurseling  youn<J^, 
And  leave  tho«e  hills  so  bleak  and  wild 
To  ninse  and  tend  my  darlinoj  child, 
I'o  /-heiiish  her  1  fondly  love-; 
And  if  to  her  you'll  lender  prove, 
jAtid  o'er  her  tender  steps  be  wary, 
3il  treasure  you,  my  Woodland  M.ar 

O  l.ady,  listen  to  my  tale 
Aivti  iet  my  sirpiple  words  prevail, 
"My  mother's  old,  she's  lame  and  poor, 
And  i-carce  can  walk  unto  the  door; 
Vnd  trie  she  loves,  her  only  joy, 
S:<e  has  no  other  girl  or  boy  ; 
Av\d,  while  she  lives,  with  her  I'll  stay, 
Aui  think  of  you  when  faraway  ; 
^hc  fe'i^ys  tlie  grave  will  .rest  the  we*iry, 
Ami  then  I'll  be  j©ur  Woodland  Mary. 


U2. 


THE  DEVILS 

IN  THE  6IRL. 


Jt.'s  of  a  lusty  gentleman  returning  from  the  play,  *^ 

He  knock'd  at  his  true  loves,  that  ni^ht  witlj  lier  to  J^ 

'ay,  .        (<ielight,  f 

S!ie  qijK  kly  let  in  this  young  man  &  called  him  her  ^ 

Saving,  roll  me  in   your  arms  love,    and  lay    until  J^ 

morning  light.  ^ 

This  fair  maid  was  a  crafty  jade  she  unto  him  did  ^ 

say,  (ihe  plav,  ^ 

What  did  pieose  you  mostofalU  when  you  was  at  «^ 

He  said  I  learnt  a  tune  love,  forget  it  I  ne'er  shall  '** 

Air]  it's  called  a  merry  tune,  the  devil's  in  tlie  «irl.  ^ 

0  kiud  sir,  lets  liear  that  tune,  if  you  your  fife  can  %, 

,  .  ^'!^>''  .  '        ^         W 

1  will  listen  with  attention  so  tune  up  now  I  pray  ^ 
Tiie  lound  it  was  so  beautiful,  &■  plea-ed  Iser  so  well,  ^ 
It's>  all  niffht  i'll  lay  if  you  p'ay  the  devils  in  theuirl  'SM 
The  Sound  tiwoke  the  mother  upon  the  second  floor  ^ 
W  liu  run  down  iu  her  bedgown  and  like  a  l)ull  did  ^ 

roar,  [ri^'ht  well,    ^ 

She  spoi  t  the  young  mans  music  she  pummerdhim  f^r 
Then  .-aid  the  jade  he  only  played  ihe  devil's  in  the   ^ 

rbis  youug  man  quickly  left  them,  his  journey  to  ^ 

pnr-ue,  [iy  giew,  ^ 

Buc  mark  what  followed  after  this  young  girl  poor-  W§ 

Her  u)uil)cr  said  one  morning  what's  the  matter  Sal  ^ 

"You  mopo  about  just  like  a  goose  the  devil's  in  the  ^ 

Six  moiitlis  was  ^oon  pass'd  over  hf»r  gown  it  would    ^ 

not  nifct,  ^ 

Her  motixr  finding  out  the  same  said  it  was  a  treat  ^ 
,0b  daughter  said  the  mother,  the  music  made  you    ^ 

swell,  (t-he  girl,    ^ 

wl)y  it's  never  good  to  play  that  tune  the  devil's  in  ^ 
A  twelvemonth  being  over,  this  young  man  out  of  ^ 

fnn,  (son,    •«• 

He  went  that  way  and  met  the  maid  who'd  a  lovely  ^ 
She  said  kind  sir  come  marry  me  for  you  can  please   ^ 

me  well,  '         (the  girl.    || 

Then  he  shook  his  head  &  smiling  said  the  devils  in  J^ 
Oh  if  I  played  my  uuisic  it  pleased  you  no  doubt,  ^ 
You  ought  to  pay  the  piper  if  he  (he  tune  play'd  out  ^ 
So  go  your  way  my  fair  maid  I  cannot  be  yonr  pal  *^ 
Oh  iCs  get  some  other  one  to  play  the  de\irs  in  the   J| 

girl.  '  ^ 

80  all  vou  pretty  fair  maids  pray  be  advised  by  me,  ^ 
For  you  see  I'm  rewarded  with  a  baby  on  my  knee  ^ 
There's  a  tune  will  please  you  and  ruin  you  as  well  ^ 
80  £air  maids  beware,  don't  get  to  near  the  devil's   4^ 

iulhe  girl.  % 


FCOP»    0^<    VERSES 
ON     THE     WRECK 

OF  THE  STEAM  BOAT  "ADELAIDE," 

With  the  loss  of  nearly  200  lives. 


OF  all  the  great  calamities, 

Yon  ever  yet  did  hear, 
Whether  by  land  or  sea, 

For"\»aiiy  a  bye  gone  year ; 
Thc'dismal  tale  f  now  assert, 

Doth  far  exceed  them  all, 
If  pity  dwells  within  your  breast. 

It  win  cause  a  tear  to  fall. 

Good  people  all,  pity  them, 
That  was  "on  board  the  Adelaide. 

On  the  30th  day  of  March, 

A  dreadful  storm  did  riso. 
The  wind  it  blew  a  hurricane, 

And  dismal  was  the  skies. 
The  ceast  along,  with  the  wreck  was 
strcw'd. 

And  on  that  fatal  night. 
Nearly  200  met  with  a  watery  grave. 

And  ncier  saw  the  raoruihg  light. 

It    was    on     the    thirtieth    day    of 
March, 
Tiom  Dublin  she  set  sail. 


js7^-i.-i-jff.s*kr' 


And  bound  tinto  fair  London, 
With  a  sweet  and  pleasant  gale; 

With  passengers  on  board  of  her, 
The  vessel  was  well  mann'd. 

And  many  widows  now   are    left  to 
mourn 
Without  a  helping  hand. 

And  sad  to  tell,  the  Adelaide, 

That  ninht  she  met  her  fate, 
The  sufferings  of  the  poor  souls  on 
board. 

Is  awful  to  relate  ; 
To  London  bound  with  passengers, 

Each  heart  with  joy  did  beat, 
They  little  thought  when  on  board, 

They  would  be  sunk  in  the  deep 

She    gallant    through     the    channel 
stecr'd, 

-And  all  on  board  Nvorc  well. 
Bin.  now  it  does  my  "bosom  pain. 

This  sequel  for  to  tell ; 


"Twas  on  that  fa(al  night, 

It  blew  a  hurricane. 
It  was  a  dreadful  sight  to  see,  i 

The  Vessel  on  the  main.  * 

The  raging  sea  ran  mountains  high, 

T4ie  tempest  did  unite. 
Poor  souls  in  vain^did  shriek  in  pain. 

Most  dreadful  was  the  sight. 
On  Xhe  North  Forelind  the^wreck 
took  place. 

The  passengers  it  is  said, 
Withpiercingshrieksthcydidiraplor^ 

Kind  Heaven  their  lives  to  save. 

To  sec  the  wreck  that  awful  night,  , 

\t  pntthr»m  to  a  stand. 
The  gallant  ship  wasj  near  to  shore, 

Upon  the  fatal  sands  ; 
The   children    round  their   parents 
hnn^. 

They  tore  their  hair  with  frighj. 
To  think  they  thus  should  end  their 
days. 

And  laud  so  near  in  sight. 

They  rolled  their  eyes  in  wild  despair 

Destruction  seemed  so  nigh. 
And  from  the  seip  burst  shrieks  and 
cries, 

That  almost  rent  the  sky ; 
The  foaming  billows  roared  beneath 

Most  awful  was  the  sight. 
For  all  expectee  instant  death. 

All  hopes  seem'd  banish  quite. 

You  tender  hearted  Christians 

Extend  a  helping  hand. 
To  the  widows  and  the  fatherless 

That^s  left  upon  the  land. 
To  aid  your  fellow  creatures 

That  arc  in  deep  distress  ; 
For  what  you  give  unto  the  poor. 

The  Lord  he  will  you  bless. 


BIRT,  Printer,  39,  Great  St.Andrew 
Street,  Seven  Dials. 


BEN  BLOCK. 

Primed  by  T.  BIRT,  "l  |^    Gr^at  St.  Amlrtw-Slreet, 
^•holesale  nid  retail,)  -"-^^l   Seven  Dials,  Lotidon, 
Country  Orders  puncluHlly  aitendt-d  lo. 
Every  description  .of  Printn*^  on  rrasonahie  (trin*. 
CkiUJrcn's  Books,  Battledores,  Picuires,  \c. 

BEN  Block  was  avet'ranofnaval  renown 
And  renown  was  his  only  reward. 
The  boahl  had  neglected  his  merits  to  crown 

For  no  iufrest  had  Ben  with  my  Lord  ; 
1^1  yet  stnimch  as  old  Benbow,  was  sturdy 
old  I>en, 
And  he  would  laugh  at  the  cannon's  loud 
roar, 
Until  death  dealing  broadsides  made  ball*  to 
meet  men, 
And  the  scuppers  were  streaming  with  «ore 

Nor   could    the   Lieutenant's   poor    gtipeinl 
provoke, 
His  sitauncli  mind  by  their  scanty  prog  ; 
For  his  biscuit  he'd  break,  turn  a  quid, crack 
a  Joke, 
And  drown  care  in  a  jorum  of  grog. 
Thus  for  year  after  year,  in  a  sea-boat  of  state 

Poor  Ben  for  his  King  fought  and  bled, 
Until  time  had  unthatch'd  all  the  roof  of  his 
pate, 
And  the  hair  from  his  temples  had  fled. 

Ben  humbly  saluted  a  fribblish  old  Peer, 

A  first  Lord  of  the  Adm'ralty  once  ; 
Cried  his  Lordship,  *'  why  Ben,you  have  lost 
all  your  hair, 
*•  Sincelpeep'd  thelast  time  atyoursconce." 
'•  Why  my  Lord,"  replied  Ben,  '*  if  the  truth 
may  be  said, 
'*  Since  a  bald  pate  so  long  l*ve  walk'd 
under, 
**  There  have  so  many  Captains  walk'd  over 
my  head, 
•  Had  you  seen  me  quite  scalpt,  'twere  »o 
wonder." 


BlackEj'dSusan 

Printed  by  T.  BIRT -|  f\  Gr*at  St  An4rf w-Street 
*LoUya!eah.i  reiad,  -*-^-^?  Seven  Diah,  London. 

Country  Oniers  puiictiially  attervded  to. 

Ev«ry  dfscnplron  of  Pfintiii^,'  oii  reascnablf  tepmft. 

Cdildieii'*  Books,  Bjutledoreg,  Pictures,  &c, 

A  IJ.  in  the  Downs  the  fleet  lay  moor'd, 
*^    The  streamers  waving  in  the  wind, 
VVIien  black-ey'tl  Susan  came  on  board 
Oil  where  shall  I  my  trite-leve  find  ?* 
Tell  ri>e,  ye  jovial  sailors,  tell  me  true, 
Dbe»  n»Y  sweet  William  sail  among  your  crew' 

WilliaiM,  who  hi^h  upon  the  yard, 
Roek'd  with  the  billows  lo  and  fro, 

Soon  as  her  well-knowH  voice  he  heard, 
Hesi^h'd,  and  cast  his  eyes  below  ; 

The  cord  gildts  swiftly  thro' his  glowing  hands 

And  quick  as  lightning  on  the  deck  he  stands. 

So  the  sweet  lark,  high  pois'd  in  air 
Shuls  close  his  pinions  to  his  breast, 

IPchnnce  his  mate's  shrill  call  he  hearS) 
And  drops  at  once  into  her  nest; 

The  noblest  captain  in  the  British  fleet, 

Might  envy  William's  lips  those  kises  sweet. 

0  Susan,  Susan,  lovely  dear  ; 

My  vows  shall  ever  true  remain; 
Lei  me  kiss  offthat  falling  tear, 

We  only  part  to  meet  again; 
Change  as  ye  list,  ye  witids,  ray  heart  shall  oe,~ 
i  he  faithful  coinpass  that  still  points  to  thee. 

Jelieve  not  what  the  landsmen  say, 
VV  ho  It'Bipt  to  doubt  thy  constant  raind, 

1  hey  II  tell  thee,  sailors,  when  away, 

lu  ev'ry  port  a  mistress  find  ; 
/es.  yes,  believe  them  when  they  tell  Uioo  so, 
?or  ihou  art  present  wheresoe'er  I  go, 

li  to  fair  India's  coast  we  sail, 
Thy  eyes  are  seen  in  diamonds  bright, 

Thv  breath  is  Afric's  spicv  gale, 
Thy  skin  is  ivory  so  white: 

Thus  ev'ry  beauteous  object  that  I  view, 

Wakes  in  my  soul  some  charms  of  iiGvely  Su«. 

Tbo'  battle  calls  me  from  thy  arms, ' 

Let  not  my  pretty  Susa-n  mourn ; 
Tho'  cannons  roar,  yet  safe  from  harois, 

William  shall  to  his  dear  return,         ' 
Love  turns  aside  the  balls  that  round  me  fly, 
Lest  precious  tears  should  drop  fromSusan's  eye 

The  boatswain  gave  the  dreadful  word. 
The  sails  their  swelling  bosoms  spread 

No  longer  mu<^tshe  slay  on  board, 

They  kiss'd,  she  sigh'd,  he  hung  his  liead-t 

fler  less'ning  boat  unwilling  rows  to  land, 

VJieu  !  she  cried,  and  wav'd  her  Uly  hand. 


1^ 


SAILOR'S  DEUBHT 


Printed  ana  Sold  by  T.  BIRT,  No.  39,  Great  St.  Andrew  Street,  Seven  Dials,  London^ 

Country  Orders  punctually  attended  to. 
^^  Every  description  of  Printing  done  on  the  most  reasonable  terms. 


THE  MARINER'S 
COMPASS. 

Sam  Spritsail's  a  lad  jouMI  delight  in 

For  friendsliip  he's  ever  agog  ; 
Loves  his  kiug,  loves  his  wench,  and 
loves  lighting, 
And  he  loves — to  be  sure  be  loves 
^       ?»og. 

oays  Sara,  says  he,  life's  all  a  notion. 
And  wants  from  the  spirit  a  jog. 
The  world's  a  wide  troubled  ocean. 
And   our  rudder  and  compass  \% 
grog. 
For  izroe  is  our  larboard  and  star, 
board, 
OuroaainmastyOurmizen.ourlog  ; 
At  sea,  or  on  shore»  or  when  har- 
boured, 
The  mariner's  compass  is  grog. 
For  grog  is  our,  &c. 

Let  but  grog  take  its  charge  of  the 
helm, 
We  perceive   not  the  dangers  at 
sea; 


An  English  vessel  heaves  in  view, 
lie  asks,  but  she  no  letter  brings, 

From  bonoyKate  he  loved  sotrue, 
Then  sighs  he  for  his  native  dell  ; 

Yet  to  hope  he  cilngs, 

Whil«  the  steersman  sings, 
Steady  she  goes!  all's  well. 

The  storm  is  past,  the  battle's  o'er, 
Nature  and  man  repose  in  peace, 

Then  hsmeward   bound,    on    £ng* 
land's  shore, 
The  hopes  of  joys  that  ne'er  will 
cease  : 

His  Kate'o  sweet  voice  those  j  ys 
foretell, 

And  his  big  heart  spriags, 
While  the  steersman  sings, 

Steady  she  goes!  all's  well. 

FAR,  FAR  AT  SEA. 

Twas  at  night  when   the   bell  had 
tolled  twelve,  pillow, 

And  poor    Sni^nn    was   laid    on   kcr 

In  her  ear  whispered  some  fleeting 


Poor  Jack  can't  get  a  hearing, 

She  ««ve  rsaw  his  face  ! 
P'rom  Meg-,  and  Doll,  and  Kitty, 

Relief  is  just  as  far  ; 
Not  one  has  the  least  pity, 

For  a  poor  shipwrcck'd  Tar. 

SI.e,  whom  he  thoiijjht  love's  needle 

Now  his  sad  misVy  mocks, 
And  wants  to  get  the  beadle. 

To  set  'liin  in  t,h*>  stocks  ! 
Cry'd  Jack,  this  is  hard  d#aling  ; 

The  elempiits  of  war. 
Sure  they  had  a  kinder  feeling—. 

They  spjir'd  a  shipwrpck'd   I'ar, 

But  all  their  taunts  and  fetchev, 

A  judgment  are  to  me, 
I,  for  Ihnse  harden'd  wretches, 

Dear  Nancy  ,  slighted  thee    , 
ut  see,    poor  Tray  assails  me, 

His  mistress  is  not  far;  • 
He  wags  his  tail,  and  hails  nie, 

Tho'  a  p'Jor  shipwreck'd  Tar. 

T  was  faithful  love  that  brou^htbin 


I 


Or  if  billows  the  Tesse!  o'erwheloi) 

Still  grog  is  the  pilot  for  me. 
Since  gro^    sares   the  trouble    of 
thinkiog. 
Then  here's   to   each  bold  jollj 
dog; 
Forhe  that  delights  in  good  drinking 
Will  toss  off  his  full  can  of  grog. 
For  grog  is  our,  &c, 

Sam  Spritsail,  though  grog  he  Jov'd 
dearly* 
And    it's  praise    be    enraptured 
would  sing, 
Yet  he  fought  for  his  country  most 
cheerly, 
LoTed  his'sweetheart,  and  honour- 
ed his  king. 
For  Sam's  heait  was  spliced  to  bis 
Nancy's, 
And  his  mind  on  the  wenQh  quite 
agog ; 
Yet  sailors  hare  comical  fancies. 
And  dear  as  his  life  he  loves  grog, 
For  grog  is  our,  &c. 

STAND  TO  YOUR 
GUNS. 

Stand  to  your  guns^  ny  hearts  of 

oak, 
ist  not  a  word  on  board  be  spoke, 
Victory  soon  will  erown  the  joke  ; 

Be  silent,  and  be  ready. 
Ram  home  your  guns,  and  sponge 

them  well ; 
Let  us  be  suf6  the  balls  will  tell  ; 
The  cannons  ro»r  shall  sound  their 

knell, 

Be  steady,  boys!  be  steady. 

Not  yet !  nor  yet,  oor  yet;  reserve 
your  fire, 
I  do  desire> 
Now  the  elements  do  rattle  ; 
7be  gods,  amazed,  behold  the  battle; 
A  broadside,  my  boys  ! 
See  the  blood,  in  purple  tide, 
Trickle  down  her  battered  sidei 
Winged  with  fate  the  bullets  fl/, 
Conquer,  boys  !  or  bravely  die ! 
Hurl  destruction  on  your  foes  : 
She  sinks !  she  siuks !  huzxa, 
To  the  bottom  down  she  goes. 

STEADY  SHE  GOES. 

The  British  tar  no  peril  knows, 
But    fearless    brafes  the    angry 
deep. 

The  ship's  his  cradle  of  repose. 
And    sweetly  rocks   him  to  his 
sleep  : 

He,  thought  the  raging  surges  swell, 
In  his  hammock  swings, 
When  the  steersman  sings, 

Steady  she  goes  5  all's  well. 

While^  on   the  main. top    yard   he 
8})rlng8, 


eive, 
Your  lore  is  now  tost  on  a  billaw, 
Far,  far  at  sea* 

AH  was  dark  !  aa  she  'woke  out  of 
breath. 
Not  an  object  her  feiri  could  dis- 
cover; 
All  was  itill  as  the  silence  of  death, 
Save    fancy,    which  painted    her 
lover. 

Far,  far  al  sea. 

So  she   whispered  a  pray'd,   closed 

her  eyes. 

But  the  phantom  still  haunted  her 

pillow  : 

Whilst  in  terror  she  echoed  his  cries, 

As  struofgliog  he  sunk  in  the  bil. 

'ow.  Far,  far  at  sea, 

TOM  BOWLING. 

Here  a  fhser  hulk  lies  poor   Tom 
Bowlisg, 
The  darling  of  our  crew  ; 
Nomore  he'il  hear  the  tempest  howl- 
ing. 
For  death  has  brought  him  too. 

His  form  was  of  the  manliest  beaaty, 
His  heart  was  kind  and  soft. 

Faithful  below  be  did  his  duty, 
And  now  be  is  gone  aloft. 

Tom  never  from  his  word  departed. 

His  virtues  were  so  rare, 
His  friends   were   many   and   true 
hearted. 

His  Poll  was  kind  and  fair  ! 
And  then  he'd  sing  so  biythe  &  jolly. 

Ah  I  many's  the  time  and  oft ! 
But  mirth  is  turn'd  to  melancholy, 

For  Tom  is  gone  aloft. 

Yet   shall  poor  Tom  find  pleasaDt 
weather. 
When  He  who  all  commands, 
Shall  give,  (to  call  life's  crew  to- 
gether). 
The  word  to  pipe  all  hands 
Thus  death,  who  kings  and  tars  dis- 
patches, 
In  vain  Turn's  life  has  doff'd, 
For  tho'  his  body's  under  hatches, 
His  soul  is  gone  aloft. 

THE  SHIPWRECK  TAR. 

Escap'd  with  life  in  tatters, 

Behold  me  safe  on  shore. 
Such  trifles  little  matters, 

I'll  soon  get  togs  galore; 
For  Poll  swore,  when  we  parted. 

No  chance  her  faith  should  jar, 
And  Poll's  too  tenderhearted, 

To  slight  a  shipwreck'd  Tar, 

To  Poll,  his  course  straight  steeriag. 
Jack  hastens  on  apace; 


A  lesson  for  mankind  ; 
'Tis  one,'  cry'd  she,  ♦!  taught  him, 

For,  on  my  constant  mind. 
Thy  image  dear  was  graven, 

And  now  remov'd  each  bar, 
My  arms  shall  be  the  haven, 

For  a  poor  shipwreckM  Tar.' 

WHEN  VULCAN 

FORG'D  THE  BOLTS  OF 

JOVE. 

Whea  Vulcan  forg'd    the  bolts   of 
Jove, 

In  Etna's  roaring  glow, 
Neptune  petitioa'd  he  might  prove, 

Their  use  and  power  below  ; 
But  finding  in  the  boundless  deep, 
Sneh  thunder*  would  but  idly  sleep, 
Hewith  them  arm'd  Britannia's  haad, 
To  guard  from  foes  her  native  laud. 

Long  may  she  hold  the  awful  right, 
And  when  thro'  circling  flame. 

She  darts  her  vengeance  in  the  fight. 
May  Justice  guide  her  aim  ; 

And  when  assail'd  in  future  wars. 

Her  soldiers  brave,  and  gallant  tars, 

Shall   launch  her  fires   from   every 
band. 

On  every  foe  to  Britain'*  land. 

HEAVING  THE  LEAD. 

For   England,  when  with  fav'ring 
gale, 
Our  gallant  ship  up  cbannelsteer'd 
And  scudding  under  easy  sail, 
The  high  blue  western  land  ap- 
pear'd, 
To  heave  thelead  the  seaman  sprung, 
And  to  tho  pilot  cheerly  »ung. 
*  By  the  deep— Nine  !' 

And  bearing  up  to  gain  the  port. 
Some  well.knowa  object  kept  in 
view, 
Ab  abbey. tower,  an  harbour-fort, 
Or  beacon,  to  the  vessel  true; 
While  oft'  the  lead  the  seaman  flung, 
And  to  the  pilot  cheerly  sung, 
'  By  the  mark — Seven !' 

And  as  themueh.lov'd  shore  we  near, 

With   transports  we  behold  the 

roof,  (dead, 

Where  dwelt  a  friend   or   partner 

Of  faith  &  lov<?  a  matchless  proof. 

The  lead  once  more  the  seamanfluug 

And  to  the  watchful  pilot  sung. 

•  Quarter  less  —Five  ? 

Nowtoherbirth  the  ship  draws  nigl; 
With  slacken'd  sail  she  feels  th 
tide  , 
Stand  clear  the  cable!  is  the  cry— • 
The  anchor's  gone,  we  safely  ride. 
The  watch  is  set,  and  thro'thenigb 
We  hear  the  seamen  with  delight, 
Proclaim—All  s  Well  .' 


\ 


Theli 


-<i-^-t^ 


Printed   htf    T,    BIHT.  39,  Great   St.  Andn^ 

Stri  el,  Seven  Dials,  London. 

Printing  on  the  most  reasonable  terms 

FARE-thee-well,  lo\e,  now  thou  art  going, 

Over  tke  wild  and  trnck)«<a  sea  ^  '' 

'  Smooth  be  its  waves,  and  fair  the  wind  blowing, 
Though  'tis  to  bear  thee  far  from  nie. 

But  when  on  the  waste  of  ocean, 
Some  happy  home- bound  bark  you  s:?e, 

Swear  by  the  truth  of  your  heart's  devotion, 
To  send  a  letter  back  to  int».  * 

Tliink  of  the  shore  thou'st  left  behind  thee, 
Even  when  reaching  a  brighter  strand  ; 

Let  net  the  golden  glories  blinj  thee,  '> 

Of  that  gorgeous  Indian  land. 

Send  me  not  its  diamond  treasures,  ] 

Nor  pearls  from  tlie  depths  of  its  sandy  sea; 

But  tell  me  of  all  your  woes  and  j)leasures, 
In  a  long  letter  back  to  me. 

But  while  dwelling  in  lands  of  pleasure, 
Think,  as  you  bask  in  tlie  bright  sunshine, 

That  while  the  linweiing  time  I  measure^ 
Sad  and  wintry  liours  ara  mine. 

Lonely  by  my  taper  weeping, 

And  watching  the  spark  of  promise  to  see, 
All  for  that  bright  spark  my  night  watch  keeping; 

For,  oh  !  'tia  a  letter  back  trora  thee. 

To  say  that  soon  thy  sails  will  be  flowinfy, 
Homeward  \q  bear  thee  over  the  sea  ; 

Calm  be  the  waves,  and  bwift  the  wind  blowino-, 
For,  oh  !  thou'rt  coiMiiig  back  to  me. 


PBOVIIIiV    &    WIBE 


MY 


STANDARD  FLYIN8 


Printed    by    T.    BIRT,    39,   Great  St.   Anch-ew 

Street,  Seven  Dials,  Londmi. 

Printing  on.  the  most  reasonable  terms. 


PROUDLY  and  wide  my  standard  flying, 
Now  gallant  heart  assert  thy  sway, 

Brightly  my  star  new  hope  stipplying, 
L^ads  on  the  hour  shall  all  repay. 

Proudly  and  wide,  &c. 

O'er  Alpine  rock,  o'er  hill  or  plain. 
My  will  is  law,  a  king  I  reign, 
My  will  is  law>  a  kin^  I  reign. 

Prondly  and  wide,  &e. 

Brightly  my  star  new  hope  supplying. 
Leads  on  the  hour  shall  all  repay, 
Leads  on  the  hour  shall  all  repay. 

Proudly  and  wide,  &c. 

Awed  from  the  path  of  the  bold  mountain 
ranger,  . 

Soon  shall  my  foes  in  silence  dower, 
Humbled  by  shame,  defeat,  and  dangt^r, 
Owning  my  more  than  })nncely  power. 
Awed  from  the  path,  &c. 

And  brave  rewards  be  mine  at  last, 
J^or  j^pnflicjls  dared  ^Lod^^erils  p^»t, 
For  coiifiicts  dared  and  perils  past. 

Proudly  and  wide,  |«c.' 


mrwm 


l\  Scollaml  tliore  lived  tliive  brolluTs  of  hit.-, 
In  Scotland  there  lived  brothers  tliree, 

And  one  would  cast  lots  witli  the  other  two, 
Which  of  them  should  rob  on  the  salt  sea. 

This  lot  did  fall  to  Henry  Martin, 
■^I'he  youngest  of  the  brothers  throe. 

That  he  should  turn  robber  on  the  salt  sea. 
Maintain  his  two  brothers  and  he. 

We  had  not  sail'd  past  a  long  winter "s  nij^ht, 
l*ast  a  long  winter's  night  before  day, 

'Till  there  we  espied  a  lofty  fine  ship. 
Come  sailing  along  the  salt  sea. 

O  where  are  you  bound  to?  said  Henry  Martin; 

How  dare  yoii  come  sailing  so  nigh  ? 
I'm  a  rich  loaded  ship  bound  to  fair  Mngland 

If  you  please  to  let  me  pass  by. 

O  no*  O  no,  replied  Henry  Martin, 

C)  no  that  never  can  be. 
For  I  have  turned  robber  u])on  the  salt  seas, 

To  maintain  my  two  brothers  and  me. 

Have  back  your  main  topsail,  likewise  your  maru 
tack. 

And  lay  your  ship  under  my  keel. 
And  I  vviil  takcT  all  your  rich  flowing  gold. 

And  your  fair  bodies  I'll  send  to  the  sea, 

Then  broadside  for  broadside  they  merrily  fough  t 

For  full  two  hours  or  three, 
'Till  bold  Henry  Martin  he  gave  the  death  wound 

Then  down  to  the  bottom  went  she. 

Bad,  news  bad  news  to  old  England, 

Bad  news  I  will  tell  unto  thee. 
For  all  the  rich  flowing  gold  is  cast  away. 

And  the  manners  drown 'd  in  the  sea. 


L 


BOLD  BRENNAN 


IT'S  of  a  fearless  highwaymau  a  story  1  wiii  tell, 
His  name  was  WiUie  Brennoii  in  Ireland  he  did  dwell, 
And  on  the  Livart  mountaine  b«  commenced  his  Avild  career, 
"VMiere  many  a  wealthy  gentleman  before  him  shook  with  fear. 
Bold  and  unda\mted  stood  bold  Brennan  on  the  moor. 

A  brace  of  loaded  pistols, 'he  carried  night  and  day, 
He  never  robb'd  a  poor  man  upon  the  King's  highway ; 
But  when  he'd  taken  from  the  rich  like  Turpin  and  Black  Bess, 
But  he  always  did  divide  it  with  the  widow  in  distress. 

One  night  he  robb'd  a  packman,  his  nanie  was  Pedlar  Brown, 
They  travell'd  on  together  till  the  day  began  to  dawn ; 
The  pedlar  seeing  hia  money  gone,  likewise  his  watch  and 

chain, 
He  at  once  encountered  Brennan  and  robb'd  him  back  again. 

When  Brennan  seeing  the  pedlar  was  as  good  a  man  as  he, 
He  took  him  on  the  highway  his  companion  for  to  be, 
The  pedlar  threw  away  his  pack  without  any  more  delay, 
An^Droved  a  faithful  comrade  until  his  dying  day. 

One  cray  upon  the  highway,  as  Willie  he  sat  down, 
He  met  the  Mayor  of  Cashel,  a  mile  outside  the  town  ; 
The  mayor  he  knew  his  features,  I  think,  young  man,  said  he, 
Your  name  is  Willie  Brennan,  you  must  come  along  with  me. 

As  Brennan's  wife  had  gone  to  town,  provisions  for  to  buy, 
\^'hen  she  saw  her  Willie,  she  began  to  weep  and  cry. 
He  says,  '  Give  me  that  tenpence  ?  *  as  soon  as  Willie  epoke, 
She  handed  him  the  blunderbuss  from  underneath  her  cloak. 

Then  with  his  loaded  blunderbuss,  the  truth  I  will  unfold, 
He  made  the  mayor  to  tremble  and  robb'd  him  of  his  gold. 
One  hundred  pounds  was  offered  for  his  apprehension  there, 
And  with  hia  horse  and  saddle  to  the  mountains  did  repair. 

Then  Brennan  being  an  outlaw,  upon  the  mountains  high,  * 
\^'^e^e  cavalry  and  infantry  to  take  him  they  did  try ; 
He  laaighed  at  them  with  scorn,  until  at  length,  'tis  said, 
By  a  false-hearted  young  man  he  waa  basely  betrayed. 

In  the  county  of  Tipperary  in  a  place  they  call  Olonmore, 
Willie  Btennan  and  his  comrade  they  did  suffer  sore  ; 
He  lay  among  the  fern  which  was  thick  upon  the  field, 
And  nioe  wounds  ke  did  receive,  before  that  he  did  yield. 

Then  Brennan  and  his  companion  knowing  they  were  betray'd 
He  with  the  nnounted  cavalry  a  noble  battle  made ;  ^ 

He  lost  his  foremost  finger,  which  was  ehot  off  by  a  baU^ 
So  Brennan  and  his  comrade  they  were  taken  after  all. 

Sq  they  were  taken  prisoners,  in  irons  they  were  bound, 
And  conveyed  to  Clonmel  jail,  strong  v?all8  didjthem  surround 
They  were  tried  and  foun4  guilty,  the  judge  m?de  this  reply, 
*  For  robbing  on  the  King's  highway,  you  are  both  condemned 
to  die. 

Farewell !  unto  my  wife,  and  to  my  children  three. 
Likewise  my  aged  father,  he  may  shed  tears  for  me  ; 
And  to  my  loving  mother,  who  tore  her  gray  locks,  and  cried, 
Saying, '  I  wish  Willie  Brennan,  in  your  cradle  you  had  died.' 


THE  BATTLE 

Of  JBoulogne, 

Printed  by  T.BIRTt  r\  GreatSt.Andrew-St*© 
(wholesale  &  retail)  A ^5  Seren  Dials,  LondoDf 
(^  Printing  of  every  description. 

ON  the  second  of  August,  eighteen 
hundred  and  one. 
We  sail'd  with  Lord  Nelson  to  the  port 

of  Boulogne  j 
For  to  cut  out  their  shipping  which  was 

all  in  vain. 
But  to  our  misfortune  they  were  atl 
moar'd  and  ehain'd. 

Our  boats  being  Mrell  manrnd  at  eleven 

at  night. 
For  to  cut  out  their  shipping  excepting 

they  fight ; 
But  the  grapes  from  their  batteries  so 

smartly  did  play. 
Nine  hundred  brave  seamen  kill'd  and 

wounded  there  lay. 

We  hoisted  our  colours  and  boldly thena 

spread. 
With  a  British  flag  flying  at  our  royal 

mast  head  ; 
For  the  hotiour  of  Old  England  we  will 

always  maintain. 
While  bold  British  seamen  ploughs  the 

wat'ry  main. 

Expos'd  to  the  fire  of  the  enemy  we  lay^ 
While  ninety   bright  §)ieces  of  canixii 

did  play. 
Where  many  a  bright  a  mmsn  there  lay 

in  his  gore. 
And  then  shot   from  th  J     tacteries  so 

smartly  did  pour 

Our  noble  commander  viUn  heart  full 

of  grief, 
Used  every  effort  to  afford  us  relief; 
No  ship  could  assist   us,  as   well  yon 

might  know, 
In    this   wounded   condition    we    were 

toss'd  to  and  fro. 

And  you   that  relieve   us,  the  Lord  will 

you  bless. 
For  assisting  poor  sailors  in  the  (itne  of 

distress  • 
May  the  Lord  put   an  end  to  all  cruel 

wars. 
And  peace  and  content  be  to  all  j3n.4isti 

tars, 


Scots  wha  hae.  Auld  Lang*  8j  ue. 


V/. 


Street 
ilk  and  retml.  *  ^'^    ^e\en  Dial*,  London. 
Couniry  Ortifr-.  puncniHlly  aliernlcd  lo. 
r   HaiMlb'.ll*  Cartls.  &o.   Printed  neat  Htwt  i  heap, 
hildnn's  Books,  BattUdores,  Pitturen,  &f. 


|P 


JlCOTS,  M  ha  hae  >vi'  Wallace  bled^ 
^  Scots,  wliam  Bruce  has  at'ten  led  — 
''elcome  to  your  ji^ory  bed, 

Or  to  Victoria  ! 
ow's  the  day,  and  noWs  the  hour! 
ee  the  front  of  battle  lour  ! 
ie  approach  poor  Edwards  pow'r! 

Chains,  and  slaverie  ! 

/hawill  be  a  traitor  knave? 
/ha  can  hll  a  coward  s  pave? 
k  ha  sae  base  as  be  a  slave  ( 

Traitor  '   turn  and  fiee! 
riia  for  Scotland's  kinj^  and  Ihw! 
reedom's  SAvord  will  stron«i;ly  draw  ! 
'reenian  stand,  or  freeman  fa' — 

Let  him  on  wi'  me  ( 

ty oppression's  woes  and  pains! 
ly  your  sons  in  servile  chains  ! 
Ve  will  drain  our  dearest  veins, 

But  they  shall  be  free' 
>ay  the  proud  usurpers  low 
'yrants  fall  in  evry  foe 
Jberty's  in  ev  ry  blow  I 

Let  us  do,  or  de" ! 

-Ind  has  She  then  Fail'd  in 
her  Truth. 

ND  has  she  then  fail'd  m  her  truth, 
^riic  beautiful  maid  I  adore, 
Shall  1  never  a^:ain  liear  her  voice, 

IN  or  see  her  loVd  lorni  any  more. 
No,  no,  no,  1  shall  never  see  her  more. 

4h  !  Selima,  how  cruel  yon  proves 
Yet  sure  my  hard  lot  you'll  bewail, 

I  could  not  presume  you  would  love. 
Yet  pity  1  hop  d  would  prevail. 

And  has  she,  &>* 

And  since  hatred  alone  I  inspir**-, 

Life  henceforth  is  not  worth  my  care; 
Oeath  now  is  my  only  desire, 
,1  give  myself  up  to  despair. 

And  as  she,  &c. 


♦ 


Print  <|^  .8ti«et, 

wholesale  and  .^taii,  -^        ^    Seven  Dials,  Luiidon 

Cwiijivry  Onkrs  puueliiall)  aiuiultd  t«. 
C:f    FUnHhiHs,  Cattir^^c  Priiitt:<i  ucat  uitd  «'bta||. 
Chjliireu'b  Books,  BaiikOurth    Pitiurts,  &..t. 


'^'t* 


SHOULD     auld     actpiaintanc       !>• 
forgot, 
ind  never  brougnt  to  mind  }     ^ 
Siiotdd  ohl  ac(pi;nntance  be  forj^ot/ 
And  days  o'  lang  syne. 

Fur  old  laiifTsyue,  my  fnentlR. 

For  auld  lanj;"  syne, 
We'll  take  a  cup  of  kindness  yet 
F\)r  auld  laug;  syne. 

We  twa  hae  runabout  the  braes. 
And  pu'd  I  he  jiowans  fine  ; 

But  we've  wander  d  many  aweary  foot 
Since  auld  langr  svne. 

And  there's  a  hand  my  trusty  friend 

And  jiies  a  hand  o'  thine; 
And  loom  tiie  <!up  Ut  friendship's  growih 

And  auld  Ian":  sviie. 

And  surely  ye  11  be  your  pmt-stoup 

As  sure  as  FU  be  mine, 
And   well  tak  a  lijiht  jiuid  \Niilv-wao:iUt 

rcr.uild  ianur  svne. 

GK^riotis  Apollo. 

A  Favourite  Glee. 

GLOUIOUS  Apollo,  from  on  I,*.ih 
beheld  us. 
Wand  rin{^   lo    hnd  a  temple   for    hiH 
pniise, 
Send  Folyhymnia  hither  to  shield  us. 
While  we  ourselves   such   a   btrucUue 
nii,i;ht  raise ; 

Thus  then  combiiiin^r. 
Hands  and  hearts  ioiiiiii;^-. 
Sing:  we  in  harnnmy  Apt)Uu  >.  praise. 

Here  ev'ry  ijen'rous  sentiment  aw»kvi<: 

Music  inspiring'  unily  aud  jt»y — 
Fach  social  pleasure  ^ivinii;  &  partakiv^ 
Glee  &  i;ood  humour  ourhov.r.s  on4[>i«,fy 
I'hus  then  comluininjj:. 
Hands  and  hearts  joining, 
Long  nv\y  co*iti««iie  our  linity  and  joy. 


^C'^'^^ 


IT  WAS 

NATURE'S  GATD^Y 


i*^*'^*'^***  * 


BIRT,  Printer,  39,  Great  Si.  Andrew  Street, 
Seven  Dials,  London. 


It  was  nature's  gay  day, 

Britjht  smilins;  May-day, 
Each  heart  was  bounding  wi  h  joy  andwith  glee, 

Cowslips  were  springing, 

Village  bells  ringing. 
All  hastened  to  dance  round  the  flo.very  May-tree  ; 

Merrilly  bounding 

May-poles  surrounding, 
Each  lover  was  merry  on  that  happy  day ; 

To  meet  me  delighted, 

By  all  invited, 
To  ioiii  the  gay  dance  of  the  Queen  of  the  May. 

Evening  descended. 

Our  froHcs  were  ended. 
Lads  and  their  lasses  tripped  lightly  away ; 

It  was  then  that  hewoo'd  me. 

Then  he  subdued  me, 
And  promised  me  more  than  I'd  ventured  to  say 

But  if  my  lover, 

Should  ever  discover, 
Jealously  for  me,  I'd  answer  him  so — 

Dearest  believe  me, 

I'll  never  deceive  thee, 
You  have  my  heart  others  have  but  the  show. 

Fal,  lal,  &c. 


THE 

Jolly  Bnccaneer* 

BIRT,  Printer,  39,  Great  St.  Andrew  St^ee^ 
Seven  Dials. 

The  good  ship  Revenge,through  the  octan  spank'd 
lightly, 
She  flash'd  to  our  purpose,  \  ou  tie'er  &aw  her  like 
Balls  and  buliets  whiz  by,  ne'er  cause  an  emotion, 
*Till  we  are  bowled  down,  we  never  uij]  strike, 
Success  to  seamens'  cheer. 
Glad's  the  jollv  Buccaneer. 

Now  in  warm   climates,  and  to   all   parts  we  are 
steering, 
Sometimes  a  hard  tussell  but  now  a  soft  booze, 
With  our  girls  and  a  fiddle,  sometimes  kind  and 
loving. 
See  a  messmate  popp'd  off,  then  we  step  in  his 
shoes, 
Still  success  to  seamens'  cheer, 
Glad*s  the  jolly  jolly  Buccaneer. 

Well  stored  now  with   plunder,  at  nine  knots  we 
are  steering, 
To  the  copper  fair  girls  who  greet  us  on  shore. 
Then  we  laugh  and   we  drink,   m  ith  cursing  and 
swearing, 
Sec  our  cargo  safe  out,    then  to  sea  boys  ftw 
more. 
Then  success  to  seamens'  ehcer^ 
Glftd's  a  jolly  Buccaneer. 


mi    HAPPY    TOGETIIKM. 

BlflT,  Piiiitf-r,  39,  Great  St.  Andrew  Street,  7  Dials. 
LondoQ. 

YOU  marnod  folks  all  give  attention. 

And  siitsfles  ones  list  loo  I  [iray, 
Somii  pood  advice  to  yon  I'll  mention, 

Heod  the  words  that  I  to  you  now  say. 
Married  womt'n  be  true  to  your  htishatid^. 

If  happy  vou'd  pass  through  your  lives, 
And  husbands  adopt  the  saino  good  plan. 

Be  constant  and  true  to  your  wires. 
Thfn  listen  to  me  ' 
If  you  would  live  happy  together, 

As  you  steer  through  the  troubles  of  life, 
Depend  that  this  worlds  great  treasure. 

Is  a  kind  and  a  good  tempered  wifv. 

From  the  time  of  this  worlds  first  formation, 

You  will  find  that  it  has  bein  tlie  plan, 
In  every  country  ajid  nation, 

That  woman  was  formed  to  please  man  ; 
And  man  for  to  love  and  protect  them, 

And  shield  them  from  the  fiowns  of  the  Wdrld, 
Through  the  smooth  paths  of  life  to  direct  them, 

He  who  would  do  less  is  a  churl. 
Then  listen  to  me  ! 

If  you  would  live  happy  together,  Sec. 

Some  men  will  illuse  a  good  woman, 

And  say  all  they  do  turns  out  wrong. 
But  as  I  mean  to  offend  no  one, 

You'll  find  faults  to  both  sides  belong ; 
But  if  bcth  were  to  look  at  the  bright  side, 

And  each  others  mind  cease  to  pain, 
They  will  find  they  have  looked  at  the  right  aide, 

For  all  would  be  summer  again. 
Then  listen  to  me  ! 

If  you  would  live  happy  together,  &e. 

Married  women  don't  gossip  or  tattle, 

Rettieraber  it  oft  etirs  up  strife. 
But  attend  to  yonr  childrens  soft  prattle, 

And  the  duties  of  mother  and  wife  ; 
And  men  if  you  need  recreation. 

With  selfish  companioni  don't  roam, 
Who  might  lead  you  to  sad  degradation. 

But  think  of  your  comforts  at  home. 
Then  listen  to  me  ! 

If  you  would  live  happy  together,  tc. 

Vow  a  word  I  must  give  to  the  single. 

Before  I  make  end  of  my  song, 
If  in  matrimony  you'd  mingle, 

Believe  me  Pll  not  lead  yov  wrong ; 
Young  man  if  you  wish  for  a  good  wife. 

By  finery  never  be  led. 
And  girls  if  you  wish  for  a  smooth  life* 

Seek  Uie  man  who  will  work  for  his  bread. 
Then  littea  to  me  ! 

If  ftm  WAuld  liv«  happy  tog^tW  &•. 


KAiVE 

Faith    in    one    another. 


IJav?,  faith  in  oDe  another,  when  ye  tneet  in  .^ri«i  d- 

fchip'si  uanie. 
For   the  true  friend   is  u   brother,  and  his   he  \A 

should  throb  the  same, 
Though    your  path   in  life   may  differ,  sinct  'he 

hour  when  first  we  met, 
Have  faith  m  one  another,^ye  may  need  thatfriei  J 

ship  yet. 
Have  faith  in  one  another,  when  you  >*higper  Iov^'h 

fond  \ow  ; 
It  will  not  be  always  gummer,  or  always  bright  as 

now  ; 
And  when  winter  time  comes  o'er  ye,  if  some  k';)» 

dred  heart  ye  share, 
And  have  faith  in  one  another,  ye  shall  never  kn  >w 

despair. 

And  when  winter  time,  &c. 

Have  faith  in  one  another,  for  should  doubt  al<»ue 

incline,  , 

It  would  make  the  world  a  desert,  wh£re  the  s  i:i 

would  never  shine  ; 
We  have  all   some  transient  sorrow,  that  o'ti  • 

shadows  us  to  day. 
But  have  faith  iu  one  another,  and  it  soou  shall  p^ii 

away. 
Have  faith  in  one  anothter,  and  let  honour  be  ycniw* 

guide  ; 
And  let  truth  alone  be  spoken  whatever  may  hi  • 

tide  ; 
The  false  may  reign  a  season,  and  oh  )    doubt  ROt 

but  it  will, 
Biit  have  faith  in  on«  another  and  the  truth  sha'J 

triumph  still. 

And  wH«o  wt«4«r  1(hbc,^. 


A  CONVEIISATION 


BF.TWEIiliV   THE 


AI>I>ey  ^l^esifiistiBisiterllall, 


ONE  Friday  morn,  e'er  t!ie  moon  was  gone, 

*iis  Irue  vrhai  I'm  rrlatmiif, 
1  stood  a»i;tz'il,  at  I  lie  ruriiiu-*  l)Iaze, 

'I'liKugli  lllpy  were  fast  Dbhtiiig; 
^n<\  tht-re,  most  clear,  I  tlieu  did  hear, 

A  solemn  voice  to  call, 
Wiiich  began  an  oration,  or  conversation. 

UelHeei)  tUe  Abbfv  ai.d  Westminsier  Hall. 

CmtJNT. 
Said  llie  Ilaf',  tht*  niglit,  I've  had  such  a  fright 

"i  he  like  no  man  ever  knew,  ' 

I've  had  su(  h  a  roMStin:;-,  hroi  intr,  and  toasting  | 

li  has  put  nie  fjuite  in  a  stew. 
'M.o'  the  rabble  did  call,  in  respect  for  the  Hall 

Ijiit  lo  you  I  11  tell  tlie  trutli, 
'ilio'  njy  sides  ihty  did  save,  from  the  furious 
blaze, 

It  has  stoich'd  my  ancient  roof. 

CHORUS. 
0«  the  Friday  mom,  when  the  fire  was  gone  i 

'That  had  ravaged  St.  Stephens'    Wall, 
I  heard  this  oration,  or  conversation, 

Between  the  Abbey  &  Westminster  Hall 

Says  the  Abbey,  my  friend,  I  thought  you^as 
at  an  end. 

For  1  heard  L-d  A p  bawl, 

Come  Jend  »n  hand,  the  Commons  be  d— d, 

But  s;ive,  O  save  the  Hall  ! 
And   there  was   Middlesex  Joe,  who  not  long 

For  a  New  House  did  move,  I'm  told, 
Was  in  a  rare  pet,  and  a  devilish  sweiu, 
In  trying  to  save  the  old. 

There  was  Munsfer  Fitz  carnce,  had  a  very 
near  thance, 

I'd  have  given  his  life  for  ayarrfo/i. 
He  swore  n;ost  stout,  that  the  fire  to  I'oit, 

It  would  lake  all  llie  River  Jordan. 
But  I'm  still  in  a  quanJary,  for  they  say  'twas 
an  Incendiary, 

That  made  m«  so  precious  hot. 
What'i  more,  I  hear,  th  il  S\a  ing  is  here. 

And  1  fchall  soon  go  to  pot. 

Oh  !  no,  says  the  Abbey,  he'll  not  be  so  shabby 
A»  to  burn  either  me  or  you. 


For  in  ricks  or  barns  and  country  f^irms. 

He  finds" ]>lertty  of  woiK  to  do 
But  this  I  hear,  though  Saving's  not  here, 

'('here's  a  «Ban  of  greater  ieno>\n; 
Fam'd   Guy   Faux  c)f  old,  has  rose  again,  we 
are  told, 

And  the  other  tJay  canne  inlo  town. 

Savs  the  Hall,  I  eah*t  see,  between  you  &  me, 

How  (his  fire  it  fi^rst  occurred. 
In  the  Ccnimons  soiie  say,  the  M*  mbsrs  ihat 
day. 
Set  fire  to'  the  House  with  hot  words. 
Yet  by  some   it  is  said,  the  last  speech   that 
was  ma'le. 
Was  so  warm  in  that  cause  we  admire ; 
•So  the  Broom  we  must  blame,  for  he  kindled 
the  flame, 
For  his  words  set  the  hou^e  all  on  fire. 

Says  the  Abbey,  oh,  dear!  ^such  things  I  did 
hear, 

I  am  sure  'twas  a  shame  and  disgrace. 
For  the  rabble's  vile  cries,  at  each  flame  thai 
did  rise. 

Made  me  blush,  for  I  was  red  in  the  face. 
One  said,  I  declare,  the  Reform  s  in  the  air, 

And  the  Temperance  Bill  is  tip-raisd, 
Hume's  motion  is  won,  by  a  majtrity  of  fr««^ 

And  the  Poor- Law  is  all  in  a  blaze. 

But,  my  friend,  we  can  boastf  we  have  hng 
stood  oyrj)ost, 
Though  the  times  are  much  altered,  alas  ! 
When  we  were  budt,  I've  heard  say,  men  had 
a  penny  a  day. 
And  no  luw  of  oppression  could  pass. 
PoorSt. Stephens'  is  gone,  its  walls  areforhnrn 
IJm/,  my  ftiend,  J  now  see  day  is  dawning, 
It  looks  like  a  curse,  but  I'm  glad  iVs  «« 
worse. 
So  I  wish  you  a  veri/f  g^od  morning. 

James  MortoX. 


P  rimed  by  TBIRT.QOGrea*  st  Andrew^ 
W halt-sale  and  (reUil  ^        Seven  D.als,  Loud 

Country  orders  puuclually  alteiuled  to. 
Everydesc-ipiian  of  Pdnlittg  oa  rva«  jn  Able  t<;rmi. 


~— M-L'" — sii^rssi 


LOST 

BJRT,  Printer, S9,  Great  St.  Andrew 
Street  J  Seven  Dials,  London 

They  have  given  thee  to  another. 

They  have  broken  every  vow  ; 
They  have  given  thee  to  UHollier, 

And  my  heart  is  lonely  now  ! 
They  remennber  not  our  parting, 

They  remember  not  our  tears. 
They  have  severed  in  one  fat4  hour, 

The  tenderness  of  years  ! 

0  was  it  well  to  leave  me  ? 
Thou  could'st  not  so  deceive  me  ! 
Long  and  sorely  I  shall  grieve  thee, 

Lost,  lost  Rosabel ! 

They  have  given  thee  to  another^ 
Thou  art  now  his  gentle  br\de  ! 

Had  I  lov'd  thee  as  a  brother, 
I  could  s«e  thee  by  his  side. 

1  know  with  gold  they've  won  thee, 

And  thy  trusting  heart  beguil'd  ; 
Thy  mother,  too,  doth  shun  me, 
For  she  knew  1  lov'd  her  child  ! 

0  was  it  well  to  sever. 
Two  fond  hearts  for  ever  ? 

1  can  only  answer — Piever  ! 

Lost,  lost  Rosabel'! 

They  have  given  her  to  another. 

She  will  love  him,  too,  they  say. 
If  her  mem'ry  do  not  chide  her, 

O  !  perhaps,  perhaps,  she  may, 
But  I  know  that  stie  hath  spoken. 

What  she  never  can  forget : 
And  though  my  heart  be  broken. 

It  will  love  her,  love  her,  yet. 
O  'twas  not  well  to  sever, 
Two  fond  hearts  for  ever  ! 
More  I  shall  see  lier  never ! 
Lost,  lost  Kosabel! 


THE  CHARMING 

IToung:  maid. 

Parody  on  "  The  Sicilian  Maidr 


BIRT,  Printer,  39,  Great  St.  Andrew  Street 
Seven  Hialsy  London, 


I  loved  sich  a  charming  young  maid, 

Whose  dad  was  a  sulty  old  elf, 
And  he  vos  so  wild  'cos  the  jade 

His  darter  would  pilfer  his  pelf; 
He  lock'd  her  sometimes  in  the  cell, 

With  a  precious  stout  padlock  and  key. 
When  she  on  vun  cold  night,  poor  girl^ 

Squinted  up  through  a  crevice  on  me. 

In  this  manner  from  her  I  was  barrVl, 

'Cos  he  said  1  should  ruin  the  mai,f; 
I  vos  told,  which  vos  rather  too  hard, 

This  ere  maid  them  ere  same  words  had  said. 
So  vun  night  with  rage  hot  as  Are, 

[  went  with  a  skeleton  key— 
I  said  I  a  stick  may  require. 

So  I'll  certainly  take  vun  with  me 

Some  dust  carts  I  saw  in  the  road. 

By  vun  to  his  crib  vos  conveyed, 
I  bawi'd  'liar  !  liar  V  and  arouseed  the  old  toad. 

And  shortly  knock'd  down  this  fair  maid. 
Oh,  he  and  two  chums,  with  a  light. 

With  their  shovels  ihey  pitched  on  to  me 
Which  turned  to  a  regular  fight, 

And  I  jolly  well  millM  'em  all  three. 


THE  liOTEIiY 

Tillage  Maid. 

TUNE— THE  FARMER'S  BOT. 

Printed  by  T.  BIRT,  No.  39,  Greal  St.  Ad- 
drew-Street,  Seven  Dials.  London. 

9  rpWAS  morn,  the  lark  with  cheerful  note, 
-^    Was  soaring  in  the  air ; 
hng  the  mead,  by  chance,  I  spded, 
A  maiden  blythe  and  fair ; 
In  rustic  dress,  so  neat  and  trim. 

With  basket  on  her  head, 
Her  smile  a  monarches  heart  might  loin 

The  lovely  Villi  age  Maid. 
Whither  so  ^ast,  said  I,  fair  maid, 

Thus  early  in  the  morning, 
I'm  going  to  market,  sir,'  she  said, 

My  daily  bread  to  earn, 
Myjather^s  dead  my  mother,s  poor, 

No  friend,  sane  her,  1  have, 
Pray  stay  me  not,  I  must  be  gone. 

Replied  the  Village  Maid. 
Vll  give  you  house,  I'll  give  you  land. 

Nay  all  that  you  can  crave, 
If  you  consent  for  to  be  mine. 

My  charming  lovely  maid.  ' 
Not  all  your  houses  or  yottr  lands. 

Can  win  my  heart  ,  tf/te  said. 
Remember,  sir,  that  I  am  poor. 
And  but  a  Villinge  Maid. 

Of  lowly  birth,  kind  sir,  am  I, 
,    And  you  of  high  degree  ; 
Therefore  begone,  nor  do  me  stay 

Nor  with  me  make  so  free  ; 
For  Edwin  is  the  lad  I  love. 

He  has  my  heart  betrayed. 
For  he  has  promised  me  sincere, 

To  wed  his  Villiage  Maid. 
At  eve,  when  daily  labour  s  o'er, 

He  meets  mt  at  yon  stile, ' 
And  talks  of  love,  the  church  and  ring,. 

While  he  on  me  does  smile. 
He's  won  my  heart — to  church  Vll  go. 

Nought  else  on  earth  I  crave. 
Then  none  so  happy,  none  so  gay^ 

As  the  humble  Village  Maid, 


The  Swiss  ToyGirl 

Printed  by  T-  BIRT,  No.  89,  Great  S*. 
Andrew-Street,  Sev^n  Dials. 

I'VE  come  across  the  sea, 
I've  brav'd  every  danger. 
For  a  brother  dear  to  me^ 

From  Swiss-land  a  ranger. 
Then  pity,  assist,  and  protect 

The  poor  little  stranger. 
And  b(iy  a  little  toy. 

Of  poor  Rose  of  Lucerne. 

Come  round  me.  ladies  fair, 

I've  ribbons  and  lace», 
I've  trinkets  rich  and  rare, 

To  add  to, the  graces. 
Of  waist  neck,  or  arm. 

Or  your  sweet  pretty  faces,. 
Then  buy  a  little  toy. 

Of  poor  Rose  of  Lucerne. 

I've  paint,  I've  fine  perfume. 

For  those  who  may  chose  them,. 
Young  ladies  I  presume. 

You  all  will  refose  them^ 
The  bloom  on  )our  cheek. 

Shews  that  you  never  use  them^ 
Yet  by  a  httle  toy. 

Of  poor  Rose  of  Lucerne. 

I'vff  a  croa^.  t0  make  you  «mart, 

On  your  breast  you  may  bear  it, 
Ju«t  o'er  your  little  heart, 

I  advise  you  to  wear  it ; 
And  I  hope  that  no  other  cro8» 

E'er  will  come  nigh  it, 
Yes  1  do.  s«  huy  a  toy 

Of  poor  Rote  of  Lucerne, 


THK 


QUEEN  DECLARES  I  MUST  COME  DOWN 


BIRT,  Printer,  39,  Great  St.  Anchew  Street, 
Seven  Dials,  London. 


1  am  a  poor  old  soldier  devoid  of  scars, 
1  have  fought  at  home  and   I've   been  in 

the  wai's  ; 
1  have  learnt  all  nations  capital  rides, 
IVow  they've  stuck  me  up  as  a  gaze  for 

fools 

CHORUS. 
I  am  General  Nosey,  gallant  and  cosey. 
Knocked  about  from  pillar  ta  post. 

I  am  made  of  metal  you  all  well  know, 
Stuck  up  in  the  air  to  frighten  the  crows, 
1  am  a  jolly  old  Duke  without  a  hunch, 
Bad  luck  to  that  little  rascal  Punch. 

CHORUS. 
He  has  caused  a  row  at  the  sign  of  the 

Crown. 
And  the  Queen  declares  I  shall  come  down. 

I  was  brought  to  my  destination  in  pain, 
By  a  lot  of  fellows  »vho  smelt  of  grains  ; 
And  placed  a  loft  so  fine  and  clever. 
In  wind  and  rain,  and  frosty  weather. 

I  have  been  in  Spain  and  Portugal  too, 
All  over  the  world  and  Waterloo  ; 
When  they  take  me  down  I  will  let  them 

see 
If  I  don't  wop  them  may  the  d—l  wop  me, 

Powder  and  pipeclay,  bullets  and  guns. 
Shall  tl>e  scum  of  the  earth  at  me  make  fun? 
To  shove  me  about,  oh  !  England  shame, 
From    Hyde   Park   Corner  to    Rosemary 
Lane. 

If  there  I  go  J  will  quickly  pilch, 
M  y  enemies  into  the  Tower  ditch  ; 
And  if  you  don't  keep  me  my  friend  Bob, 
By  the  tip  of  my  nose  I  will  muzzle  your 
nob. 

1  heard  young  Vic.  and  her  husband  talk, 
As  they  were  going  up  Birdcage  Walk  ; 


For  I  can  hear  a  terrible  way. 
And  he  must  come  down   the  Queen  did 
say. 

By  my  Waterloo  nose  had  them  I  got  nigh, 
1  would  have  shoved  a  broomstick  bang 

in  their  eye ; 
They  railed  at  me  as  they  did  stand. 
And  Albert  called  me  a  funny  old  man.- 

As  through  the  Park  they  rode  one  day, 
Vic  said  to  me  get  out  of  the  vray  ; 
Soldiers  breeches,  I  was  so  savage, 
1  could    have   knocked   her  down  with  a 
German  sausage. 

An  old  soldier  is  like  a  worn  out  horse, 
From  pillar  to  post  they  will  him  toss ; 
Lie  down  and  die  he  surely  may, 
If  he  can*t  live  on  a  tanner  a  day. 

I  know  as  the  folks  pass  by  they  grunt, 
Bad  luck  to  that  little  rascal  Punch ; 
He  could'nt  be  quiet  you  plainly  see. 
But  trouble  his  ugly  head  with  me. 

You  gents  and  ladies  who  know  me, 
Quite  welcome  to  take  my  place  you  be  j 
And  day  and  night,  all  vveathers  complete 
And  you  will  be  tired  in  less  than  a  week^ 

I  must  come  down  as  may  be  seen, 
Yes,  must  come  down  so  says  the  Queeo ; 
They  are  going  to  put  me  somewhere  else. 
So  let  Al.  and  the  Queen  go  up  tbemseives 

I  was  made  by  Wyatt  the  people  say. 
And  placed  up  here  one  fatal  day  ; 
Where   long   1    have    suffered    you   may 

suppose. 
And  the  wind  blew  of  the  tip  of  my  no«e^ 

Take  me  down  Queen  Vic,  alack  ! 
And  place  me  on  Prince  Albert's  back  ; 
If  he  carries  me  safe  to  Windsor  Town, 
I  will  make  him  a  present  of  a  ^haif  a 
crown. 


The  Devil  and  the  Hack- 
ney Coachman. 

Priiutilhy  T.  Hli<  '   -J  d\  G.tai  -i.Atnlr*  w-Sir.v- 
\vh^llf^a  tf  aii<i  If  la  1.  ^^~^j  SvVcn  Di.*l>,  LuiiUoii^ 

BE\  was  a  [lackne    Coachmnn  rare, 
Jarvey  J.irvey  —Here  am  I, your  honour 
Crikeys!   ho>v  he  u^ed  to -wear —     Tomarroo. 
Mow  li«?d  swear,  and  how  he <l  drive, 
Number  ll;iee  hundred  and  sixty  five. 

Ruin  luni  tiddle  liddle  hey  gee  wo. 
Now  Ben  he  jvas  one  ot  Ihat  kind', 

Jarvey,  &c. 
Who  for  the  fulure  never  mind, 

Tomarroo,  &c. 
One  day  he  kepi  liis  horses  smarting, 
And  nevtM  once  th«)Uoht  ot  Mr  Martin. 

Rum  turn,  drc. 
Just  then  a  jienmiMn  did  approach,  Jarvey,  <&c. 
Ail  dress'd  in  black  —  he  cal  d  liis  coach, 

Tomarrooj  &c. 
And  as  I  ve  heard  oM  Heiiny  lell, 
11  is  mouth  brenthd  lorlli  a  sujpherous  smell, 

Rum  tuin,  &c- 
He  had  a  big  'efl  in  his  claw^ 
'Jo  shew  I  hat  he  was  ol  I  he  law, 

Tomarroo,  &c. 
But  tliouf^h  he  spoke  so  mighty  civil,  * 
Ben  knew  quite  will  it  was  Uie  Devil, 

Rum  turn.  &j. 
Now  the  Devil  jump'd  inlo  (he  couch  all  alive, 
Pray,  your  honour,  where  shall  I  drive, 

•  '      Tomarroo,  &c. 
The  Devil,  who  wanted  to  cut  a  swell, 

Said  unto  Ben,— O  I  drive  to 

Rum  turn,  Sec. 
Come,  Itll  me  noyv^  what  is  your  fare, 

Jarvey  &c. 
Jttsllwenly  pounds  to  drive  you  there, 

Tomarroo,  &c. 
The  Devil  hf*  paid  it  with  a  grin, 
For  he  Ihou^lit  he'd  taken  poor  Ben  in, 

Rum  turn,  &'C. 
Then  off  the  horse<  How  pell  incll,   Jarvey,  &c. 

No-- felopp'd  till  thev  came  lo  the  gate  ©f- 

Tomarroo,  &G-' 
Wen  would  not  finsl  go  in  (lie  <:ulph  of  sin, 
"^o  he  tnrn'd  a«id  banU'd  the  Drvil  in, 

Rum  turn, &c. 
Now  lU'M  jump'd  up,  home  to  reiurn, 

Jarvey,  &c. 
If  you  don't  come  back  your  coach,  111  burn, 

Tomarroo,  ^c. 
Mv  coach  and  h.jrse*  n)ay  eo  (o  pol, 
(Clause  {|!ii)'ie  insur'd  ;  but  I  am  no!, 

Rnm  tuQa,  4:e. 
.'    ^^-  '  avray  quila  fsst, 

Jarvey,  &c. 
d      s  home  at  last,  j^ 

TomarrJ^&c. 
N  111'  never  sweari, 

Hum  tuiQ  ^^ 


THE 


Rigs  of  Coachmeo 


IK 

LdOndon  Town^ 

Printed  byXBIRT,"!  r|  GreatSt.Andrew.St»e€t 
wholesiileandretail,  -*  ^-^^    Seven  Dials,  Lundon 

Country  Orders  punctually  attended  to. 
Every  dcKcription  of  Hnming  on  reaxonahle  tefHta. 
Children's  Books,  Battledores  Picturts,&c. 

■^OU  Coachmen  of  London,  that  do  take  delight, 
■*    To  drive  the  Ladies  all  the  day,  and  pleas*  thew 

well  b\  niuht, 
Come  listen  to  m\  story,  which  I  will  tell  to  you, 
Mow  this  ("oachinan  KLss'd  his  Mititregs — what  belter 
could  he  do. 

CHORUS. 

With  his  M'hip  away.  dash  away,  drive  themup&down 
Tiii-,  is  the  rigis  of  Coacbmeii  you  see  in  London  town 

This  Lady  oft  abroad  would  go,  all  for  to  take  the  air, 
Her  favourite  Coct,.hnian  she  must  have  to  drive  her 

here  and  there  ; 
Next  upon  the  dickic  box  this  Lady  she  would  get, 
And  on  her  Coachuiau's  k'H-e  so  lovingly  would  sit. 

With  his  whip  away,  &c. 

But  mark  how  closely  (hey  were  watch'd  &o  mark,  me 

by  the  bye. 
An  old  woman  from  her  window  high  socioseahe  diJ 

Sometimehiii  tljej/airit  some!  inesinthe  drawing-room 
And  when  his  Loidslnp  he  uas  out,  my  Lady  choose 
te  stay  at  home. 

With  his  whip  away,  &c. 

My  Master  in  a  passion,  the  law  he  did  purs^fc, 
To  trial  he  has  brought  his  Coachman  it  is  true, 
To  answer  for  the  fault  that  h(-  had  done  amiss. 
He  smiled,  and  gaid,  he  thought  uq  hariJR  hisMtstJT'i;^ 
for  to  kissj. 

V^ilh  his  whip  a.^^ay,  &c. 

The  trial  it  hissed  for  four  hours  of  the  day, 

rhe   Co;!chiuan    lie    \>.'      ca  t     ut  h   t-ur  tUou»ai)t'> 

poiin4s  y.\  fta>  : 
The  nsoiifv  it  wa      li  pai;   and  ihMt  wiihoui  deluy    • 
And  nou  ♦'•'      ijurii  i^  *  omcI  tn*  n  \\  h  got  his  liberty. 

w   ip  away,  ^c- 


Rigs  and  Sprees  ^^ 

OF  THE  TOWN. 


Tun«.— "  Baverley  Maid  and  the  Tinker." 

H.  Disley,  Printer,  57,  High  Street,  St.  Giles 
ondon. — W<C. 

You  lads  and  lasses  blythe  and  gay, 

Listen  awhile  to  what  I  say. 

If  you'll  attend  1^11  not  be  long, 

It's  about  the  rigs  and  sprees  of  this  town. 

You  may  kiss  the  girls  if  you're  inclined. 
But  mind  and  don't  rumble  their  crinoline. 
Young  lads  and  lasses  of  renown. 
These  are  the  rigs  and  sprees  of  this  town 

Now  in  this  town  on  a  market  day. 
There  is  lots  of  farmers  blythe  and  gay ; 
Tlieir  wives  and  daughters  cut  a  shine. 
With  their  ninepenny  bustles  and  crinoline. 

Old  Jack,  the  cobler,  mind  your  eye. 
Don't  court  that  young  girl  on  the  sly. 
If  you  roll  her  on  the  grass  so  green. 
You'll  be  sure  to  spoil  her  crinoline. 

There's  earotty  Kit,  so  jolly  and  fat. 
With  a  regular  flippaty,  floppaty  hat. 
The  holes  in  her  stockin<ys  as  big  as  a  crown. 
And  the  hoops  of  her  skirts  is  dragging  the 
ground. 

St.  George's  Hall,  in  this  town, 
It  is  the  place  of  great  renown, 
Where  all  th«  swells  they  cut  a  shine. 
In  their  pegtop  trousers  and  crinoline. 

Of  the  Rifle  Corps  just  mind  your  eye, 
They're  sure  to^  t  shootir^g*^i girls  ou  u..   -*;- 
But  they  may  do  as  they've  done  before, 
They  may  kiss  the  girls  behind  the  door. 

1  n  High-street  every  night  you'll  see, 
Recruiting  parties  on  the  spree, 
With  bouncing  Sal  and  pretty  Jane, 
Playing  the  tune  eaUed  Do  it  again. 

The  old  and  young  you  plainly  see 
To  buy  my  songs  they  will  agree. 
It's  about  the  swells  and  ladies  fine, 
With  their  pegtop  trousers  and  crinoline. 

So  now  to  finish  my  tunny  song-, 

What  we  have  said  there's  nothing  wrong, 

It's  all  about  the  ups  and  downs, 

And  the  funny  rigs  and  sprees  of  tbis  tovrn, 

^    By  William  HiU. 


i 


31TSKTFF  IS   BY 
THE  8HORE 


THE    rOOR 


UGGLEIS  BOY 

NE  cloady  cold  .morning   as  abroad 


I  did  ste«r,  (and  clear, 

JBytlie   wide  rolling  ocean  that  runs    swift 
'Ilieard   a  poor   creature  that  id  sorrow  aid 

weep, 
:Say»*)g  oh,  my  poor  father  is  losl  inttbe  deep 

pify  I  crave  or  give  me  erop'oy, 
forlorn   J    must  wander,  cried  &  poor 
smuggler's  boy 
My  faiher  and  mother  once  happy  did  dw6ll 
InVneatiitlle  cottage  they  reared   me  well, 

Poor  Father  did  venture  all  on  the  salt  sea, 
For  a  Keg  ol  good  Jkandy  tor, the  land, of  the 
.free, 

For  Holland  we  «feer<d  while  the   thunder 

did  roar,  (from  shore. 

And  the  lightning  (lash'd  vivid  when  far^  far 

Our  ship  mast  and  jigging  were  bloon  to  the 

wave. 
And  found  withpoor  father  a  watery  grave^ 

I  jumped  overboard  to  the  troubled  main 
To  save  my  poor  father  but  all  was  in. vain, 
I  clasped  his  cold  clay  for  quite  lifeless  was 
be'  •  ,(sea, 

Then  forcM  far  to  leave  him  sink  down  in  the 

1  cluns  to  a  plank,  and  so  gain'd  the  shore, 
With  sad  news  for  mother,  &  father  no  more, 
iFor  rootbei  with  grief  broken-bcaried  did  die 
And  il  was  leU  to  wauder-.r^so^pity  poor  I. 
A  L«dy  of  fortune  she  heard  him  complain, 
A»d  bhelterd  him  from  the  wind  and  the  rain 
She  suid,  I've  employment  no  parents dhaveil 
J.  will  ihiak  of  an  <^rphao  till  the  day  th^tldie 

lile  well  did  his  duty  and  gjain'd  a  good  name 

XHl  live. lady -s'ne  died,  and  be  master  became, 

ti^iit^iWft  i'ifn  200.0  bright  pounds,    and    some 

iJand,  (be  grand, 

SoiAyou.are  ever  so:poor,  yon   may  live  to 

No  ihore  will  he  roaqi.oi"  >vecp    for  -employ, 

^ud  be'll  tcii  Uiemisfurtjines  i^farpogrSmugg 

^ici'j.boy.  ^^> 


E,Hodg€8,  from  PITT-S,  Wholesale  Toy,&  Mar- 
ble  Warehouse,  QJ.  Dudley,  Street,  Seven  IJiab, 

¥'31  gwan, 'I  gwan.to  see  my  lubly  Dino, 

Down  among  de  swamps  in  old  Catlina. 

Happy  den'we'llbe,  in-lub,  1  sa]^ 

Courting  till  de  br^e  ob  de  day, . 
Tra,  la,  la,  in  la,  la,  la,  U,a  la,  la,  a  la,  . 
My  skiff  is'by  the  shore  dere,dont  you  see^ 
Open  den  de  door  an  gwan  wid  me, 
And  as  we  paddle  on,  our  songs  shall  be, 
My  deafest  Diana,  1  Inb  but  de. 

Come,  O  #ina,  comede  time  don't  wasfe. 

Come.  O  Diiia,  come — make  liasle  make,  haste! 

Hop  into  de  boat,  aud  gwan  wid  me, 

Unto  de  Norden  Country. 

Tra.l 

/' 

Now,  O !  now  we  Ub*in  peace  and  pleasur*, 
Bracking  of  de  boots  1  money  makes, 
1  in  Dina  found  a  precious  treasure, 
She  can  hurry  up  de  cakes, 

Tra,  la.  la,  &c 


rw^-^^s 


T  H  E     W  H  I  T  E 


IliLL 


• 


T 


HEsea  was  bright  and  the  bark  rode  well, 
And  thebreese  bore  the  tone   of  the  vesper 
bell  "^ 

'Twas  a  gallant  bark,  with  a  crew  as  brave, 
A«  ever  launched  on  the  heaving  wave. 
She  shooe-in  the  light  of  dealing  dav, 
And  each  sail  was  set  and  each  heart  was  gay. 


^^   They  neared  the  land  where  in  beauty  smiles 

y<^  The  sunny  si  ore  of  the  Grecian  Isles, 

1^  All  thought  of  home,  and  that  welcome  dear, 

J^  That  soon  shall  greet  each  wanderer's  ear. 

P^  And  in  fancy  joind  the  social  throcg, 

^^  Aud  the  festive  dance  apd  the  joyous  song. 


h^  A  whitecloud  flies  through  the  azure  sky, 
^f  ^Vllat  means  that  wild  desparing.ciy  i  ,^_ 

^^  Farewell,  the  vission'd  scenes  of  home,  ^| 

|s<fe  That  cry. is  help  where  no  help  can  come,  .. 

^^^  For.the  white  squab  rides, on. the  surgm  wav^ 
|Ja|  Aad.the;iiark  is^uiph'diinjwrocean^ruvt, 


ii 


Tl 


L 


A  N 


S^Y'ls  of  a  buxom  tally-marv, 
^   Who  dwell*  ill  Lomduti   i'owtt,  ,     , 
Aiid  every  day,,  throughout  the  week. 

He,  always  goes  his  ruuudi;, 
bast'-week  iie  called  ciLiMrs.  BouQce,     • 

A^id  b(;gaa  to  shev/  LIj;  airs,  , 
So  she  wai)oi--d  hini  >vitl2;lhe  rolling  pift. 
And.  k-icke.d  lujii  down-  tke  staii-i. 

Chorus.  * 

Oltle  Bilir  oat  aloud  does  bawl,  , 

And  tto  doeii  Kit  asid  Sa;n, 
dh,!.  luolher,  mother,  shut  the  door/  . 

Here  coiuos  the  tally  man. 
(Spoken)— Good  niurjiiny,  Mrs.  B6unce.    Good 
:Uf*rntug,   Mr. Cheateai,  wiiat  is  _\our  pleasure  this 

rrifiruiiJS;'  ?  ^^'i.v.  I  l»'»P«  y*^"  ^^^^*^  o*'^  **'^*"*^  money 
lor.me?  Oh!  indeed!  my  husband  declares  [shant 
tvay  a  farihing  for  them  infernal  blankets  you  sold 
IneforTs.  Gd.,they  ar»  full  of  nulh  holes,  and  not 
^^^i^four\iiinc(i  a,  \iHiL^e.-  Then  1  shoil  summous 
j^uvMrs.  Bounce,  so  here  goes, 
it  would  make  you  laugli  to  see 

.The.  women  hide  away  coiuplele,  , 
W;heue*er  th.?y  hear  the  tally-uiau 

Is  coming  down  t!:e  street,  . 
B%ie  tun  into  a  naiyiibour's  house,  , 

^  ninvble  it  appears, 
"Wivlijfroihfers  in  thecole-hole  get, 

<jr  uadernealh  the  stairs. 
(3pok.en)— Well,   my  little  boy,  is  your  mother 
al^iome  ?   No,   sir,    iny  mother  is  ju-^t   popt  out. 
Where  is  she  3«<J!ie  to?  Why,   to  the  gin  shopj    I 
suppose.       Has  she  left  nay  money  for  me  f   I  dop't 
liiink  she  has  lelt  any  tor  any  Ijody  ;  but   who  are 
<,'^»Ui.sir?   Who  am    li   Wuy,    1  am  the  tally-man 
lih!;if  you.  are   Mr   Chealem,  the  tally-man,  you 
iiid    betUT  <iut,v  your    atick  ;    for    my    lather  has 
wofiijed  mv  moilier  vrilh  a  bioonjsiick  Ct  buying- 
iltijir  rolf.en  twopenuy  haliive.'iny  calico,  and  mother 
Eii^s  you  are  an  iul'euml  old  ro^ue,  and  I  would  not. 
iiit^^.to  ilaud  in  your  shoes  If  father  catches  yoU. 
There  is  scarce  a  mytniX  i!iL6udujii  Town, 
Let  it  bo  rich  or  pour, 
U   Bbt^yon  will  see  a  tally  man  5 
5;i4M>ckiiig  at  tiie  door, 
Xfc:i^  '^^\^  kuowii  to  any 

TUKt-has  a  ycaiu  of  sense, 
'tliAtii^ty  vUi  maki'joa  pay  a  crown 

For'^hBt^^r  ijol  worth  eis^hieen-pence  - 
(STM>klvh)'--?«&iW'i  Oie*  Mrs.  Ginger,  what  a 
ifflrtij^jUS'thtre  is  over  tlie  Way  at  Mr.  Nippers,  do 
Vo^.i^iiawiwhat  it  is  all  iiBout?  Why  Mr.  Nipper^ 
)b<i,iiiUMt  knov/,'4^  hrts.  .b(;sih'.  tiutniuoiied  by  Mr. 
il'k^i^^^t^  i^\.l^^;pii^i^-to^  fL>r  goods 


taken  upon  the  tally  by  Mrs.  Nijiippr.  llie  two 
J^Hss  Nippers  had  a  new  gowit  each,  a  fine  pair  of 
siockings,  a  buslle,  »ome  laoe  caps,  and  some 
furbelows.  Well,  I  wontiered,  do  you  know  Mrs. 
Ginger,  how  the  d^Vil  the  Nippers  went  so  Hashy 
1  thought  they  umst  have  got  theirthings  up»n  th^ 
tally,  or  some  other  way,  I  coulit  not  tellhow; 
But  there  ll  is  you  see*  Well,  I  g*.»ts  nothing-  t.n 
the  tally,  but  ti  little  tea,  and  that's  alj^  slue  leaves; 
but  tally  shops  are  the  ruination  of  all  persoits,  you 
may  depend  upon  it,  fori  know  very  well  in  our 
street,  that  there  is  many  a  woman  takes  out 
a  tremendous  lot  of  things  unknown  to  their  hus- 
bailds,  who  never  find  it  out  until  they  are  snmrnoned 
to  pay  a  pound  for  aiticle'*  not  worth  five  shi^llings. 

Pray.aMrs.  Ginger,  are  you  at  home  ? 
Bawls  out  the  Tally-man 

No,  Mr.  Swindle,  I'm  not,  she  cries, 
Aud  you  must  understand, 

That  call  when  you  will  my  husband  swears 
You  sliall  not  have  a  mag. 

Since  you've  turu'd  rogue,  you  took  me  in,  -' 

For  your  things.are  nil  a  gag, 
.  (Spoken) — Is  year  mother  at  homo,  m\  Jjitie  firl, 
lo"  sir.  Where  id  she.  flow  should  i  knuM'. 
/Vhy\  1  saw  liyr  locking  o6t  of  the  \uu*iow,  and  I 
hhw  her  popping  out  of  the  door  jtist  now,  and  if  I 
-^m  not  mistakea,  she  is  gone  to  her  uncle's  to  soout 
a  shawl  for  a  shilling,  that  she  got  upon  the  tally 
tor  18s.  Od.  Is  your  father  at  home.  No,  my 
fathtr's  gone  a  hopping  and  he  wanted  to  oet  a 
donkey  on  the  tally,  but  mother  could  not  tell  where 
to  hud  the  tally-man.  .  Oh  I  he  did,  did  he.  Ye?, 
he  did  indeed. ;  Where  is  your  sister.  In  her  skin 
I  suppose.  Well  my  girl  you  are  a  keen  lass.  Ah! 
so  njolher  says,  half  as  keen  as  a  tally-man,  but  not 
so  big  a  rogue,  and.  i  can  assure  yoU,  that  some- 
U»jdy  in  u  family  need  be  a  little  sharp,  for  if  every 
one  '.vji!^  so  silly  as  my  mother,  we  should  be  hunted 
to  death  by  tally-men,'  who  would  sell  you  their 
rubbisli,  and  ex pect eleven-pence  half -periny  proht 
out  of  a  shilling. 

Every  day  throughout  the  week,  - 
So  visit  rich  aud  poor. 

You  may  behold  the  tally  man^  , 

A  creeping  near  the  door,  ' 

The  children  will  bawl  out  aloud;  ,  '• 

Mr.  Tally  man,  1  say,  [ 

Mother  is  in  the  station  house,   .  ^ 

Aud  father  i^  run  away.  .  {, 

\      ,    E.  Hodges  from  PITT's  Toy  and  Marblt^ 


IIS  O'LY 

UNCLE   JNED 


H  F  ODGES,  Print- r,  (from  PITTS)  whole- 
sale    I'oy  and  Vlaible  warelioust',  31,  Djidl^y 
8treel,  btjven  Dials. 


B^ 


•  R  Y  A  V    O'Lynn  was  a  s^entl^Jiuan  horn, 

'      He  liv  d  at  a  time  when  no  clotbcs  ihey 

were  worn, 

But  as  fashion  waKed  out  of  course   B  yan 

«altLediQ,  [Lynn. 

VVhoo.  rU  »ot>n  lead  the  fasbions,  says  Brjao 

CUOAUS. 

I>o,  do,  do,  it  '11  do,  ^ 

Says  13r\aa  0'L}nn  it  'II  do. 

jrya  *  O  Lyno  had  n  >  breechfs  to  w<»ar, 
He  goi  s'afepsskius  for  to  makt:  him  »  pair, 
W  itb  the  fleshy  sido  out  and  ;he  wooly  side  ^n, 
Whou,  tliey're   pleasaut  and  cool,  saj.s  Hryan 
O'Lyiin. 

Bryan  O'Lynn  bad  no  shiit  to  hh  back. 
He  went  tu  a  neighbuuv's  uod  borrowM  a  sack, 
Then  iie  puckerMtbe  meal  bagup  under  his  chin 
\k  lioo,  thev'il  take  ibem  for  rufiies,  says  Bryan 
O'Lynn. 

Bryan  O'Lynn  bad  no  hat  on  his  bead, 
He  stuck  on  the  po   beinjr  up  to  the  dead, 
Thtn  he  murdered  a  cod  for  th**  s^ke  of  its  fin, 
Whoo, 'twill  pass  for  a  feather,   8a\s  Bryan 
07iyun. 

Bryan  O'Lynn  was  bard  qp  fo-  a  coat. 
He  borrowi-d  a  skai  fr-.m  a  nei<.hb;)uring  go^t 
With  the  horns  siickin-   out  from   the  oxters 
end  then,  [Bryan  O'Lvnu. 

Whoo,  they'll    take    them    f«.r   pistoU,  sajs 

Bryan  O'Lynn  had  no  st  ckinjjs  to  wear, 
He  bought  a  rat's  skin  to  m  ke  him  a  ^nir. 
He  then  drew  iheiu  over  I. is  manl^  8rtin[0'Lynn 
A- boo,     theyie    ill  gant     Avear.    sdys    Bryan 

Bryan  O'Lynn  had  no  brogne  to  bis  to  s  Ithose 
U'.  hopp'a  in  two  crab  x\m\h  to  serve  h  m  f.r 
Then  ho   split  up    tw.»  ousters  thai   mUc  ed 
likeaJwin,  [Brjan  O'Lynn. 

Whoo,    ihty'll  »bi»e   out    like  buckler    »<»ys 


Bryan  O  Lynn  hid  no  wa  fch  to  put  on. 
He  scooped  out  a  turnip  to  muk<'  him  n  one. 
Then  lie  planted  a  cricket  right  un^ier  the  s'  in, 
whoo,  th-y'll  iliitik   its  a  Jic<  ne,  s<ivs  Brya* 
O'Lynn.  • 

Bryan  O'Lynn  to  bis  house  had  no  door. 
He'd  the  .  ky  for  a  roof,  and  the  bog  for  a  flot>r 
HeM  a  way  to  jump  out,  and  a  way  to  swim  hi. 
Whoo,   it's  mighty  convaynient^  says  Br^au 
O  Lynn. 

Bryan  O'Lynn  went  a  courting  one  night, 
He  set  both  (be  mother  and  daughter  t«>  6|ibt, 
To  fight  for  his  hand  thev  both  Btripped  to  ta« 
akin,  lO'Lvna. 

Whoo,     I'll    raa;ry    you    both,    says    Brj»R 

Br.van  O'Lynn,  his  wife  and  his  wife's  mothf  r, 

Tl  ey  all  lay  down  in  the  bed  togt;th«T, 

The   sheets  they  were  ould  aud    the  blank  (« 

were  thin, 
Lir  close  to  the  wall,  says  Bryan  O'Lynn, 

Bi  yf  I  O  Lynn,  bis  wi-e  and  his  wife's  mot!  er, 

I  h>  yall  went  home  o  er  the  bridge  togeilifr, 

Tiie  bjidjicii  broke  down  «nd  Ihi-y  all  tumbled 

in.  [O'LvBH. 

Wh'X).    we'll    go  home  by  water,   says  Brvaa 

UWOLE  NED 

I  ot^ce  knew  a  nigger  and  his  nanae  was  Uncle 
B  t  he's  gone  dead  long  ago,  [Ned 

He's  got  no  wool  ou  the  top  of  hi«  head, 
In  the  place  wuere  wo  1  ought  to  grow. 

CHOBG^- 

Hand  up  the  shovel  and  the  hoe, 
Lay  dowij  the  fi  dJe  and  the  bo  v. 
There  s  no  more  wurk  fr  poor  Old  Ned, 
He's  goac  where  the  good  niggfr-rs  go. 

His  nail*  were  a-»  long  as  the  cane  in  the  break. 
Hi 's  goi  no  €}«■;  for  to  s.>c, 
He's  got  no  teetlj  to  eai  the  oat  eake. 
He's  lorctd  lo  let  the  oat  c  ke  be. 
cu  aus. 
Hand  up  the  shov  i  aod  the  hoe,  &c. 

On  a  cold  frosty  raorning  this  Nij^ger  lie  ditd. 
In  the  churi  hyard  they  laid  h  m  low, 
And  t!ie  Nigt-efs  all  said  that  they  were  afraid^ 
Hi»  l.k«  they  never  should  knx^w. 

CHOKUS. 

HaiMi  Mp  the  shovel  uod  the  l>oe,  be. 


IM. 


THK    DF.ATH    OF 


O'RAFFETY 


Hodjies,  Prill  er    wliolesale  TO)  &  Mirhlf  war- house, 

31.  D4i<ll«\  Stre  t,  7  Dials. A  Great  collection  of 

Ol'i  and  Ne*'  Songs. 

I  am  just  going  to  hin;i:  t"  vou  of  Paddy  O  Raffety, 
I'm  -ure  ye  ht 'rd  lell  cf  Mis.>  Briifget  OUuuglit  rty. 
At  len^tli  she  became  the  larii«  part  of  mv  property, 
Ami  ihe  «'evil  mav  lake  Mich  a  comical  tradgedy. 

When  I  wa^  mairied  all  tliini;s  werein.t  ii<»htwiih  me 
Tliert-  was  a  hole  in  the  ballad,felie  was  not  long  quiet 

v*i  h  me, 
The  poker  an  I  tongs  she  threw  1.  ft  and  righ^  of  me, 
And  th  Is  the  vkay  sh«  kick'd  up  the  first  niglil  with  me 
My  cu.se  on  the  Hay  Mi-is  Judy  first  ran  with  me. 
Her  people  all  said  a  oseat  denl  she  thougiit  of  me, 
But  sooner  she  learnd  to  fight  an<l  to  biay  at  me, 
And  if  I  said  a  v»ord  shed  t^  reaten  th;>  go:d  for  me. 

My  curse  on  the  day  Miss  Judy  first  got  nt  me, 
Pm  sure  I'll  remcmhev  it  while  there's  a  drop  in  me, 
Shs  spoon'd  me  so  flac  she  almost  ma<le  a  fork  of  me 
H<av.ng  the  stonea  aiidbric'xs  •  n  the  top  of  me. 

To  gather  some  tuif  I  wtnt  to  the  bog  wilh  her, 
1  o  keep  lier  in  humour,  she  brought  some  grog  with 
her,  (her 

She  supt  and  she  drank  till  her  liead  went  agog  with 
She  slither'd  and  into  a  hole  in  the  bog  with  her. 

O,  husband,  dear  husband!  for  me.cy  she  bawl'd  out 
O,  husband,  dear  husband  !   for  mercy  shecall'd  out, 
She  put  lip  her  hands  siie  thought  for  to  crawl  out 
But  her  head  1  drove  down,  'tdl  htr  breath  came  all 
out. 

Now  Judy  is  dead  and  there  wa»  the  lot  of  her, 
The  last  si-ht  1  saw  was  the  be.st  1  got  of  lier,      (her 
But  n.ore  look  (o  ihat  boir  hole  that  soon  put  a  stop  to 
And  oiil\  the  ground  being  soft  Pd  dance  on  the  lop 
of  her. 


CHOBHAM     CAMP. 

Come  haste  away  without  delay. 

And  merrily  .  n  be  tramping. 
To  Chol.ham  Heath,  whie  drums  shall  beat 

And  see  ihe  sohliers  camjuu"  ; 
Ttn  thousand  soldiers  horse  and  foot, 

And  nobles  will  be  mingling^, 
There  was  never  such  a  sight  bt  fore, 

^  In  any  part  of  Kn<;land. 
To  Ohobham  Heath,  where  drums  shall  beat 

V\  iiat  noDibers  v. ill  be  tramping, 


ft 


N 


N 
It 

U 


Ten  thousand  soldiert  horse  and  foot, 
Are  gloriousi}  encamping. 

Ohl  England's  Queen  so  fine  and  keen, 

The  e  thonsands  will  behold  her, 
f/n  Choblmm  Heath   O,  what  a  treat, 

Review  ten  thousand  soldiers. 
Th«  bugle  horn  shall  merrily  play. 

The  Chobham  bells  sh  .11  ring,  sirs. 
And  prettv  gals  ihall  haste  away. 

From  E*haiTi,  Stains,  and  Windsor. 

Swf  et  Ba^ohot  Fan.  &  her  flash  man, 

\nd  little  Br«cknell  Betsey, 
With  Friiiilev  Jane,  thro'  field*  and  lanes 

And  all  the  snobs  fsom  Gherlsey. 
There's Odih.m  Poll,  like  a  wax  doll, 

'I  he  husband,  wife  and  daughter. 
And  sncli  a  lot  of  pretty  girls. 

From  Sandhurst  and  Blackwater. 

The  prttty  maids  are  net  afraid, 

The  soldiers  will  not  harm  'em, 
'i'heres  blooming  girls  with  veils  &  carls, 

And  rosev  cheeks  from  Fasnham. 
Two  rum  old  ladies  nmety-five, 

rVith  faces  like  a  cinder, 
To  follow  the  durm,  they  gave  a  run. 

Right  thro'  the  garret  window. 

From  Spain  and  France  the  mob  will  daoce 

ToCh»»bham  Heath  so  hearty. 
Aad  on  the  groumd  Til  bft  a  pound, 

The  Emperor  Bonaparte, 
Would  like  to  be,  our  Queen  to  see. 

And  gaily  to  behold  her. 
Eyes  left  aud  right  in  armour  bright 

View  england's  gallant  soldiers. 

You  pretty  girls  with  rings  bt  curls, 

\A  ith  bustles,  veils  and  bracep. 
Ruam  on  so  neat  to  chobham  Heatn^ 

And  show  your  pretty  faces, 
Ihere  may  be  seen  Brittannia's Queen, 

Uudaunted  there  behold  her, 
In  armour  bright,  girl*  if  you  lik«^ 

Eneamp  with  England's  soldiers. 

In  pleasant  June,  Buch  glorious  tunci. 

On  chobham  Heath  will  cheer  us, 
And  cv'ry  nation  in  the  world, 

In  time  of  wjir  shall  fear  us. 
Brittannia's  deeds  proud  France  may  read,' 

Victory  all  times  did  crown  her. 
If  Boney  comes  to  chobham  oamp. 

We'll  showhim  English  power. 


Then  haste  so  neat  to  chobham  Heath, 
with  husband,  son,  \  daughter 

And  then  away,  fine,  spruee  &  gar 
To  lamed  Virginia  water.' 


ALB 


A  N  i: 


JOHN 
EHSON 


3    Uudges,  from  Pitts,  Wholesale  Toy  and  Marble  ^ 
0       WareHousp,  31 .  Diulley  Street,  Seven  "Diuls.     ^ 


I  Jolm   An<Ier!»on,  my  jn,  wlien  wo  were  first  nrqtient 

Your  locks  Wf*re  like  (he  raven*  your  bony  brow  wusbrrnl 

-But  now  yere  tiifieJ  bald.  John,  your  locks  are  like  the  snow 

My  Wtf&*4i>gs  on  your  fiosl)  |)0w,  JuUn  Anderson,  my  jo 

.Jt4vo  Aivd«>r8on,  my  jn,  .Tobfly  ye  were  my  first  conceit. 

Aud  ay,  at  1<irk  and  Market  I've  kept  you  trim  and  neat 
H»cre'ii  Rome  fulKa  say  ye're  auld  John,  but  I  scarce  beli(  ve 
it's  stK  (jo. 

Vttt  ye're  tbe  same  liind  man  to  ae,  John  Ajid^rson,  my 

John  Anderson,  my  jo,  John,  were  seen  onr  bairns* tmims, 
Ami  yet  my  df^t.r  Jolin  And»:'r8«in  I  am  iiappy  in  your  arms. 

And  sae  are  ye  in  mine,  John,  I'm  sure  yell  ne'er  say  no, 
Tlwju^h  the  days  are  gone  that  we  hue  seen  John  Aoder- 
■  Van,  luy  jo. 

Jo'f  !i  A  nilcrfiori,  niy  jo,  John,  oni  siller  nee'r  wa«  rife, 
^     *«d  )ct  wc  ne'er  saw  p<jv<Tty  eince  we  were  man  and  wife, 
\Ws4'.  ay  ha'cn  bit  and  biat,  Jolm,  great  b'esxin^s  here  below 
Aud  Ihut  helpH  to  keep  peaceat  hamc,  John  Anderson  myjo 

J'.'^n  Anderson,  my  fo,  John,  (he  warld  looa  us  baitb'^ 

We  ne'er  speak  ill  o'neighbours,  John,  nor  did  them  ©ny 
skaith, 
/J't  live  in  peace  and  qyielne^s  was  a*our  care  y<^  know, 
AKil  I'm  sure  Iheyll  greet  wb«n  wo  are  dead,  John  Aader- 
tjA>n,  my  jo. 

Jol»n  Anderson,  my  jo,  John,  fine  year  toyrnr^e*ve  pant, 
A^Tid  soon  that  \ear  niann -come  John,  will  bring  us  to  our 
last, 

Ktil  \«t  not  that  affngbt  usJolm,  onr  hearts  were  ne'er  our  foe 
While  iu  delight  w«  liave  lived,  Jubn  AudenM>n  my  jo. 

John  Anderson,  my  jo.  Jolm,  we*vo  damb  the  hifl  thegitlicr, 
and  money  a  canty  day,  J<ihn,  we've  had  wi  ane  aoith'  r, 

"Now  wc  ti  aim  tuttcr  down,  John,  but  hand  in  hand  \''V  11  go, 
AuU  we'll  sleijn  Uugither  at  the  foot  John  Au«leraou  ray  jo. 


RICHMOND  HILL 

On  Hiclimond  liHI  there  lives  a  ]as?», 
More  briglit  timu  May-<iay  morn, 

Whose  rharnnsail  otiier  luaids  surpass 
A  rose  without  a  thorH. 


This  lass  so  n^at,  Avlth  smiles  so  swec 
Has  won  my  lieart's  iiootl  ^^iH; 

T^d  crowns  lesiijn  to  call  her  mine. 
Sweet  lass  ot  Kichmond  hill. 

Ye  zepliyrs  f^ay  that  fan  tlic  air» 
And  wanton  through  tlie  jLirove. 

O  whisper  then  my  charming  fair, 
I  die  ib r  her  I  love. 


HOW  happy  will  this  shepiierd  be 
Who  rails  this  nymph  his  own, 

O  may  her  ehoire  l;e  iix'd  on  me. 
Mines  iixed  on  Iier  aloiie« 


SONS  OF    ALBION 

YOU  Sons  of  Albion,  take  npyour  artif 
And  meet  the  haii^hty  bann, 

They  threaten  us  with  wars  alarms, 
To  invade  our  native  land 


c'liorajs. 

N<»ithcr  rebels,  French,  or  sans  cullott(2 
Nor  the  dupes  of  tyranny  boast, 

Siiall  conquer  the  English,  the  Irish,  ( 
Scotch, 
Nor  shall  land  upon  our  coast. 

There  is  hopeless  Holland  wear§  tt 
yolie, 

And  so  doth  faithless  ^pain. 
But  we  will  give  them  hearts  of  oak, 

An<ldrive  titem  oil* the  main. 

The  commanders  of  ihe  Universe, 

Or  else  they  wish  to  he, 
Hut  we  ^ull  shew  them  the  revc^-o, 

And  i^et  old  Kngla:iii  tree 


THE 


CRADLE. 

K.  Hodges,  Printer  (from  Fitts*)  Wliolesale   To^ 
&  Marble  Warehouse,  26,  Grafton  St,  Soho 


A 


S  I  roved  out  on  a  fine  summers  morning, 
Down  by  a  clear  river  I  walked  ail  alone, 
I  heard  a  poor  man  niuking  sad  lamtntaiioo. 
And  thus  he  began  to  make  his  sad  moan, 

CHORUS. 
Crying  ochone,  that  ever  1  niarrierl, 
W  hich  leaves  me  in  sorrow,  alas,  to  bemoan  ? 
Weeping  and  wailing  and  rockine;^  a  cradle, 
And  nursing  a  chiM  that  is  none  of  your  own. 

I  listrn'd  awhile  to  his  sad  lamentation, 
Perhaps  ihat  the  story  il  rai^ht  be  my  own, 
i>o  fondly  he  huggd  and  dandled  the  baby, 
Your  mammy  ha«  left  me,  ma  croc  es  ma  vrone 

It's  every  day  she  walks  with  her  bully. 
And  leave  me  the  cradle  to  rock  all  alone, 
This  innocent  baby  he  calls  me  his  daddy. 
It's  liltle  he  knows  that  he's  none  of  my  own. 

My  wife  she  comes  in  in  the  heel  of  the  ev'ning. 
She  calls  co  me  smartly  the  kettle  to  put  (iown, 
She  sits  to  her  tab'e  and  to  her  tea-dnnking. 
She  cries,   you  old  cuckold,  come  rock  tiie  child 
sound. 

As  soon  as  she  opens  I.er  eyes  in  the  morning, 
She  says,  yon  o!dra  cal  come  bring  me  a  draw. 
To  kindle  the  fire  and  get  her  the  breakfriSt, 
I  must  nurse  the  baby-  unti)  she  is  done. 

When  first  I  met  with  your  inconstant  mother; 
1  thought  myself  happy  and  blest  with  a  wife 
Now  to  my  sorrow,  sadgri.f  and  vexation, 
She  Las  prov»d  a  torture  and  plague  of  my  life. 

Now  for  to  finish  my  sad  lamentation, 
All  you  that  is  single  pray  ne'er  take  a  wife; 
For  if  that  you  do  thev  «iU  surely  torment  you, 
And  prove  a  sad  ruin  all  the  days  of  your  life. 

CHORUS 
Crying,  ochone  that  ever  i  married, 
Which  leaves  me  in  sorrow,  silas,  to  bemoan  ? 
Hiisba,  baby,  it's  close  and  be  aisy, 
I'm  sure  \our  own  father  s\  ill  never  b»  known. 


ROUSD, 

BROTHERS  BOUSE 


fl 


OUSE,  brothers,  rouse!  the  way  is  long 

before  us, 
Free  as  the  winds  me  love  to  roam, 
Far  thro'  the  prairie,  far.thro'  the  forest,"^ 

Over  the  mountains  we'll  find  a  home  ; 
We  cannot  breatlie  in  crowded  cities, 

W  e^re  stranjfers  to  the  ways  of  trade, 
VVe  long  to  feel  the  grass  beneath  us. 
And  ply  the  hatchet  and  the  spade. 

Rouse,  brothers,  rouse  f  &c. 

Meadows  and  hills  and  ancient  woodlands. 

Offer  us  p^isture,  fruit  and  corn, 
Needing  our  presence,  courting  our  labour, 

Why  should  we  linger  like  men  forlorn. 
We  love  to  hear  the  ringing  rifle. 

The  smiting  axe,  tho  fallen  -tree  ; 
And  though  our  life  be  rough  and  lonely, 

If  it  be  honest— what  care  we  ? 

Rouse,  brothers,  &c* 

Fair  elbow-room  for  men  to  thrive  in, 

wide  elbow-room  for  work  or  play, 
If  cities  follow    tracking  our  footsteps. 

Ever  to  westward  shall  point  our  way. 
Rude  ih«ugh  our  life,  it  suits  our  spirit, 

And  new-born  states  in  future  years. 
Shall  owB  us  founders  of  a  nation. 

And  bless  the  hardy  pioneers. 

Rouse,  brothers^  &e« 


rlll^Ii.  Ifaii  of  Warv 


;    ^ijo  flaimiiug  Ihig  af  libeity. 

Of  (jlalliii  s  huns  t\\^  boast,       ,.t5& 
Qh,  ivever  ovay  a  Bi  it-oa  sed  ■  '    /-. 

Ujionthf  British  coa.->l; 
TJiie  oiiU  (lag  lU<it  iVeecloiu  rears»       "■-     • 
**      11  ur  eiubiciiJ  vii  iho  seas. 
Is  the  (laj;-  tliat'.s  bravctt  a  tliousand  years  , 

itie  baitlc  ciiiu  tke  breeze. 
'Sp  aid  the  IruJiupled  rights  of  man, 

Aiidlneak.  oppression's ch;»iu,  ^^''^ 

a'be  fottJUioslvn.tlie  battles  vau,^  {      •'^'  ^ 

It  uev^r  tluals.  in  vuin  ;  '  V%^-., 

.  Tlie  marmor  wlieie'er  iie  steers,,         '  ''\=^^*?- 
la  every  tiime  he  sees,  _.^; 

The  dag  that's  braved  a  thousand  years  ■  '■; 

Tiie,  balUe  uad  ike  breeze..  '^ 

If  all  unite  as, once  .we  did,  '5.^ 

To  keep  her  Hag;  unfurled,  y  -^'1. 

Qfid  EriKiauci  still  may  fearless  bid 

Detiaiicd  tt)  the  wuild; 
■gyt  fast  will  tlow  lb©  nation's  tears 

if  lawless  bai)ds  should  seize, 
"The  flaj5  thai's  braved  a  ihousaad  years 
The  battle  and  the  breeze. 


THE  BRITISH  MAM  OF  WAR. 
Ij  was  down  in  yonder  meadows.I  carelessly  did 

Ktfav, 
Axkf\  Ibebeid  a  lady  lair  wi<h  some  young  sailergay 
ifevsaid.  my  lovely  Susau,  I  suou.u;ust  leave  the 

sLor<£, 
4ljlkd, to, cross  the  briny  ocean  ia  a  British  man  of 

wa;:. 
3g?ptty  Su^an  fell  to   weeping,  oh,  yoUDg  sailor, 

she  did  sav,^ 
i^pw  can  vou  be  so,v$;nturesome  to  throw  yourself 
uwav  ?"> 
-     R  HO.DOE's  CFrojii,i*nTs,)  wholesale  Toy 


wlu'iv.tbut  I'uitj  iw<'itt,-.o.Hei..i:;>ilijdl  iecti\e  »iy 

Jolh  >^ai!()r.  do  not  venture  in  a  Br.ili.sh  i»jm  (>l">vnr., 
( )    S  U.S  a n ,  I o  V *  l.y  S'usa  nij  l  be  tn u  h  t o  m ^a.i  w i  1 1 .  -  «.•  11 
TJie  Brltj-sh  llui^..  itj^ulted   is,  aid    En- laud  knuvs- 

it  well,. 
T  ni«y  he   c/owned   with  la  irelj  so  i.lce  a.jo!ly,f;it*, , 
I  wili  face  the  walls  oL.Chiua  i»  a^Biilisb  r.\&M  pjf  ivar. 
O,   sr.Jt^i'i    f^a.noL  ven/iure  for  to  laceihe  y^tuud; 

Giiin-sa,c, 
For  r'.ey  Will  |>i'ove  «&.treacliert)U9  as  .apy  PorUi-' 

guese, 
And  by,  som,§.  deadly    dagger  yous  may.  receive  a^ 

scar,. 
So  i(8-turn  your  iitolinatojxfronj  a. British  mAM  of-r 

war. 
!^iisan,,  lovely  Sasan,  the  time  w'll  qulck'y  pass. 
So  come  down  to  thv  ferry  house  and  take  a  p.r-  . 

My, shipmates  ihey  are  waging  tt> row  n>e  fii.m , 
the  shiMe, ,  (ofwnr. . 

And  it's  for  old  Eugland^'.gJory  in  a  Bri<ish  ui.m  . 

I'hea  thf  Sailor  took  his  bandkerchicf  andcat  it; 
fair  in  two, . 

0  Susan,  keep  one  ■  half  for  me  and   Ml  do   tlie 
same  by  you. 

The  bullets  may  suiround  me  aod  cannons  loui'll/ 
ryar, .  _  (>^ar. . 

1  will  fiiiirt  far  fame  a,nd  Susan  in  a  British  jtjannf 
fheti  a  few  ruure  words  lo^ethei-  when  her.bve  let  i 

go  her  hand. 
.\  jovial  crew  they  iauncbed  the  boat  and  merrily 
from  land, 

The  Sailor  waved  his  handkerchief  wh&n  far  away 

from  shore,  (war» 

Pretty  Susan   blest  her  sailor  in  a  Biitish  man  of    ; 
A  seaman's  lifia  is  ^.life.IJove,  and  one  I'll  hve  und 

die, 
With    the  sea  below,  and  the  sky  above,  and  the- 

billows  mountains  higli. 
1  love  to  hear  the  breakers  dash  and  wild  winds 

roar  around. 
The  thunder  roll,  and  the  lightfiing  flasb,,and  llie>  ■; 

sea  birds  welcome  scniud,  ?  X 

OHQliCS. ,  ! 

Than   hnrrah   for  the  deep,  the  briny  deep,  the 

boutidless  glorious  seji. 
In  a  calm  or  storm,  iii  every  form,  a  seaman's  life 

for  me. , 
Some  may  boast  of  The  grand. And  the  dis»<mt  land 

and  the  joys  of  a  peac^'fui  home, 
I  envy  not  their  chosen  lot,  O  give  me  the  crested ; 

foam, 
l%e  gondolier  in    his  bark:  m.ay.  steer,  o'er  Ifero 

riplingmoonlij^bt  wav^. 
14aagh  at  his  joys,   here's  a  tgas',  my  boys,  may, 

tljye  sea  be  our  welcome  grave... 

Ti.en  hurrah  tor  the  deep,  A-e,  A'<|j 
&  Marble^ '^liMi^^oustt  31.  i>udJi*y7*l/7lJiyjL,^'^ 


CAMP  4T  CH0BIIA9I. 


Tin:    DMATH    OF 

MRS.  O'RAFFETY 

J^o(^<i•pv.  Prin  er   wlii'les;ile  TO}  &  M  -rhle  war  holls^', 

HI.  Dii  IU'\  Stre  t,  7  Dials. A  Great  collection  of 

OM  cind  Nga'  Sonj^s. 

I  am  just  going  to  sin^  to  von  of  F^adiiy  O  RafFety, 
I'm  sure  ye  he  vd  'e\\  '-f  Mis-,  Bri^'get  O'Dyiighi  rty, 
At  length  she  became  the  laiije  part  of  mv  properly, 
And  \he  lievil  may  take  Mich  a  comical  Iradgedy. 

When  I  wa-i  married  nil  thin<;s  were  not  ri^htwilli  me 
Tliere  was  a  hole  in  the  ballad, slie  was  not  ionij  quiet 

vi'h  me, 
The  poker  an  I  tongs  she  tliicw  U  f I  and  righ^  of  me. 
And  th  Is  the  way  sh*  kickM  up  the  first  niglit  with  me 
My  tu.se  on  the  day  Mis  Judy  firs>t  ran  with  me. 
Her  people  all  said  a  oieat  de-il  she  thought  of  nie, 
But  f-ooner  she  learn'd  to  fight  and  to  hi  ay  at  me, 
And  if  I  said  a  v»ord  she  d  t  reaien  tht-  go:d  for  me. 

My  curse  on  the  day  Miss  Judy  first  got  at  n)e, 
I'm  sure  I'll  remember  it  while  there's  a  drop  in  me, 
Shs  spoon'd  me  so  fine  she  almost  made  a  fork  of  me 
Heaving  the  stOnCh  andbl•icl^s  «  n  the  top  of  me. 

To  ffiither  some  tuif  I  went  to  the  bog  with  her, 
1  o  keep  her  in  humour,  she  brought  some  grog  with 
her,  (her 

She  supt  and  she  drank  till  her  bead  went  agog  with 
She  slither'd  and  into  a  hole  in  the  bog  with  her. 

O,  husband,  Hear  husband.'  for  me.cy  ihe  bawl'd  oyt 
O,  husbant,  dear  husband  !   for  mercy  shecall'd  oat, 
SJie  put  lip  her  hands  she  thought  for  to  crawl  out 
But  her  iieau  I  drove  down,  'till  htr  breath  came  ail 
out. 

Now  Judv  in  dead  and  there  wa»  the  lot  of  her. 
The  last  si-ht  I  «aw  was  the  best  1  got  of  lier.      (her 
But  fT.ore  look  to  thai  bog^  hole  that  soon  put  a  stop  to 
Aud  oi.i>  the  ground  being  soft  I'd  dance  on  the  lop 
of  her.  ^ 


u 


4- 


n 


u 


CHOBHAM     CAMP. 

Come  haste  away  witliout  delay, 

And  merrily  in  be  tramping, 
To  Chohiiam  Heath,  wh-re  drums  shall  beat 

And  see  the  &t)kliers  campiug  ; 
Ten  thousand  soldiers  horse  and  foot, 

And  nobles  will  be  mingling, 
There  wjis  never  such  a  sight  before. 


n 


V  In  any  part  ol  Knglaod 
To  Chobiiam  Heath,  w 


'"ere  drums  shall  bcut 
V\  iwt  jQumbera  v^ili  be  trainpiog, 


Ten  thousand  sold ieri  horse  and  foot, 
Are  gloriouslx  encimping. 

OM  England's  Queen  so  fine  and  keen, 

The  e  thousands  will  behold  her, 
Cn  Chobiiam  Heath   O,  what  a  treat, 

Review  ten  thousand  soldiers. 
'I"l)«  bugle  horn  shall  merrily  play, 

The  Chobiiam  be' Is  sh  .11  ring,  sirs,  ^ 
And  pretty  gals  »hall  haste  away, 

From  E*;ha(T),  Stains,  and  Windsor. 

Sw'  et  Bajoiiot  Fan.  &  her  flash  man, 

\nd  little  Brncknell  Betsey, 
With  Friii.lev  Jane,  thro"  field*  and  lanes 

And  all  (he  snobs  fsom  Ghertsey. 
I'liere'sOdih  'm  Poll,  like  a  wax  doll, 

'I  he  husband,  wife  and  daughter, 
And  8'ich  a  lot  of  pretty  girls, 

From  Sandhurst  and  Blackwater. 

The  pretty  maids  are  nr*  afraid, 
The  soldiers  will  not  harm  'era, 

'iheres  blooming  pirls  with  veils  &t  curls, 
And  rosev  ciieeks  from  Fasnham. 

Two  rum  old  ladies  ninety-fivo, 
.Villi  faces  like  a  cinder, 

To  follow  (he  durm,  they  gave  a  run^ 
Right  thro'  the  garret  window. 

From  Spain  and  France  the  mob  will  danoe 

To  Ciutbham  Heath  so  hearty. 
Aad  on  the  groumd  Til  bet  a  pound, 

The  Emperor  Bonaparte, 
Would  like  to  be,  our  Queen  to  see. 

And  gaily  to  behold  her, 
Eyes  left  aud  right  in  armour  bright 

View  england's  gallant  soldiers. 

You  prrtty  girls  with  rings  At  curls, 

V\  ith  bustles,  veils  and  brace*. 
Roam  on  so  neat  to  chobham  Heatn, 

And  show  your  pretty  faces, 
There  may  be  s' en  Brittannia's  Queen, 

Undaunted  there  behold  her, 
In  armour  bright,  girl«  if  you  like, 

Encamp  with  England's  soldiers. 

In  pleasant  June,  tuch  glorious  funet, 

On  chobham  Heath  will  cheer  us, 
And  GvVy  nation  in  the  world, 

In  time  of  war  shall  fear  us. 
Erittannia''s  deeds  proud  France  may  rtad. 

Victory  all  times  did  crown  her. 
If  Boney  comes  to  chobham  oamp, 

VV^e'll  sbowhim  EngliBh  power, 

Then  haste  so  neat  to  chobham  Heath, 

with  husband,  son,  cV  daughter 
A  pd  then  away,  fine,  spruee  &  gay 

To  famed  Virginia  water. 


^  '/ 


DUKE  OF 


rmim 


Sec.  8.  

You  Generals  all  and  chaminons  bold, 
Who  take  delight  in  the  liold, 

That  knock  down  palaces  and  castle  walls, 
But  now  to  death  I  must  yield. 

I  must  go  and  face  the  foe, 
With  sword  and  with  shield, 

I  always  fought  with  my  merry  men. 

But  now  to  death  I  must  yield. 
ji'  ,    - 

j,  I  am  an  Englishman  by  birth, 

I  And  Marlbrough  is  my  name, 

|v         In  Devonshire  I  drew  my  breath, 
That  place  of  noble  fame, 
I  was  beloved  by  all  my  men, 
King  and  princes  likewise, 
Tho'  many  towns  I  often  took, 
I  did  the  world  surprise. 

King  Charles  the  Second  I  did  serve, 

To  face  our  foes  in  France, 
And  at  the  battle  of  Ramilies, 

We  boldly  did  advance. 
The  sun  was  down,  the  earth  did  shake, 

So  loudly  did  I  cry. 
Fight  on,  my  brave  boys,  for  England's  joy. 

We'll  conquer  or  Ave'll  nobly  die. 

Now  we  have  gained  the  victory. 

And  l)ravely  kept  the  field, 
We've  taken  a  number  of  prisoners. 

And  forced  them  to  yield. 
That  very  day  my  horse  was  shot. 

All  by  a  musket  ball. 
As  I.  was  mounting  up  again. 

My  Aid-de-camp  did  fall. 

Now  on  a  bed  of  sickness  laid, 

I  am  resigned  to  die. 
Yet  generals  and  champions  bold. 

Stand  true  as  well  as  I. 
Take  no  bribes,  stand  true  to  your  men. 

And  fight  with  courage  bold, 
I  have  led  my  men  through  smoke  and  fire, 

But  ne'er  was  bribed  with  gold. 


T  I  WMTTO 

PARODY     ON     WHEN     FiRST    1     WENT     Ti)    SE  .. 


/ 

WHEN  first  lS»ent  to  tea, 
W  i  h  M  ss  EHzahr-th  Fry, 
I'd  an  over  clock  of  mod  sty 

For  a  baslifui  chap  was  1  ; 
1  didn't  pr/8s  my  suit, 

But  sit  there  like  a  mute, 
While  slie  kept  winking  at  me  mv  boys 

Said  she  w.s  thin'^ing  of  me  niy  boys 
And  she  tiddled  me  under  the  kneei  injf  boya 

When  first  1  went  to  'lea. 

When  next  J  went  to  tea, 

I  didn't  ft  el  so  shy. 
Come  m-ike  yourself  at  home,  said  she, 

S>  I  th.)Ujjht  IM  have  a  try 
I  help'd  myself  to  a  chair. 

She  call'd  me  iier  duck  and  a  dear, 
Then  she  sit  on  my  knees  my  boyg. 

And  to  kiss  hrr  I  made  free  my  boys,  ; 

Sue  only  said  fiJdle-de-dee  my  boys 

\\  ben  first  I  went  (o  Tea* 

I  kept  OM  going:  to  tea. 

She  did  me  so  admire,  ; 

Yon  art-  much  improved,  dear  Bill,  saysslie,   i 

When  poking  of  tlie  fire,  i 

I  swet'ten'd  m\  own  tea,  j 

Don'i  be  afraid,  said  she,  ! 

So  I  couquer'd  modesty  ray  Woys 
I  was  happy  as  could  be  my  boys 
Jt  was  just  like  A  B  C,  my  boys 

Is  going  out  to  tea. 

\\  h<'n  we  had  finished  tea, 

I  (Mdn't  know  what  to  say, 
.She  drew  mv  chair  up  close  to  her. 

And  says  Billy»  now  name  the  day 
I  (iidn't  like  to  sp^ak. 

Somehow    1   fell  asleep 
I'd  had  too  much  to  eat  my  boys 

She  made  my  tea  too  sweet  my  boys 
I'd  enough  to  last  a  week  mv  boys 

V\  hen  last  I  went  to  1  ta. 

Now  I  didn  t  go  to  tea. 

With  Elizabeth  Frv  no  more, 
^  hen  a  fat  man  calTd  on  me  one  day, 

A  nd  a  large  c«>ck'd  hat  he  wore, 
Ilf'd  a  silver  knob  on  his  staff, 

I  want  yoi»,  he  Miid.  with  a  I  lugb. 
He  dPitgg'd  me  before  the  beak  m\  h'  VS, 

So  st-rp  ised  [  couldn't  spek  n>\  hovs.J 
I'd  a  halt  ii  crown  a  week  to  p-.iy  my  boys. 

Through  going  out  to  Tea. 

U  «  as  no  ode  saying  no  my  boyr 

And  all  I  d  jiot  to  say  my  hoys 
k ''  rather  tro  much  to  pay  my  boya 

If  Of  tj^v  V   ihree  cupn  of  tea. 


BOLD  6RENADEB 


a 


Hi^  lady 


E.  Hodsres.  (from  Pitts)  Printer,    vhelsale 
Toy  k  Marble  Warehc  use,  3  '  street 

SEVEN  DIALS. 


*  rWAS  a  very  fine  day,  and  the  band  gone  awa 
From  the  park  were  they'd  been  and  play'd, 
When  a  tall  gaenadier  to  a  mansion  drew  near 

To  have  a  chat  with  his  Ladiesmaid. 
His  tend? rest  words,  he  thouglit  she  heard. 

But  all  in  vain  spoke  he, 
And  this  soldier  said,  to  his  Lndiesmaid, 

Ladiesmaid,  here's  your  soldier  d'ye  see. 

Ladiesmaid  he. 

His  eyes  turned  above  he  look'd  after  his  leva, 

But  he  thought  hed  soe  her  no  more. 

Till  on  a  sudden  he  sees,  swing  too  and  fro  in  tha 

Quite  inviiing  the  open  ssreet  door,  (breea?. 

Up  »tairs  then  he  run,  but  he  found  she  wasgons^ 

What's  this  OQ  the  gronnd  ?  quo  h  he. 

Here's  a  poiireman's  staff,  he  ciied  with  a  laugh 

This  never  belonged  to  me.  Tbis  staff  &c  * 

You  p'raps  might  have  thnuaht,  he'd  fellowed  and 
1''.  r  fijiliting  you  know  was  his  bobby  (fougirt 

But  this  tall  grenadier  lauuh'd  at  the  idea. 

Of  going  to  fig'it   with  a  hobbv, 
With  «uother  j^ood  laugh  he  look  away  the  atatf, 
>s  to  barracks  lu.  went  sung  he 
If  ayo«w^  Ladiismaid  with  a  Peders  vtaff  rtaycti 
She  miglit  g^  ^  **^^  t<^  ^  *»«.      Sb«  xm^  ^ 


0  CONSOLATION, 

NOW  THK  WAR  li»  AT  AN  END, 

T^O'VVN  by  the  town  ot'Porlsmoutb  a  couple  were  convi>raing 

ConeeiBifig  of  the  present  limes  as  they  were  near  the  se  «^ 

The  solaier  to  this  fair  one  said  you  are  oppress  d  Vm  afraid, 

Tl)e  cause  of  all  your  grief  and  woe  comt-  quickly  t«ll  to  me 

To  soothe  mv  ^rief  you  never  can.  my  lover  died  at  Inkerman, 

'J'he  cruel  wai-  has  r.O'W  deprived  me  of  my  Henres^t  fritnd. 
And  wher«  to  go  I  do  not  know,  1  am  borne  down  by  grief 
and  woe. 
But  wiiat  a  consolation  now  the  war  is  at  an  end. 

Hu  friiid  come  sil  you  down  by  me,  and  I  will  sympathise  with 
thee, 
For  I  was  in  the  33rd, — if  he  was  in  the  same, 
Perhaps  tliat  younw  m^n  [  may  know,  the  tears  then  down  the 
checks  did  flow, 
Hp  said  ril  try  to  ease  your  mind,  tell  me  your  lover's  name 
Sh«  saiii  is  name  was  Wiiiium  Bell,  hush  then  be  cried^  iha 
truth  I  tell, 
Your  lover  fell  at  Inkerman,  it's  true  you  may  depend, 
¥es,  by  the  Rusinns  he  was  shot,  and  died  upon  the  fatal  spot 

But  what  a  consolation  now  the  war  is  at  an  end. 
She  seem'd  anxious  for  to  hear,  but  still  it  caused  the  briny  tear 
Down  from  this  fair  maid'a  sparkling  eyes  to  fall  like  drop«- 
of  rain, 
SJje  cried  alas  I  am  undone  for  I  have  lost  my  only  one* 

Th.it  once  I  I'oved  so  deaily,  I  shall  never  see  again, 
The  soldier  s<iid,  ciieer  up  your  heart  for  never  from  you  will 
I  p^irt, 
In  healih  or  sickness  you  will  find  that  I  will  ].e  your  friend 
"f  you  consent  to  be  my  wife  with  you  I  vow  to  end  my  lile, 
04j  !  what  a  consolation  now  the  war  is  at  an  end. 

At  length  composed  and  reconciled,  she  on  her  soldier  gaz  d 
and  smilrd'. 

Saying  to  he  your  wife  I  now  consent  my  given  days  to  end 
For  I  am  left  a  bird  alone  without  relation  or  a  home, 

Ati<i  in  tills  world  of  ndsery  it's  hard  to  find  a  fiend. 
He  said  if  single  you  remain  you  cannot  replace  his  life  a'^'^tn 

Some  thousands  ft]\  at  Inkerman  it's  true  what  I  have  pennM 
And  1  was  wounded  m  the  kuee  but  have  relurued  as  you  may 

A  grand  consolation  now  th«  war  is  at  an  end. 

To  ciiiirch  they  went  from  danger  freed  and  then  were  inarried; 
With  all  speed,. 
Now  in  the  bands  of  wedlock  they  were  joined  for  evermore 
The  soldier  now  an  invau;ade  has  got  a  panner  true  indeed, 

An<l  cheerful'y  they  pass  their  time  upon  their  native  shone 
Their  toast  is  tionours  to  the  brave,  God  rest  them  mouldering 
in  their  griivcs. 
And  let  us  ht;pe  that  these  hard  times  thay  very  soon  ^\\\ 
mend, 
That  we  may  sre  a  slir  in  trade  and  men  for  labour  belter  paid 
A  grand  consolation  now  t!  e  war  is^at  an  end. 

In  a  rural  cottage  near  the  seu^  they  are  living  now  in  unity, 

In  the  Isle  ol'  VViglit  near  Portsmouth  town  tJiis  couple  do  reside, 
A  handsome  pension  he  has  got  bow  happy  is  that  lair  ones  lot. 

She  blesses  now  the  lucky  day  that  she  was  made  his  britfe,  » 
She  proves- a  virtTious  loving  wii'e,.they  sOf)tlie  each  other  in  this-Iife 

Their  pronvisfis  have  not  been  broke  they  neitlier  do  oftbnd, 
B\it  now  tipon  caoh  pension  day  ti»ey.  sing  together  blythe  and  gaj!^ 

Qh,  whai  u  cooiiQlattou.  a&vk  the  war  i&  at  sm  eadl 


OUTWARD 

AND 

HOMEWARD  BOUND. 

To  the  Liverpool  Docks  we'll  bid  adieu. 
To  lovely  Kate  and  smiling  Sue, 
Our  anchor's  weigh'd  our  sails  unfurl'd, 
We  are  bound  to  cross  the  watery  world. 
Huzza  we  are  outward  bound. 

O  the  winds  right  abaft  and  it  does  increase, 
Our  ship  she  scuds  nine  knotts  at  least, 
Our  Skipper  will  our  wants  supply. 
And  whilst  we  have  grog  boys,  never  say  die. 
Huzza  we  are  outward  bound. 

When  we  arrive  at  China  or  Bombay, 
Then  my  lads  we'll  have  a  spree, 
But  we'll  not  forget  the  Liverpool  girls. 
For  we  will  buy  them  fine  silk  shawls. 

For  them  we'll  be  homeward  bound. 

And  some  rich  galliote  we'll  take  in  tow. 
Which  is  to  be  got  there  you  know. 
Its  then  my  lads  we'll  touch  the  jink. 
And  just  like  fishes  we  will  drink. 

That's  when  we  are  homeward  bound. 
And  when  return'd  to  Liverpool  Docks, 
The  pretty  girls  come  down  in  flocks, 
They  will  come  along-side  with  a  bottle  of  rum 
Saying,  you're  welcome  home  Jack,  Bill  &  Tom 

I  see  you're  homeward  bound. 

And  when  we  arrive  at  the  Blue  Bell, 
There  is  good  liquor  for  to  sell, 
Then  in  comes  the  landlady  with  a  smile. 
Saying  drink  my  lads,  for  its  worth  your  while. 
For  1  see  you're  homeward  bound. 

And  when  Jack's  money  is  gone  and  spent. 
And  there  is  no  more  to  be  had  or  lent, 
Then  in  comes  the  landlord  with  a  frown. 
Saying  rise  up  Jack,  let  John  sit  down. 

For  1  see  you  are  outward  bound. 

When  to  the  old  Jew  Jack  next  repairs. 
All  for  to  sell  his  jacket  there. 
For  a  suit  of   IJlue  cost  him  three  pounds. 
He  can  only  get  one  single  crown. 

That's  when  Jack's  outward  bound. 


STATE  Of  GREAT  BRITAIN, 


Oil  A   TOUCff  AT  THE    TIMES, 


OLQ  STAIRS. 

HODGES,  Printer,  (from  the  late  I.  PITTS',) 
^VJioiesale  Toy  Warehouse,  f^l,  Du;Uey-street, 
-  li*even  Dial?.-    A  great  variety  of  New,  song*. 

Xt.  0"''  Molly  has  never  been  .false  she  declares 
.*iuc«  the  last  time  we  parted   at  Wapping  old 

Stairs  J. 
Wh«n  I  said  that  I  still  would  continue  the  same 
And  gave  you  the  baccobox  niark'd  with  my  name 
Wliea  1  pass'd  ^  whole  fortnight  between  det  k» 

~  ^^"""wilh  you, 

^'r^'F  e'er  give  a  kiss,  Tom ^  to  ore  of  your  crew  ? 
Jki  be  useful  and  kind,  with  my  1  horaas  I  staid,. 

Eor  itis  trowsers  1  wash'd  &  his  grog.too-I  niade* 

lOio*  you  promis'd  last  Sunday  to  walk  in  tb6  ^rall 
With  Susan  from  Deptford,  h  likewise  with  Sail, 
Ifa  wlence  I  stoi  d,  your  unkindness  to  hear, 
ipnd  only  upbraided  my  Tom  with  a  tear, 
*Vhy  should  Sail,  or  should  Susan,  than  me  be 

more  priz'd  ? 
Swthe  heart  that  is  true,  it  should  ne'er  be  de- 
spised, . 
"Wjan  be  constant  and  kind.nor  your  Molly  forsake 
■^♦Jl  your  trowsers  Ml  wash  and  your  grog,  too 
I'll  make. 


TBTF   STATE  OF 

GREAT  BRITAIN 

Or,  a  Touch  at  the  Timet, 

jSLs  old  John  Bull  was  walking 

One  morning  free  from  pain, 
iie  liCard  the  rose,  the  shamrock. 

And  thistle  to  complain  ; 
All  alteration  must  take  place. 

Together  they  did  sing, 
Ih  the  Com  Law»,  and  the  Poor  Law  Bill 

And  many  other  things, 

>   C  H  0  R  U  &. 
ujin versing  on  the  present  time  together  they  did 

^11  classes  tliough  Great  Britain  now  appear 
so  very  strange, 
^SUist  England,  Ireland,  Scotland,  and    Wales 
must  speedily  have  a  change. 

13ie railroads  all  through  England 

Have  great  depression  made, 
.Machintiy  of  every  kind 

Has  put  a  stop  to  trade  > 
'Mie  innkeepers  are  weeping  f 

Jh  grief  and  agony, 
^Id  tiie  ost'ers  swear  they'll  buy  a  rope,. 


•m- 


•     Tlie  steam  boats  to  old  Beelzebub, 

The  watermen  do  wish. 
For  they  say  they've  nearly  ruin'd  theip 

And  drowned  all  the  fish, 
Of  all  their  new  in>vention« 

That  we  have  lately  seen. 
There  was  none  began  or  thought  upoii 

When  Betty  she  was  Queen. 

The  Poor  Law  Bill,  now  many  sayr,.  ,1 

Are  aibitary  Laws,  1 

Biit  they  are  qu,ickly  going  to  alter,  , 

Now  the  Brstend  second  clause, 
The  ninth,  and  tenth,  and  the  thirty-first 

But  the  forty-thjpd  does  say, 
Give  old  men  and  women  beer  and  teat 

And  a  half  a-crown  a  day. 

Behold  the  well-fed  farmer  : 

Ho  w  he;  can  strut  along  ;  ; 
Let  th6  poor  tnan^o  whate  er  he  wiH,  , 

He  is  aiViwys  in  ihe  wrowng :  . 
With  hard  labour  and  bad  wages        i 

He  hangs  his  drooping  head. 
For  they  wont  allow  him  half  enough^ 

To  find  his  children  bread. 

The  farmer's  daughters  out  can  ri.ie. 

Well  clad  and  pockets  full. 
With  a  horse  and  saddle  like  a  queen. 

And  a  boa  like  a  bull ; 
In  their  hand  a  flashy  parasol, 

And  on  their  face  a  veil, 
And  a  bustle  nearly  seven  times     / 

Asa  big  as  a  milking  pail.         i 

The  nobles  from  the  pockets  of     ^ 

John  Bullare  all  well  paid. 
Sometimes  you  hardly  know  tlie  laA 

From  the  servant  maid. ' 
For  now  they  get  so  very  proud, ' 

Silk  stockings  on  their  legs, 
And  ev'ry  step  they  take  you  think 

They  walk  on  pigeon's  eggs. 

The  tradesman  he  can  hardly  pay, 

F^is  rent  and  keep  his  home  j 
And  the  labourer  he  has  eighteen-penoe, 

A  day.  for  breaking  stones,  , 

In  former  days  the  farmer  rode 

A  donkey  or  a  mule  j- 
There  never  were  such  times  before, 

Since  Adam  went. to.  school. 

Some  can  live  in  luxury  '  f 

While  others  weep  in  woe  ; 
Ther's  a  pretty  diff  rence  'tween  now 

A  centry  ago.  ■ 
The  world. will  shortly  move  by  stearo.. 

And  that  appears  qi^ite  strange, 
So  you  must  all. acknowledge  / 

That  £  ngland  wants  a  cbang^,. 


^ij 


^ 


BAlTiJE 


OFTHE    NILE 


J.  Catnaik,  Printer,  2,  Montnoit  Court,  T  Dial* . 
Sold  by  Shanman,  Cambridge;  R.  Harris, 
Salisbury  ;  and  Boyes,  and  Bennett,  Bright«n. 

A    RISE,  arise,  Britannia's  sei)^,  arite, 
/\^  And  join  in  the  shouts  of  the  patriotic  throcc 
Arise,  arise,  Britannia's  sons,  arise. 

And  let  the  heavens  echo  with  your  song. 

For  the  genius  of  Albion  victory  proclaiming. 

Flies  through  the  world  our  rightsand  deeds  mate* 

And  the  battle  of  the  Nile  (tainiog. 

Shall  be  foremost  on  the  file,  be. 

Aftd  Nelson  ^allantNelson's  name  applandedsball 

CHORUS. 
Theii  huzza,  huzza,  huzza,  huzza  boy*,        [gaiB, 
Mars  guards  or  us  what  freedomdid  by  charter 
Hseza,  huzza,  huzza,  huzza  boys, 

Britaiuiia  still  Britannia  rules  the  main. 

The  proud  sons  of  France  with  insulting  haughty 

scorn,  [peadeney, 

Had  too  long  oppress'd  the  neigh boariag  ind«- 

And  vaijily  did  hope  thsircci  qiestirc^ilf  \  e  torn* 

Ib  harmony  triumphant  o'er  the  sea. 
But  Kel«on  soon  taught  them  iu  peals  of  British 
thunder,  [knock  uB«er, 

To  the  flag  of  Royal  George  'twas  thetr  duty 
And  the  battle  of  the  Nile, 
Was  decisive  of  their  spoil,  »«r. 

And  laurels  grace  the  bosom  of  each  loyal  Brititb 
In  council  above  rose  the  deity  of  war. 

Determined  to  give  true  valour  due  renown, 
Aij«d  soon  on  the  brow  of  each  hardy  British  tar 

Was  planted  a  resplendant  Royal  crown. 
While  the  loud  trump  of  Fame  o'er  earth  ft  ocean 
sounded,  [resounded. 

With  Howe,  Jarvis,  Duncan,  and  Kelson's  nam* 
And  the  battle  of  the  Nile, 
Was  the  foremost  on  the  file,  [<tay 

And  all  the  angelic  choirs  sung  the  glories  of  th* 
Then  arouse  arouse  ye  sons  of  mirthful  spert. 
And  receive  your  protectors  with  open  arms 
returning,  [boufbt 

And  viewed  the  spoils  they  with  their  blood  hav 

For  the  glory  of  this  happy  happy  Isle, 
A  British  Seaman's  name  henceforward  shall  b 

penn'd, 
A  terror  to  his  foe  an  honour  to  his  friend. 
At  the  battle  of  the  Nile, 
Our  children  shall  smile,  fdeie 

0t         ttfibom  transmit  what  Mf  Inb  kai 


^  NELSON'S 
M  O  N  U  \1  E  N  T. 

HODGES.  Fr liter, (from  Pitfs)  Wliolesi\le  Toj' 

Warehouse,  ;31,   Dudlov  Street,  7  Dials. 
l^.B:— A  large 'Cullei5tiono('i»ev  titif'  old  Sot»gs. 


I^ritons  lonp  rtppcted  great  news  from  our  fleet, 
CuiuDianded  by  ImtA  Nelson  the  Irencli  for  to  meet 
Al  length  the  news  caxneover,  through  the  eountry 

it  was  apreiic!. 
That  the  French  were  defeated,  hiii  Nelson  Was 

dead« 

Kot  only  brave  Nelson,  bnl  tlibii^ands  tvere  slain, 
By  6ghlingortl.e  Fieticb  upon  the  watery  main. 
To  protect  England's  glory,  its  honor  6i  its  wealth 
We   fought  and  \»ould  not  .yitld,  ^till  we  yielded 
onto  deuLh. 

Whe  merchants  of  yarmoiifh  iiearmg  us  say  30, 
^aid  coiue  brother  sa  lots  to  ihe  church  let  U3  go. 
And  there  we  will  build  a  must  beauliul  pile, 
111  reiaemberance  of  Nelson,  the  Hero  ot  the  Nik?. 

Xour  plan  says  Britannia,  in  e^cellant  |!food, 
A  monument  for  Nelsi  n  a  sword  for  Collingwood, 
^et  it  be  of  polished  marble  to  pcrpttuate  hi>s  name 
And   in  letters  of  gold  Wiiie,  '  lie  died  fur  Eu- 
glund'a  fame. 

AU  (Seamen  ttnd  soMiers  as  1  have  hee^'to!^. 
They've  ordcr'd  tlle^»^elve!»  i.i  teadiness  ^o  hold, 
Their  lights  to  maiiitaiu  their  cause  to  sapport, 
Ji'roai  any  iuvasiou  Iveep'eucL  British  potU 

Doth  soldiers  and  sai'lors  miglify  dtiedhtbey  havt"* 

•done, 
^•heir  Kom  m  ^>reion  parts  muiy  buttle«'bave  wone 
Sfthe  Nile  ci'uid  but  ;po.ik,  i)r  K;;ypt  declare, 
AH  tb«   world   wiih  L^rd  Ntl^ca  they  ck;uld  not 


I 


THEY    TOLD  HEU  TO    FORGET    ME 


THE 


CEUEL   FATHER 

AND  AFFECTIONATE' 

LOYERS. 


E,  [  rod fjes  Printer,   (from  PITT'S,) 

W|inIosale    Toy     and    Marble    Warecjhuse, 

No.  31,  Dudley  Street,  Seven  Dials. 


1  t's  of  a  damsel  both  fair  and  liandsome, 

-   I  hose  lines  are  tnie,  as  I  have  been  told, 
Near  the  banks  of  Shannon,  in  lofty  mansion 

Her  parents  cluimed  great  stores  of  gold, 
Her  hair  was  black  as  a  raven's  feather, 

H'  r  form  and  features,  describe  who  can  ? 
Bu^  still  'tis  folly  belongs  to  nature. 

She  fell  in  io*e  witka  seryant  man. 

Sweet  rtlary  Ann  with  her  love  was  talking, 

Her  father  heard  them,  and  nearer  drew. 
And  as  those  lovers  were  fcmdly  talking, 

in  anger  home  then  her  father  flew. 
To  build  a  dungeon  was  his  intention,. 

To  part  true  love— he  contrived  a  plan. 
He  swore  an  oath  that's  too  vile  to  mention. 

He'd  part  that  fair  one  from  her  servant 
man. 


$j 


Younj  Edwin  found  out,  her  habitation, 

*T\i^as.  well  secured  by,  anirpn  qoor, 
Heyow.  d  in,  spite  of  all  this  nation, 

To  gain  her  freedom  or  j:esXpo.  more, 
'Twas  at  his  h  isure,.hef  toiled  with  plea'are^ 

To  irain.  releasement  for  Mary  Ann, 
He  gain'd  liis  object  and  foun^^  his  tr -asurc. 

She  cried  my,  faithful  youn^  servant  man. 

A  suit  of  clothing  he  bought  bis  love-, 
T^as  man's  apparel  her  to  disguise. 
Crying  for  your  sake.!  1  face  ydm'  father. 
To.  >ee  me  lien^  it  will  hi nv. surprise. 
'  "When  her  criie]  father  brought  br9.ad  &water  ^. 

To.f  alljiiis  daughter  he  then  |>egun, 
^  Said  Ed  wj'n,_  enter;  I've  clear'd'', our  daughter 
Anji  I  w.ll  §ulier,  xour  servant  man-  . 

Her  father  found  'twas  l>istlaijghte^  vanish  d 

Then  like  a  lion  he  did  r«>ar. 
He  said  from  Ireland  you  shall  be  banish  d, 

l>i  with  my  broad-sworc] Jill  spill  \  our  gore 
Agreed,  s^id  Edwin,  so  at  your  leisure. 

Since  her  I've  IV^.eM,  do  all  you  can. 
Forgive  yovr  daughter,  Fli  <lie  with  pleasure 

The- one  ijiifault  is.:your  iscrv  .nt  man'. 

When  her  father  found  him  .so  tender  hearted 

'1  hen  down  he  fell  on  the  dimgeon  froo'. 
He  said  true  loyers  should  not  be  parted, 

Since  love  can  enter  an  iron  dooi". 
Then  soon  they  join'd  to  be  parted  never. 

To  roll  in  riclies  this  yoiiu^  couj)! '  can. 
This  fair  yoimg  lady,  'midst  rui-al  pleasure, 

Liv<  s  blest  for  ever  with  her  servant  man 


THEY  TOLD  HER 


S  TO    FOllGET    M 


in- 


'T'hey  told  her  to  forget  me„ 

To  think  of  me  no  more. 
Tliey  hinted  they  liad  known  mo 

\\  in  other  hearts  before,  -     v. 

They  bade  her  never  mention,  ' '■% 

My  hated  name  again. 
But  should  she  ever  meet  me 

To  pass  mc  with  disdain, 

They  told  her,  kc^ 


He  built  a  dungeon  of  bricks  and  mortar, 

With   a  flight  of  steps,  for  'twas  imder 
ground. 
The  food  he  gave  her  was  bread  and  water> 

Tlie  only  cheer  that  for  her  was  found,, 
Three  times  a  day  he  did  cruel  beat  her. 

Unto  her  father  she  thus  began,  * 
If  I've  transgressed,  now  my  own  dear  father 

Fll  lay  and  die  for  my  servant  man. 


A  Baron  rich  and  haughty,  -  , 

St'->od  smiHng  by  her  side,  ,' ;- 

Her  father's  word  was  given,  .:%$}. 

He  led  her  forth  a  bride. 
One  smile  she  gave,  which  faded. 

Like  the  sun's  last  pirting  rr.y, 
Her  sad  spirit  trembled, 

And  she  was  iifele«3  clay. 

"They  tpld  her;  &c> 


TEMPTATIONS  OF  TIE  GOOD  SI.  ANTIdNT 


JOE  &  BET. 

(A  Paiciiy  on  JeuriivetUj  &  J^facinolt ) 

Y"ou  are  cmn,;   f»r  a*ay.  far  aw*y  inn  poof 
eld  l*'t 
There'll  br  no  on--  left  b*hi»d  ymi, 
Yei  you  will  IV -t  forgi't. 
But  my  be  iri  ^'l'  ^'^  ^^^^  V*^"  J**' 
V  htn  on  a  J  fli-rent  be;U  t.>u  k".  , , 

Cao  yim  look  ..»e  in  the  fi.:*  at>d  »ay  the  ««no    «>»'' 
joe. 

Wnen  yon  wear  the  cf^ft'  of  bltie, 
And  the  bUp  up  shiny  tile 
Tou'll  look  just  like  a  lobs'er, 
That  hash.dnot  a  biie, 
With  the  truncheon  in  yotir  po-Ket, 
An  1  ihs  capo  han-  by  yovire  si>, 
Youll  bo  t&V\n-  some  young  houwnMa 
And  be  mukxii  her  your  bnic. 

And  wh<^  you  20«*  on  dulf , 
You  11.  be  madly  riwhinj;  on 
Nevaf'tliioklni;  if  you  oook  'urn 
That  th.'ir  U:tpoiive««  i»  2ono  ! 
Anj  if  yiu  goe*  on  ♦ell 
rerh;»ps  1  iwrj-ant  you  m^y  be, 
Th.it  »  if  you  kwp*  stt-aiiy,  V 

And  donl  go<m  tho  spree. 

Rut  was  I  quoon  to  day  , 
My  win  *houl<i  b-?  my  o\rn, 
I'd  have  no  pc'lets  walk  abroad. 
Of  lusliey  (Wrt-lls  froii  home, 
xAil  iho  men  should  be  in  bed, 
All!  u'OoJ  wiTe*  aMCftthiMr  ri^bU; 
And  the  men  be  kept  well  uoder, 
Tl»en  all  things  would  go  on  tight. 

I  like  yott're  speaking  batty, 
But  I  undersund  my  trade, 
Of  fn<'tin..j  young  awelli  pockfitt, 
To  s<'e  what  can  can  be  made, 
<Jr  place  'um  on  a  steairhe* 
And  binii  ea  h  baad  and  kne«, 
Or  g»-t  up  a  Cite  at  newgate. 
And  get  extra  pay  do  you  s«\ 

But  a«  for  gala  my  dearest  bet, 
No  0  Uer  one'*  forjoe, 
Frtr  I  rf'colUcl  'he  biis  of  browa. 
You  -lave  me  down  below, 
So  a  ki^  my  deari«»  be  tv, 
Let  all  your  crying  cea..e, 
For  your  ju«  will  l>«  a  slui.ner, 
While  he's  in  the  tic*'  loU.e. 

TEMPTA  i'lONS 

GOOD  StVaRITHONY 

St,  Anthony  stood  on  &  lonely  rock, 
A  lar^e  black  book  he  heUl  m  his  fcwtd 
tCe»er  his  eyo»  fro««i  its  p*;e  ha  took, 

W  iiii  steadfast  »oul  thf  page  he  scrmo'd. 
The  uevil  was  in  the  be*t  hunonr  that  day; 

Thai  eT»r  hi*  lii^'hnem  wan  known  to  be  irt 
ThU  3  whv  he  sent  out  h  *  i.Tp«  to  pUy, 

With  sulphur  and  tir,  and  pitch  imd  rosin. 
Tki'v  ca:ne  t)  th«  saint  In  a  motley  crew, 

Twisted  an  1  twirled  ihcmielv.^8  about. 
Imp*  ot  e^•erv  Bh».)«  «nd  hw, 

\  dcv  li.li'etianiie  and  rum-Utokini;  reut 
Yi»   il-e  '-'"od  *t.  AntljoUy  k.^)!  lua  ey«s, 

v.  Qrmly  fiixed  u;>oj  his  book, 
Shouta  Tior  lausrhttT,  sijtlia  nor  ori«8 

Could  ever  wUi  away  l»i<  ^*>o^' 

A  i.u  unt  i'-n?'  »"»'  '"  '"  earthen  p«t, 
j'.j  .Mrth.Mi  Uia  H6i;ied  pot  sat  he  ! 
1  Urough  holei  at  i '«  ''de-.  hii  arms  o«t  shot, 

ilOUGliS'  Printer,  ('irom  the  la'e  I    PITT' 


,       Rahcr  a  rotiHcal  sigh'  t/>  fee  ' 

H*  dra^kmini  hi«  b<'Hy  t>o  ^»r  Hnd -M)A»rMl, 

AtNl  drtiiMin.vl  hi<  b«liT  •    rou-tdaud  f.«ir 
Brtnijfht  forth  a  -umlKUip,  minyU-^  :M>aik<l 

Kathef  a  cofoicHl  >ound  to  lit-ar  ! 
And  he  h'^p'daad  h-w'd  a^l  wink  d  Kid Vriati'^, 

.\s  hirih  t  )  a  lirt  of  a  sim^  if.iv«  ht»  — 
Kt'epiiic  lime  ^n;n  tije  luui^  at  hf  g '.Uop'd  akon^, 

Tiil  bis  eycb  lairiy  •  h*J  i.>ut  with  <;!•'<'. 

Vet  tluigood,  &«. 

Am  ther  inrp  came  with  a  tntmpel  snfmt 

That  was  both  not.c  and  mouth  in  one, 
And  Ue  twang'd  hii^  na-al  tnelodiea  out 

Ic  many  a  (tuave',  shale,  and  run, 
Aud  hie  h^d  moved  backwartki  and  forwards  a'iU, 

Upon  luslong  &nd  anakjr  neek 
He  sneetfd  his  octaves,  o«t  until, 

You'd  tHink  his  iiofts  w>a  rc>a.'ly  to  break  ! 
And  eloao  to  St  Anthony's  ear  ho  came 

And  8<}iv*a'Ked  and  p«|vd  hia  muic  in 
The  shcrk  ran  ilirough  tiie  good  ^a^nt's  ffjaje 

Ui?  shook  ai.d  riliivetcdwiih  thedia- 

Yei  the  good,  &•. 

A«  imp  came  no«f  with  a  slwlatoo  form, 
Just  cttine  out  of  a  chitnM  vault 

His  jaws  With  grigile  ware  black  an'l  di'form'd, 

Aud  hid  itHHh  Were  a^i  lar^  and  aa  uhit*;  is  Mit 
He  griaa  d  fuU  m.any&  lifaicesgrin, 

A  ad  wiiTg'd  and  rattlod  hii  boiey  tail, 
Ili«  skull  was  iixketl  with  gill  and  An, 

And  iiii*  cy€«  were  l.ke  ^ho  eyes  of  a  aoAil, 
Ho  took  hii  stand  st  the  good  taint's  b&.k, 

Oo  li}<toe  rum  be  st  lO'l  a  space 
And  cocJcud  down  h^*  Indian  rubber  eyes, 

To  squutt  aad  gaao  upon  lui  fae^ 

Kut  the  good,  kob 

Sliders  with  an  ugtyguis^, 

Hung  from  every  creak  and  n«ok, 
Stared  at  Uie  saint  with  their  otfthtere*    . 

Danced  a  hornpipo  on  hiftbook, 
Be«Ue&  and  slow  wotms  cr&wlu<l  about. 

Forty  Qoota  s  full  span  I'-ng, 
Through  liolwe  in  the  wa<a*Cv»t  mice  popped  out, 

Aad  danc'd  in  aod  out  in  an  <>ndle«  throng. 
A  sly  old  rat,  with  wh's^er'd  snout, 

And  itwd  on  his  haad  did  squat  demure, 
Ihere  iitv^r  WJ3  ae^a  luaU  su  i*ciravagaat  rout, 

Froai  that  lo  tb*  prew-ot  littMS  I'm  sure. 

Yet  the  good,  Its 

A  thing  witii  horny  eyea  vrae  th(?«, 

WitJt  horny  cyea,  ju?t  like  the  dead- 
While  fisli  bone*  grew  inaiead  of  hair, 

bpon  his  bald  and  tkialtss  haid. 
Last  came  an  imp— h<yw  a:jliVe  tha  rett, 

A  Lovely  looking  few*:*  form, 
An.1.  wtiik  wti'h  a  whi«p«r  his  i-Uoek  8h«  prcss'd. 

Her  lips  fait  downy'  soft  aod  worm. 
At  over  his  shoulder*  sl»  bent,  the  light, 

Of  her  brilHant  ey«s  upon  his  page, 
Soim  fiil'd  h"ii  soul  with  laild  delight, 

That  the  good  oli  ciap  forgot  his  a^, 

Aod  the  good  St.  Anthony  bosgled  his  eyes, 

t)o  quickly  o'er  his  aW  blaek  book: 
Ho  I  Iw  !   at  the  corners  they'gan  to  riae. 

And  he  could'nl  thoose  but  hava  a  Liok 
There  are  many  devils  ihit  walk  thia  world, 

Dcvila  so  nrieagrc  and  devils  3«  stout, 
Devils  that  go  with  their  tails  aocurl'd; 

D'JviJi  with  horns,  and  d^rvils  wilhoot, 
Serious  d«:vil»,  liughing  devils, 

Devi'*  black,  iiad  Ucvils  white, 
Devils  for  churches,  deviU  for  revels. 

Devils  uncooth,  and  devils  polite, 
Devils  witii  f.ailurs-ani  devils  wi4h  scalca* 

Devils  with  b'uc  aod  wa.ty  skins. 
Devils  witU  claws  I  kc  iron  nails, 

D«;vtU  with  fishes' gils  an.1  ftos. 
Devils  fooUilj,  devi*  wist, 

D.'viU  grtat  and  devils  small. 
But  a  lau-h:ni!  woman  wi  b  two  bright  e} os, 
Pioves  ihe  worst  devil  of  iiicm  a41. 

S)  wli^l^eale  Toy  W^fehouse,  31,  Dudley  Srcelt,  7  Dials. 


\ 


^ 


7\m», — Ax  my  eye.. 

I  thought  when  first  1  entered  into  lift 

By  honesty  to  gain  a  name. 
But  mortal  selfishness  ahd  strife, 

Soon  taught  me  a  different  garrtf*. 
Masters  cheated — sacked  me— whaek'd  me 

'Till  at  length  a  man  I  giew 
Then  in  the  streets  went  yellmg,  selling, 
I  Dying  speeches—  murders  too. 

Fakements  swch  as  these  I  try,. 
Gain  a  living  all  men  n>ust^ 
Honesty  »  all  my  eye, 
Anythir.g  to  yarn  a  crusts 

Spoken. — Now  r^y  customers,^  roti  have  here,  jn<t  printed  and 
published. a  full,  true,  and  pertickler  account  of  the  life,  trial,  and 
hexocution  of  Jeremiah  Slitwind.  who  wns  hexecnted  this  morning 
for  tlie  small  charge  of  one  ha'pentijf.  You  have  here  every  per- 
tickler (if  that  vhich  be  did,  and  that  vhich  he  did'nt  vith  the  pious 
and  moral  love-letter  vhich  he  wrote  to  his  sweethea't,  also  an  af- 
fectionate copy  of  w»rses  writenby  the  poorhurifortunate  criminal 
Uie  night  after— I  mean  the  night  afore  his  hexicutibn — together 
▼ith  his  last  dyin'  speech  and  eonfes>sion  vhich  he  made — and  a 
vholesom  varning  to  young  men  and  vomen  to  avoid  bad  company 
Slid  take  care  of  number  one,  for  the  mall  charge  of  a  ha'penny 
I'li'H  e  i-ir,  mother  vants  her  money,  'cos  the  man  arnt  hung. — 
(  Hilt  help- that  my  dear — he  ought  to  ha'  been  vhich  is  just  the 
»«me.  Fakements,  &c 

That  ere  business  soon  got  queer, 

Hanging  day  so  seldom  came 
Starvation  I  began  to  fear. 

So  went  to  work  at  the  swindling  game' 
Tried  all  schemes  so  lary,  warry 

Nailed  the  flats  in  every  way 
Worked  at  thimble  rigging; — prigging 

Then  started  on  the  cadging  Ifty. 

5))o^«».— Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  are  come  before  you  this 
Booming,  in  spite  of  my  native  mode.-ty,  and  in  vhich  its  a  grrat 
effort  on  ray  pait.  in  order  to  make  known  my  distress,  knnu-ir  rr 
that  the  kearls  of  the  charitalile  are  never  deaf  U,  stale  of  mise  y 
and  is  over  ready  to  lend  a  helping  hand  to  thf  m  as  don't  want  it 
I  am  an  unfortunate  mechanic  with  a  sick  wile  and  starving  familj 
(  child  eries  yah  !  )  of  M-hich  this  here  biessud  baby  is  the  youngest 
of  sixteen,  vhich  I  got  at  home  to  support,  and  to  iidd  to  my  dis- 
tress, tive  en  'em  died  last  night,  and  was  duried  i)y  the  parish  yes- 
terday morning — consid/r  my  awful  bereavemeat— and  to  aiid  Ic 
•ny  distress,  1  was  forced  to  -sell  my  goods  to  pay  tlte  undcrfi.ker 
I  arnt  got  no  home  to  go  to,  and  my  haid  hearted  hwilord  threaten'- 
*6  put  the  broker  in  and  sell  all  my  goods — and  to  add  to  my  dls 
tress,  my  unfortinate  wife  died  about  three  days  ago  in  giving  birtl. 
to  this  here  helpless  orphan,  and  is  now  lying  home  without  a  h\\ 
©'  Hittle  to  put  in  her  mouth,  and  expects  to  be  confined  ngaii' 
.shortly.  I  are  been  affected  with  a  severe  illness,  and  have  beei. 
in  all  the  jails — hospitals  I  mean — in  Londi  n,  and  vos  turned  (-n' 
incorrigible— that  is  incurable.  Ladies  &  Gentlemen,  if  you  thii)!- 
proper  to  encourage  idleness.  I  can  assure  you  i'm  a  deservii'g  <  b 
ject — 1  can  turn  my  hand  toany  Ihir-g,  Stamahonestt,.  indu.^triou: 
J»ung  maa  a.s  the  govenor  of  newgate  can  testify.    Fakements  &c 

My  face  too  soon  familiar  grew 

And  folks  they  did  me  brown  d'j'e  see  ? 

Instead  of  browns,  they  sent  me  to 
The  Mendicity  Society, 

Pea  soup  lacking  thickening,  sickening^ 
A  higher  range  my  genious  took. 

Round  the  town  went  touting,  spouting^ 
Puncb's  Riddles  a  penny  a  buok^ 


Spofinrim-  Now  my  customers,  just  printed  and  pnbliished,  priy 
liono  publico,  that  is  to  say,  for  the  l)enefit  of  the  publisher,  an  m- 
tirely  novel  and  cho;ce  collection  of  Punch's  ff.vorite  conundunns.- 
selected'  and  arranged  by  VvuscWm pi^ria perKQnia,\'\c\\  signine* 
to  them  M  hat  don't  understand  Frep,^^himself  or  somebody  eisp 
Now  the  price  is  only  a  penny,  and  /.  -i'llrst  conundrurain  the  btii**- 
book  is  — only  a  penny — the  first  is  "why  is  Giaham  in  the  Hou<e 
of  Lords  like  a  pig  in  a  shower  hath."  "  Pecos  he's  out  ef  his  ele- 
ment."" One  penny.  Thank'e  mu!n.  Now  the  next  conun— come 
move  on  thee.  Yes  sir.  sartinly  .\iister  (!onstable,  directly.  Noiv 
the  next  cor.nndrum  in  the  little  book  is,  "  why  is  Lord  Broom  liVfl 
^  a  wenerable  grunter?"  Becos  he.s  an  old  b)!e.  Ha!  Ha!  Cur  tj 
)  your  conundrums— will  you  move  on?  Sartinly  Mister  Consfable^ 
;  Now  the  next  conundrum— will  you  move  on?  Eh?  oh!  yes — (\<\ 
you  speak  to  me?  Allow  me  Mister  Policeman  io  ask,  "why  are 
you  like  a  man  stripping  to  fight  ?. "  "  Becos  y(ju're  a  peeelr."  cur-a 
your  conandrums,  will  you  be  off?  One  more  and  I'm  off.  "  VVl;y 
am  I  like  stirjking  meat?"  Becos  the  blue  bottles  are  arter  m  , 
Now  the  next — curse  your  conun — I'm  off  sir.     Fakements,  6.«* 

Next  teetotal  spouter  turned'. 

The  water  drinking  crew  I  cheats — 
Then  the  pious  dodge  I  learned, 

Sarmonizing  in  the  streets, 
Rantir.g,  canting,  teaching,  preaching,. 

Till  to  stale  the  game  did  grow — 
Next  beliold  me  stamping,  tramping-,. 

Leading  nian  at  a  travelling  show. 

Spoken. — Now  then  step  forward,  step  forward — ^justa-goirg  '*> 
commence.  The  Royal  Wictoria  TaviHion  or  Rolling  Refuge  for 
<  the  destitute  drama — patronized  by  the  ghost  of  Billy  Shickspui 
S  who  has  been  bundled  out  of  bis  lodgings  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
S  Covent  Garden,  where  he  fomid'  an  anylum  for  many  years ;  tiol 
)  in  consequence  of  the  march  of  science,  and  a  refined  taste,  the 
)  poor  old  gentlemen  hesbeccme  bedridden,  and  is  literally  defunct 
)  which  caused  many  of  his  brethren  to  be  funcktd,  and  tie  I  uictio- 
/  naries  wot  holds  the  reins  of  the  Thespian  wehicle  are  in  a  greater 
}  funk  than  all  on  'enu  Astonishing  performance — the  real  leg;»i- 
<■  mate  drama,  and  no  gammon— none  o' your  Uniry  1  anc  humb"^ 
(  at  this  shop,  stop  forward — be  in  time — just  a-going  to  commence 
(with  a  spiflicating  tragedy,  to  be  called  "The  mysteries  of  the 
s  .V'cmber  Mug,  or  the  smashed  Bug  and  the  Bloody  Bolster."  Hi, 
)  hi,  lii,— make  way  there  for  the  Lord  knows  who  and  the  La'.iy 
Limbertongue.     A  penny,  a  penny,  a  penny.         Fakements,  <i(.e. 

Low  lived  gam!  s  I  cat  at  last, 

Better  late  than  never,  then 
I  rflccts  ujwu  the  past. 

Gains  a  !ivi   g  by  my  pen  j 
All  day  long  rehearses  verses, 

Courting  too,  the  muses  nine,. 
Then  at  night  inditing,  writing. 

Accidents  at  a  penny  a  lime; 

.Spoken-  Yes,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  Vm  the  gcniu«  of  Grofe 

trect,  and  the  genuine  originator  of  the  Greenacre  style  of  nnvrl 
'.vriting,  poet,  penny-a-liner,  and  poetical  scribler.  Lyrics  or  iiheis 

ccident?  or  acrostics,  it's  all  the  same  to  me,  from  a  bith-day  ode 

to  her  maje-ty,  down  to  a  dismal   dirge  on   the  dr-ah  of  Dusty 

Hob's  donkey.    I 'ying  speeches  ar^d  lyric  lays  equally  rea>»fflBnble 

Every  facilities  for  suicides.     Made  up  m  orders  on  the  shortest 

'  notice,  and  1<  west  terms.    I  intend    o  pcti  ion  parrianieni  to  revive 

be  good  old  hanging  days,  for  (lie  bLiiiti'i  of  Grub  .-^tn  et.  ?.  ihe 
flving  stitioners.  Arid  if  any  good  genthmen  prese  t  ^  ill  oblige 
rrie  by  committirg  suicide,  I'll  write  a  oopy  ot  verses  on  the  .  r- 
casioii  and  give  luni  une  for  nothing.  Fakements,  ^e> 

M.  A.  UOl  GKH.  from  I.  PITTS,  Wholet-ale  loy  Warehouse, 
,ii,  Dudley  Street;,  Scveu  Dials.. 


TBB 


¥', 


W 


M, 


■AS  T  roved  out  one  Evening  being  in  llie  blooming  Spring, 
il  heard  a  lovely  flamsol  fair  most  greviously  did  sing  ; 
•Sayiug,  criic)  was  ray  parents,  that  did  me  so  annoy, 
iTliey  did  not  let  me  marry  with  my  bonny  labouring  boy. 

Young  Johnny  dear  is  my  true  love,  a?  you  may  plainly  see' 
•BJy  parents  did  employ  him.  their  labouring  boy  lo  be — 
•His  coal  black  hair  and  rnby  lips,  my  youthful  heart  decqy'd 
'Soon  I  feH  in  love  with  him,  my  bonny  labouring  boy« 

My  mother  thought  to  have  me  wed  unto  a  Lord  or  Peer, 
J  bi?iD^  ihe  only  heirees,  of  five  thousand  pounds  a  year,      * 
I've  pSaced  my  heart  in  one  true  love  and  him  I'll  not  deny, 
,  For  I'd  range  the  world  over  with  my  bonny  labouring  boy. 

"Wvi  cheeJis  are  like  the  roses  red,  his  eyes  are  black  as  sloe* 
He  18  mild  in  his  boiiaviour  wherever  that  he  goes —  f 

'He's  manly,  neat  and  handsome — his  skin  as  white  as  enow 
In  epite  of  ray  parents  malice  witJi  my  labouring  boy  I'll  go 

I  courted  him  for  twelve  long  months,  but  little  did  I  kuovf 
3?7  cruel  parents  ever  thought  to  prove  my  o»erthrow; 
!Fhey  watch'ci  ug  close  one  evening,  while  SO  a  shady  grove* 
Pledging  our  vows  together  in  the  constant  bands  of  love« 

Then  my  father  stspt  up  to  us,  and  Seized  m«  by  the  hand, 
He  swore  he'd  banish  Johnny  unto  a  foreign  land  ; 
.^Sie-loek^  me  iVi  my  own  bedroom,  my  comfort  to  annoy, 
And  k'ft  me  to  weep  and  mourn  for  my  bonny  labouring  boy. 

*3'hen  my  mo^ver  came  next  iBorning,  and  these  words  to  me  dhi' 

say, 
Your  father  is  determ-ioed  to  appoint  your  wedding  day  ; 
J  nobly  made  her  answer,  with  him  I'd  ne'er  comply, 
I  jBot  single  I  would  s'.ill  remain  for  my  bonny  labouring  boy. 

Says  the  mother  to  the  daughter,  why  4s  y^u  speak  so  strange, 
To  marry  a  poor  labouring  boy,  the  world  far  to  range  ; 
Some  noble  lord  might  fancy  you,  great  riches  to  enjoy. 
'.jSo  do  not  thiow  yourself  away  on  a  poor  labouring  boy, 

O  mother  dear^  efia  answered,  your  talk  is  all  in  vain, 
yor  knights,  lords,  dukes,  or  earls,  their  offers   I  disdain ; 
I'd  rather  live  a  humWe  life,  my  tinae  I  would  employ, 
JnoreasiEg  nature's  prospect  with  my  bonny  labouring  boy. 

JJioe  hundred  pounds  and  all  my  clothes,  I  took  that  very  night, 
And  with  the  lad  that  I  adored,  to  Plymouth  did  take  flight; 
His  love  it  has  entangled  me,  and  that  I  can't'deny, 
So  to  a  foreign  land  1*11  go  with  my  bonny  labouring  boy, 

iThis  couple  t&sy  got  married,  and  joined  in  unity, 
"  In  peaee  and  (xrsnfdrt  for^to  li^e,  in  love  and  loyakty ; 
j  Her  parents  riobee  she  disdains  for  her  love  and  only  joy, 

May  prosperity  attend  ber  with  he^  bonny  labouring  boy. 

,?G  fill  your  glasses  to  the  brim,  let  the  glass  go  merrily  rovmd. 
Here's  a  healtii  lo  every  labouring  boy  throughout  the  nation 

round  ; 
For  whan  hi-s  work  is  over,   its  home  he  steers  with  joy, 
j^A  bapp^  i»  ^e  gtfl  tJta^ete  a  phe&rfai  lab»u)ing  boy. 


Indian  Ia§§. 

Piinted  by  E.  Hodges,  (late  Pitt's), Whofo- 
sale  Toy  and  Marble  Warehouse,  31, 
Ar~  .  Street,  Seven  Dials,  where  new 
sc&gs  are  prioted  and  published  every 
week 


liiSJ  AS  I  was  a  walking  on  a  far  distant  shore, 
^^^  1  call'd  at  ap  ale  house  to  spend  half  an  hourj 
c^S>  As  I  sat  smoking,  beside  me  a  glass, 
^^^  By  chance  there  came  in  a  young  Indian  lass, 

^^v^  She  sat  down  beside  me  and  stfueea'd  my  handt 
t^^  She  said  your  a  stranger  not  one  of  this  lan4, 
^^*t  ^  ^*V6  fine  Lodgings  if  with  me  you'll  stay, 
K^  My  portion  you  shall  have  without  more  delay. 

With  a  glass  of  good  liquor  she  welcom'd  me  in, 
Kind  sir  you  are  welcome  to  have  any  thing,  y 
But  as  I  embraced  her  this  was  her  tune,  ^ 

You  are  a  poor  Sailor  and  far  from  your  home, 

^^  We  toss'd  and  we  tumbl'd  in  each  others  arms, 
^^  And  all  that  long  night  I  embrac'd  her  sweet  chari 
With  rural  enjoyment  the  time  past  away, 
I  did  not  go  to  leave  her  till  nine  the  next  day. 

This  lovely  young  Indian  on  the  place   where  she 

stood, 
I  viewed  her  sweet  features  and  found  they  were  good, 
^i  She  was  neat,  tall  and  handsome,  her  age  was  sixteen. 
She  was  born  and  brought  up  in  a  place  near  Orleans, 

The  day  was  appointed  he  was  going  away. 
All  on  the  wide  ocean  to  leave  her  to  stay, 
2^  She  says  when  you  are  o'er  in  your  own  native  land. 
Remember  the  Indian  that  sqiieez'd  your  hand. 

Early  next  morning  we  were  goino^  to  sail, 
This  lovely  young  Indian  on  the  beach  did  bewail^ 
I  took  off  my  handkerchief  and  wiped  her  eyes, 
Do  not  go  and  leave  me  my  sailor  she  cries. 

We  weighed  our  anchor,  away  (hen  we  flew. 

With  a  sweet  and  pleasant  breeze,  parted  mc  from  hw 

view. 
But  now  I  am  over  ar>d  taking  my  glass, 
So  here's  a  health  to  the  y^ting  loUian  lasft,     -.''' 


Hodges,  Priotir  &  Toy  Warehouse,  26  G; af'.on-s). tea 


BLARNEY    AiND   BOTHERING  WAYS 


I  HAD  A  FLOWER 

I   had  a   flower  within    my    garden 

growing, 
1   nourislied  it    with  fond  and  anxious 

care, 
Rich  in   its  charm's,  of  nature '§  own 

disposing, 
Qp  tints  iwinvall'd  and  with  fragrance 

rare, 
In  an  evil   hour  there  came  about  my 

dwelling. 
.One  who  had  blighted  many  a  flower 

before, 
Me   saw   my  gem,   in  innocence    ex- 
celling; 
•  fle  smiled  upon  it  and  it  bloomed   no 
m  ore, 

Be  saw  my  gem,  &c. 

Next  day  I.  found  it  withered  and  de-. 

giaded 
Tlirown  by  the  spoiler  carelessly  away 
Its  fragrance  goiie,  its  various  beautJes 

faded 
'Deapisftd,  forsaken»  hast'niiig  to  decay, 
Vainly  i  strove  tlie  faded  il lower  to 

cherish, 
fought  i^w  remains  of  what  was  once - 
I  so  dear, 

,  Only  with  lite  can  fond  reiaembrance 
/  perish 

Or  cease  to  flow  tlie  unavailing  t^ar. 


BRQGUK     BLARNEY     AND 
THERING    WAYS: 


BO- 


T  M  trae  wiial  1  «av,  'by  4he  powers  above, 
I'm  geltmg  <juite  Tat  tktfu^i.  I  live  upon  love. 


Witii  my  bro<>-a«  aod  my  bbrney  and  both 'ring 
\  way*. 

Rve  sweethearts  I've  got,  and  sure  I'm  iodin'^ 
I  To  marry  her  tjrsl,   whtf'ji  first  in  Hie  mind  ; 
I  stje  thein  all  round  in  the  coursa  or  each   dt\y, 
!And  du  all  I  can  to  make  their  heirts  gay, 
'■     With  my  brogue  and  my  blarney,  h  bothering 
ways 

prbe  fimt  is  a  spiii»t«r — a  bit  pa«i  her  prime, 
I  iuM  every  moraing  about  hreakfe«t  time. 
With  my  brogue,  kc. 

S.  HODGES,  from   PITTS',.  Wholesale 


I  tt  1!  her  that  she  can  uf  great  boaufy  boa»t, 
As  f  swallow  the  coftVe,   the  og^s,  and  the  loaat 
I  speak  quite  re^sfjecfful,  and  hope  that  my  fate 
May  be  soonjohi'd  to  her's  in  theconnubal  slat*. 

With  my  brogue,  ^c. 
At  luncheon  I  go  to  a  ch?irniing  cook-shop, 
On  the  mistress,  sweet  Mistress  Maloney  I  drop 

Witli  my  brogue,  &c. 
1  stpieeze  her,  I  press  her,   1  ogle  and  3  gji. 
She'll  have  me  as  soon  as  her  husband  does  di« 
He  fipssick  a-bed,   like  a  fowl  with  the  croop/ 
So  I  pledge  Ijer  bright  eyes  iu— a  bason  of  sou 

With  my  brogue,  &c.v 

A  buxom  young:  widow,  T  think  it  no  crijne. 
Accidentally  to  call  on  about  dinner  time. 

With  ray  broijue,    &c. 
She  takes  »&'  the  coror^ — I  see  the  beef  smoke 
She  cuts  me  a  slice,  and  f  cnt  her — a  joke  ; 
She's  two  little  childer,  so  I  make  astir — 
1  kiss  both  the  childer,  and— then  I  kiss  ber. 

With  my  brogue,  &c. 

When    with    the  young  widow's  old    wioo   I'yg 

made  free 
1  start  ofl"  in  haste,  with  the  fourth  to  take  tea. 

With  my   hrogne,  &c. 
An  old  maid,  whose  husband  mnsi  sure  be  her 

nurse. 
But  oeh  !   what  of  that,  as  sne  has  a  long  purse 
Surroimded  she  is  by  cats,  kittens,  and   pups. 
So  of  tea  1  take  with  her  about  fifteeu  cups, 

With  my  brof^ue,  &c,  ^ 

The  fifth  is  a  lady,  faith  !   richer  than  aH, 

She  thinks  I'm  handsome,  although  I'm  not  tall 

With  my  brogue,  &e. 
I  go  there  to  supper — *tis  by  her  desire, 
I  eat  and  I  drink,  and  I  sit  by  the  fire  ; 
Altho'  on  her  back  she  I, as  got  a  great  hunoh 
I  make  her  a  Judy  by  drinking  her  Punch, 

With  ray  brogue,  &c. 


After  drinking  the  punch,  1  feci  inclio'd  lor  a  aap 
So  1  tie  on  my  hand  kerchief  for  a  night-cap. 

With  my  brogue,  &c, 
I  sit  there  aad  doze,  and  uotl  while  I  woo, 
I  She  IclU  me  she  hopes  that  as  how  1*11  be  tru« 
If  i  should  prove  false,  she  for  ever  would  weep 
So  1  swear  to  be  constaul,  &  stop  there  to  sleep 

\\  ith  my  brogue,   &c, 

When  first  1  began  i  was  as  tliin  as  a  rat, 

1  am  iK>w  like  an  Alderman,  getting  qaite  fat 

With  my  brogue,  &« 
To  gamni<»n  a  meai  out  wfeach  '  oontrrvel 
Ar.d,  faiUi  if  i could,  1  would  i.,.rr¥  all  frr 
For  they're  ail  very  rich,  us  •  told   yv-  Ham 
I'd  bury  them — then  I*^  go  courting  Qv-    _^v» 

With  my  brogue,  &«. 

Tcv  5c  Ma*<a    Wareho  use  8 J.       J*^"     «•» 


^ 


7 


1 


^Bf    •■^i''    -S- 


Y   WINDS  DO   BLOW 


TRYST 


■    E.  HODGES  (late  Pitt's)  Printer  wh^le 
sale   Marble   and    i'oy   warehouse,  »^*. 
"'      ^^o.^,  street,  Seven  Dials. 

TN  tlie  days  of  o'd  when  forest  and  giaJe, 

To  the  hun  ers  houn  Is  were  free, 
The  merry  men  ro  lethvough  brakj  and  glade 

To  meet  at  the  tryst- tig  tree. 
And  there  was  seen  in  Liaculn  greeh. 

Full  many  a  yeom m  bald, 
Wth  a  good  yew  liow   for  buck  or  doe, 

And  «  steed  of  st  dwort  mould, 
And  loud  and  lasting-  was  the  glefj 
As  they  drank  to  the  brave  old  Irvsdag  tree. 

At  early  dawn  o;i  meiry  May  day, 

The  welkin  would  ring  witl»  glee. 
And  ihe  villagers  cirried  the  Queen  of  May 

To  be  crowned  al  the  trysting  tree. 
Bright  eve-  wouH  glance  in  the  j  )vou3  dance 

And  the  merry  pipe  would  sound. 
While  theod  man's  tale  and  the  nut  brown 
ale, 

Wou'd  add  to  the  mir  h  around, 
And  the  leaves  woule  shake  on  fho  brave  old 
tree, 

lujoy  at  their  rustic  rfevelry. 

Young  lovers  have  met  n^ath  h's  giant  shade 

When  the  curfew  closM  the  dav, 
And  there  has  many  a  maiden  pray'd. 

For  her  lov'd  one  fir  away. 
Kings  have  died  in  their  r^gal  pride. 

And  storms  have  swept  the  land. 
But  the  trysting  tree,  though  old  he  be. 

Does  still  maintain  his  stand. 
And  may  he  live  another  race  to  see> 
And  brave,  the  rare  old  trysting  tree. 


*^ 


fa 

i 
i 


^& 


i 

i 


i 

s 


&^ 


^ 


f 
f 


"Y  love  he  wa^  a  rich  farmer's  son, 
When  fiist  my  tender  heart  he  won. 
His  love  to  me  he  drd  rt  veal, 
But  little,  thought  of  th^  Nightingale. 

My  cruel  father  contrived  if  so, 
That  a'yf'ung  shepherd  should  quickly  go. 
He  told  the  pre-s  gang,  vho  did  not  fa  1, 
To  press  my  love  to  the  Nightingale. 

On  the  15ti)  of  November  last. 
The  wind  it  blew  a  bitter  blast, 
My  love  was  in  the  dreadful  galr-, 
Went  to  the  bottom  in  <he  Nightingale. 
The  veiy  nig  fit  my  love  was  lost. 
Appear  d  to  me  his  da  1)  ghost,      • 
In  sailor's  d:ess  and  visage  pale. 
That  was  his  dress  in  the  N'ghtingale. 
I  lifted  my  head  from  my  piliow  so  high. 
His  deadly  ghost  from  me  d  d  fly, 
I  little  thought  my  love  would  sail,  ^ 

Or  end  his  days  in  the  Nightingale 
O  lovely  Nancy  he  not  surprised,        < 
In  Bisc»y  bay  my  body  lies, 
To  become  a  prey  to  a  shark  or  whale, 
I'bat  was  my  fate  in  the  Nightingale. 
My  father's  dwelling  I  will  forsake, 
Some  lonely  valley  1  will  take, 
Somelon'fly  valley  or  some  distant  lii!l. 
To  mourn  his  fate  in  the  Nightingale. 

STORMY  WINDS  DO  BLOW. 

YOU  gentLmen  of  England  who  live  at 
e;!se,  the  seas 

Ah!  bttledoyou   think  upon  the  danger  of 
Give  ear  unto   the   maiint  rs,  and    they    will 

pluiulv  show. 
All  'he  cares  and  tears, 

M  hen  the  stormy  winds  do  blow  war. 

With  any  foreign  dations,  we  fear  no  wounds 

or  .'Cars,  ^or  to  know 

Our  roaring  guns  shall  teach  them  our  \alour 
Whilst  they  rei  I  on  the  keel, 
When  the  stormv  winds  do  blow. 
Then  courage  ail  brave  mariners,  and  never 

be  afraid,  want  a  trade 

Whilst  we  have  bold  adventurers,  we  ne'r  shall 
Oui  merchants  will  employ  us  to  bring  Wealth 

ye  know, 
Then  be  Ijold,  work  for  gold, 
When  the  stormv  winds  do  bndw 


ESPET 


OR,  NEVER  THROW  A  CHANGE  A  A' AY 

I'm  the  !ad>R  pet,  I'm  the  'adies  p  t, 
Aiid  after  me  thev  ay  a  jd  fr^  t, 
Tuev  love  me  as  they  love  ih  ir  iire, 
EaJi  wish  s  to  be  m\  loving  wife; 
Sj  lie  and  flat  er  of  Ci>ur8e  I  cin, 
'  i  in  thut  makes  rue  (Le  lad  es  man* 
1'vep  omsM  murri.ge  many  tidie*^ 
And  heard  the  merry  weJding  chnne«. 
But  never  kept  my  promise  yet, 
Though  Tm  call'd  tlie  ladies  pet. 

Fal  lal,  &c 
1  to  the  ladies  attention  pay, 
§•'  allow  me  a  few    f  their  names  to  say  : 
Th  r  •*>  Maria  and  fair  I-.ah  I, 
Miry'  H  ill  a  >d  gracefid  Nell, 
Rebecca  Sturiiy  and  Diiiuh  Tare, 
A/d  th  •  h.itid  o.ne  barma  d  Ellen  D.ire ; 
SwNaa  Uuni  iiiid  ili(!  ta  1  MissGrt-en, 
An  i  to  my  iist  Til  add    h    Quun, 
''"  cati;!i  nie  all    he  i-  c  p.  ii.iVe  s  t, 
Fot  1  urn  q  lite  the  ladi.s  pvt 

Fa!  lal,  kc. 
The  prt'S'tit.  I  riCfivc;  racu  d  y, 
Serves  t>»  pi.ss  t'le  .im:3  away, 
Somrti,ji< s  jevvels  so  r.ceimes  li'igs, 
An  i  oiher  splendid  lo^  ki   g  t:  i')gs, 
Hor8«'s  and  dogs  of  ev^ry  kind. 
They  send  to  ple.-sj  ray  noble  mind 
Lett  rs  ai;d  some  imes  cir'is. 
For  masquota  ies  and  pr  imenad  !s. 
Though  iinswtrs  they  bji  sel  iom  g*t. 
It  8-iows  how  they  lu\e  the  I  di  s  pet. 

Fal  lal,  Sc. 

At  the  Queen's  grand  b.dl  I  louk  my  pl.vte, 
Mhen  thsv  quukly  f-und  ou:  my  f^ce, 
My  dancing  all  del  giit  d  theie. 
The  lulian  dancers  jealous  wern— 
The  la  ilea  sm  les  were  v<  ry  bueet, 
Eaci:  siiile  with  joy  1  di.l  re;!e.t;  | 

1  po'il  ly  bowed  to  all  arouna, 
*lno  Queen  she  cuit^ieii  to  the  ground, 
Aiid  every  eye  was  on  me  sel. 
To  vin  a  smile  fr«m  ihe  la  is  pet. 

F4  la ,  &c. 
6o  maids  and  widows  hear  ras  pray. 
And  n  \e.*  throw  a  chancj  away. 
And  never  look  at  sizj  o.  make, 
Or  you  may  leave  your  j  >y  a!  stake  ; 
But  (ry  th;  lad  thaly^u  luve  leaAt, 
Aud  trus   to  foriune-for  the  r^tst. 
For  I  can  on  y  many  once, 
Or  else  I  am  a  sidy  diince, 
A  hus'^aud  g!^f  ana  n  ver  f  <:t. 
But  omo  ted  see  ihe  ladies  oH. 

Fai  ial,  &e 


GAY  CAVALI' 


IT  wa-i  a  bf^ant  ful  .i.ht. 
And  the  s  ar^  slione  bright, 

And  the  mo  m  on  the  waters  p'aved, 
Wnen  a  gay  cavaht-i. 
At  a  bower  drew  near, 
A  lady  to  sereiia  le 

To  teade.e>t  words  he  swnpt  the  chords. 
While  many  a  .si^h  br,  athed  he. 
And  o'er  a»)*d  o'er  he  fondly  swore, 
Sweet  maid  1  love  but  thee 
Sweet  maid,  SAe.t  maid,  I  lore  but  thee. 
He  raised  h's  py.  s 
To  the  latt  ce  hi<;h. 

While  he  fo  idly  breathed  bit  hope*, 
With  amtizement  he  see-. 
Swing  ab  >ut  by  tie  br  eze. 

Already  a  ladder  of  rope.<* 
Up,  up,  he  is  gone* 
The  b.rd  is  fl  two^ 

what  is  this  on  tue  eround,  quoth  he. 
If  is  p'ain  tiiat  sho  lov.  s, 
Hee's  some  g^JtlemiuN  g'oves. 
And  they  ne*er  b  lonoed  to  me, 
Thee  gloves,  tiu  se  gloves,  tiiey  naver  he* 
l'»nged  to  me* 

You  a'l  Would  hare  thougat 
He  wouli  have  AIloAe  1  sTnd  fought 
Tbat  bein^  t  je  d;ieLinj  a^e> 
But  t'lis  gay  cava  'e  , 
Quite  scorned  th  ^  i  lea. 
Of  pultmg  himseif  i.i  a  rage,  , 

More  w  St^  by  fd:-^ 
He  put  up  his  guifar. 
And  L's  horn  w  ud  hj  went  fang  he, 
when  a  lady  elopes 
D  )Wn  a  la  Ide.  of  rop  s 
She  may  ^o  to  II«.Dg  Kong  for  nm 
Sae  may  go,  she  may  ^o    ehe  ma 
J  long  Kong  for  we, 


H01X3E3,  Fri5rti?r,    (ftrom  PITT  S)  TVhok«dhe  Toy  Warehonse.SI 


Street  7  Cia 


% 


THE  JOI,LT 


BUCCANEER 


TN  tbe  good  ship  Revenge   how  we've  spanked 

thro'  the  ocean, 
She's  flush  to  our  purpose  yoa  ne'er  saw  the  like, 
Balls  and  bullets  whiz  by  but  ne'er  cause  an  emotion 
Till  we're  bowle-d  down  we  never  will  strike, 

Thus  sticcess  and  seaman's  cheer 

Giads  the  jolly  buccaneer. 

Fond  of  change  in  all  weathers  and   climates  we're 

roving, 
Now  a  sort  of  hard  tussle  and  now  a  soft  booze, 
With   the  girls  and  a  fiddle   sometimes    kind   and 

loving 
See  dropped  off  a  messmate  and  step  in  his  shoes, 
:  Still  success,  &c. 

Well  stored  now  with  plunder  at  nine  knots  we're 

steering, 
To  where  copper  fair  ones  will  greet  us  on  shore, 
There  we  laugh,  quaff  and  sing,  and  with  curaing 

and  swearing. 
Oar  cargoes  we  see  out  then  to  sea  boys  for  more, 

Thus  success,  &c. 


I 


LOVE  NOT 


T  oVE    tiot!  love  not !  ye  hapless  sons  of  clay, 
-"-'^HopeS  g^y«st  wreaths  are  made  of  oarly  flowers, 
Th'ngs  that    are    made  to  fade   and  fall   away, 
Ere  tiiey  have  blossom'd  for  a  few  short  hours 
lire  they  have  blossom'd  for  a  few  short  hours 

Love  not,  love  not. 

^Love  Hot,  love  not,   the  thing  you  love  may  die 
^JWay  perish  from  the  gay  and  gladsome  earth 
y'fee   silent  stars,  the  blue  and  smiling  sky. 
Beam  on  its  grave,   as  one   upon  its  birth. 

Love  not,  love  not. 

3Love  not,  love  not,  the  thing  you  love  may  change 
The  rosy  lip  may  cease  to  smile  on  you, 
Tbe  kindly  beaming  eye  grow  ■cold  and  strange 
The  heart  still  warmly  beat,  yet  not,  be  true 
The  heart  still  warmly  beat,  yet  not  be   true 

Love  not,  love  not? 

I^ove  not,  love  not,  oh  warning  vainly  said 
In  present  hours,  as  in  years  gone  bv. 
Love  flings  a  halo  round  the  dear  one*s   head 
Faultless,  immortal,  'till  they  change  or  die 
IP'aultless,  immortjl,  Hill  they  change  or  die. 

Love  not,  love  not. 


GOING  OBER 

DE    MOUNTAIN 

i^H  here  1  am  c  both  old  and  young, 
^-^  Listen  to  my  funny  song ; 
ril  sing  to  you  one  not  very  long. 
Of  going  ober  de  mountain. 

CHORUS. 

Fare  de  well,  my  own  true  Iwh, 

Fare  de  well,  my  darling  ! 
Oh  good  bye  my  Nigger  gal. 


*^ 


I  am  going  ober  de  mountain. 

I  fell  in  lub  wid  a  Nigger  gal, 
And  she  thought  1  was  a  good  pal; 
But  I  am  forced  to  leave  my  gal, 
*Cause  I'm  going  ober  de  mountain, 

My  poor  gal  began  to  cry, 
And  wid  a  cloth  she  wipe  her  eye. 
She  told  me  dat  she  would  die. 
If  1  went  ober  de  laniintain. 

My  poor  gal  did  faint  away. 
Then  on  the  ground  she  did  lay, 
And  I  heard  all  the  people  say 

Him  going  ober  de  mountain.       > 

Oh,  from  de  ground  my  gal  did  rise, 
And  wid  my  coat  I  viped  her  eyes ; 
Says  1,  lawk  my  gal,  how  you  cries, 
'Cause  I'm  going  ober  de  mountain* 

I  kissed  my  Nigger  gal  and  pressed  her  haa 
Her  eyes  run  like  a  fountain, 
So  good  bye  all  my  friends  at  home, 
I'm  going  ober  de  mountain. 

Now  all  good  people  I  hah  done, 
^^    And  1  hope  you  wiHbuy  a  song, 
^^     For  you  see  1  want  some  browns 
^^        To  help  me  ober  de  mountain. 


$.  Hodges  from  PITT'S  Toy  and  Marble  Warehous*,  31,  Moemouth  Street,?  Oi^ile. 


GOOD  BYE   SWEETHEABT  GOOD    BYE 
II  KISS  MK  OUICK. 


BONNY  DUNDEE. 


Pnii'.ed  at  Hudg«  s,  v»liolesalo   Toy  and   Alur- 
ble  warebuuse,  26,  Grafton  Sltett,  Soho. 


TMl!^  otiier  niajlit  as  i  was  sparkinj^ 

s  w  t  et  Vn  rl  i  na  S  n j  a  v . 


The  more  \\c  whispeiM  our  love 
tailing  the  more  vve  had  to  say. 

The  old  folks  and  the  little  ones  weie 
fast  asleep  in  bed, 

1  beard  a  footstep  on  Lhe  stairs,  now 
what  do  you  think  she  said. 

Oh  kiss  me  quick  and  go  ray  honey, 

Kiss  me  quick  and  go, 
To  cheat  surprise  and  prying  eyes. 

Why  kiss  me  quick  and  go. 

The  other  night  I  took  Tarlina  a 
moonlight  promenade, 

And  soon  vve  brought  up  tu  the  door- 
step where  the  old  loll  s  stray'd; 

The  clock  struck  one  our  hearts 
struck  two  when  peeping  over- 
head, 

I  saw  a  nightcap  raise  the  blind  now 
what  do  you  think  she  said. 

Last  Sunday  night  we  sat  together, 

sighing  side  by  side, 
Justli^e  two  winter  leaves  of  cabbage 

in  the  suilhine  fried  ; 
My  heart  with  love  \^as  nigh  to  split 

to  ask  her  for  to  wed, 
Said  I,  shtll  I  go  lor  the  priest,  now 

what  do  you  think  she  said. 


H 


i^rr'^ 


■^% 


M 
W. 


TO  the  Lord's  of  Cjnvention 'twas  Ciaverliouss 
Spoke ;  *' 

Ere  tf  e  king's  crown  go  down  there  are  crowns 
to  !)e  broke, 

Th-^n  (acli  ravalierwhn  loves  honour  and  niie. 

Let  I. Ill)  fi'.ilow  the  boniu-ts  of  Ijonii^  Duticie''. 
Coine,  fill  ii[)  my  cup  — co'iie  fill  up  my  caa 
Come  sat  die  my  ho  ses  j  nd  call  out  my  men 
TJiih().')k  the  west  p  >it,  and  It  t  us  <ra^>  free, 
Pur  ii*s  up  wi'  the  b  nnets  ol  bonjiic  Dundee 

Dundee  h'  is  mounied  he  ridt^s  up  the  street, 
Tlie  bells  ih<y  ting-  hucliwa  d  (he  drums  iliey 

are  be.it  ; 
But  the  provi  St  {   oy>c^  moil)  and  just  e'en  let 

it  be, 
For  tlie  (own  is  weil  rid  o""  diat  de'il  o' Dundee 

C.jnie,  t\  1  up,  &c. 

Ti  ere  are  hills  beyond  Pentland,   and  lands 

beyond  Pi-rth, 
n  there'^  Lords  in  the  south   (here  are  Cnitfs 

in  the  iNorth  ; 
There  are  brave  dinnie  yassals  three  thousand 

timts  three. 
Will  cry  *  heigh,"  for  the  bonnets  of  bonnie 
Dundee.  Come  fill  u  ^  i^c. 

Then  awa'  to  the  hills  to  the  lea  to  the  recks" 
E'e  T  own  a  usurper  I'd  crouch  with  the  fox  — 
And  tremble,  false  whigs,  in  the  midst  of  your 

glee. 
Ye  hae  no  seen  the  last  o'  my  bonnets  and  me 

Come  fill  up,  kct  , 


GOOD  BYE,   S.VEKIHEART 
GOOD    BYE 

TPIE  bright  stas  fade  tlie  morn  is  breaking* 

The  <  ew  drop?  pearls  each  bud  and  Kaf, 
And  [  from  ihee  my  leave  am  taking. 

With  bli's  t  .o  brief,  witli  b  iss  too  brief. 
How  sinks  rn    heavt  with  fond  alarm, 

Ti  e  tear  is  biding  in  mine  eye. 
For  lime  doth  thrust  me  from  thine  arni<:. 

Good  bye,  sweetheart  good  bye,  g<i.jd  bye. 

The  sun  is  up,  the  hirk  is  soir'ng 
Loud  swell  the  soii^  of  chantiLlee'', 

Tbe  lev'rct  bounds  over  eaith's  soft  floorini^. 
Yet  i  am  here,  yet  I  am  her'^ 

For  fince  night's  «iems  from  Heaven  did  fade, 
'  And  morn  to  fior  1  lips  doth  hie 

I  cjuld  not  leave  ihee,  thu'  I  s  lid 

Good  bye,  svvcetbeart  good  bye,  goad  bye.'^ 


yOXJKa  NAPOLEON 

OR    THK     BONNY 

BUNCH  OF  ROSES. 

Tune— '*The  Hunch  of  Hushes^  OV* 

TXY  the  dangers  of  the  ocean, 

One  mornsng  in  [he  month  of  June, 
Thef<i..li:.er>i  •       '-  'f'M  soniifsters,  ' 

Tbeir  ~^«a>iiiiTig*'<^>*^'S  so  swett  did  tune. 
There  1  espio(i  a  f  mai,'. 

Seemingly  in  grief  and  wop, 
And  convt-rsing  with  v^'un-j  Bo^iiapaftP, 

Concerning  tl.e  bunny  b-  ^^  of -roses,  0  I 

'  O,  then  said  vourig  Kapoleo^^ 

At'fi  grasp  d  his  mother  ^^  ^^^  j^j^^j^ 
■  Do  Mother,  p  a^^';^v>^p,.jience, 
U  tii  2  ail)  able  to  com  maud/ 
I  will  raise. a  terrsltieariTiN, 

And  th.ou'W  t^emendoui  danger* g«,* 
And  ill  spit  d'  all  Uie  universte,       .  '~^' 
I  wili  gain  tlxi  bonny  bi»«ch  '^,tO»e8,0  ! 

When  first  yoti  sa^v  great  Boiiapart© 
Y'U  fell  upon  >our  bendeU  knee, 

Ji.hi\  <Ksked  yt'ur  father's  hfe  of  hioay 

*     lie  i;ranted  it  mo^t  manfully; 

'Twas  then  he  took  an  arnoy, 
'      And  o'er  tie  fjcz'n  realms  did  go. 

He  said,  ril  eonq  xr  Moscow, 

Then  ^'o  tJ  the  bann>  bunch  of  roiei^  O  ! 

He  look  tJiree  himdred  thousand  men, 

Ani  iikewive  Kings,  to  join  his  throjj*,    • 
He  wus  so  well  provided, 

Enouiih  to  swtep  this  world  along 
JB<ul  when  he  cain^  near  lo  Moscow 

)\e;r  overpo'.ver'd  by  driven  »no%T, 
All  Moscow  wa    II  blazing, 

T'''R  bo  l>  nt  ihe  bonn\  bunch  of  ros?«,0. 

Now,  son,  ne'er  speak  so  venturesomo 

For  Efi  il;!i.d  is  the  heart  of  oak 
Kngland,  !rti  nd  and  Scotlasid 

J  hfir  uiiii y  ha*  neVr  been  bruk« ; 
Aiid  >ion,  look  a«  yoiir  father 

In  S*.  ar^lerui  his  hody  lavs  low 
And  yo»  w.U  s(K)n  foJ!ow  afwr 

So  ba^areci"  ih«  ixjuny  bivnch  of  rests,  O 

O   mothfr   ad'sia  for  errr  ! 

^•'w  I'ai  utt  uiy  dying  b«d 
>  I  hul  liveJ  I  shouLi  bi-Vf  b^'oo  clc%  r 

But  no  V  I    jcoap  mv  yov.iiik  hI  ke..,d 
li\}l  whdt  oar  bun«i  <.<©  mai^\  i*  r 
^T'.ad  we^piing^  willows  o'er  ims  grow 
"^kifi)  ui'ust  ot  buld  Napolwon 

v"\  ilLfct>L|?  the  b(»iij  t^mli  (d f 9»i'S  0- 


K.  Hodges,  Printer,  WholM.de  Toy  and  Marbl« 
Warehouse,  2G,  Grafton  Street,  Soho  Where  may  be 
obtained  all  the  old  8z  new  Sonus  of  the  day,  Childrao* 
Booiss,  &c 

There's  a  ferave  liuie  bark,  stealing  outlii 

the  dark.  ^ 

From  her  nest  in  the  bustling  bay  ;       "l^ 

Tiie  fresh  breeze  meets  her  dingy  st^eets^'t 

And  swiftly  she  darts  away.  ^       *.         )\ 

She  never  must  run  in  the  «yes*of  |ne  sim 

But  along  with  the  owl  take  wing. 
She  must  keep  her  flight  from  the  moonlit 
night. 
For  she  carries  the  smuggler  king  !      ¥ 

she  must,&c.  | 

A  monarch  is  he,  as  bold  as  can  be  | 

Oi  a  strong  and  daring  band,  ^ 

The  bullet  Jind  blast  may  no  whistling  past 

But  he  quails  neither  heart  nor  hand; 
fie  lives  and  dies  with  h's  fearful  prize  ; 

Like  a  hunted  wolf  he'il  spring 
with  trijfger  &  dirk,  to  the  deadliest  work. 

And  light  like  a  smu^fgler  king. 

Back  from  the  wave  to  his  home  in  tho 
cave,  . 

1  n  the  sheen  of  the  torches*  jrlare. 
He  rei;jns   V>e   lord,    of  the   freebooters* 
board, 

And  never  vvac'^stlier  fare 
Ri^nt  fi«  in  &  true  are  the  hearts  of  l)is crew 

T^i^ere's  faitn  in  the  shout-    ha    ring, 
As  tijfcv  atav."  the  cask,  and  dram  the  fla^ 

AnU  Ci"Vik  to  tiie  smuggler  kjug; 


I  ^       ^f^^'     I     '    V-A    /Iv  f    l!l^*^i 


i; 


MY  MOTHER  S 


^  *  (^'-    SCIIOFIKi,!,.) 

Anrf  ril  go  out  and  rU!         ' ,^    u   '  """'^  ^^«'">*«*«P  Hh>  clothes; 

j,^' iiu  ana  take  a  w;i  K,  bers  ic<^;f  ;», »«  « 
These  were  mv  mmK<:.rV       .        "t'ca-moit  is'so  hue  r— 

jre  my, mother  s  custom..,  and  so  ihcy  .hntl  ha  mmel 

y   my  mother  s  <^5toms,  am.  so  they. shall  W  mine! 

The»«!  were,  &'.•,. 


•sprats 


W  dear  away  th.  d.nner-th.n^..  and  thro^awayth 
?^b„d   don  t  pm  them  in  U,c  yard-~it  o.connl.3^,,  .  . 
And.  Tommy,  yougootrt  to  pby.  but  d<>«t  4  ^n t^  c' in- 
And,  Sarah.  yo«  can.no  dawa  'c  s^r*    •.„,!'  >  ' 

shir^;  -  aawasra.rs,   and  ruoowt  yoiir  father's 

r>oa't  rub  too  hard,  hut-^vrmCT  it  .i~,  .1       l 

The.  „„.,„,  .n„u..v"x:;;'^;,j;:i:::^Ks  t^,^r 

^Wtese  were  my  mother*  euitowui  anrj  «r^  i-i        t  n  ,        . 

.7  ••'*»Mww,.ana  so  they  shall  beroiwi   . 

These  were,  &c.  . 


£$€ILANB'S  ^TAOIfATIOK! 

,j  Or,  I  wonder  where  the  Money  is  gone. 

WE  HAVE  LIVED  &  LOV'D  TOGETHER. 


nnhe   Oldest  perse »  in  the  world. 
On  land  or  on  the  water, 

d  never  see  such  times  as  these, 

Since  iVoah  beat  his  daughter. 
Poor  people's  doors,  I  am  sure 

Are  oo  the  hing!e»  creaking^. 
All  clothe?  i*  popp'd  the  railroads  stopp'4 

And  all  the  banks  are  breaking, 

Clio  R  CSV 

Tens  of  thousands,  out  of  work. 
What  will  old  England  come  to^ 

I  carnot  think,  says  old  John  BulF^ 
Wl.ere  all  tlie  money  is.  gone  to. 

1  wondai*  wiiere  tlie  money  goes. 

Said  Bob,  in  Covenb  G-ardea, 
Kiddies  used  to  sport  their  half-a- erownsj, 

Hut  now  they  ca«'t  get  farthings; 
The  butcher  cannot  sell  hi  fat. 

The  miller '&  hat  is  dusty^  '  ^' 

The  baker  say.s  hh  penny  loaves,. 

Are  getting  stale  and  musty.  >.^ 

The  chimney  sweepers  have  no  work^ 

The  irrocers  makea^  fuss  then. 
The  coilheavers  have  naught  to  do ;; 

And  neither  have  the  dustmen. 
They  have  discharged  and  sent  at  large,^ 

Ten  thousand  excravigators,^ 
Twelve  thousand  snobs  areout  of  wort-   j 

And  a  million  navigators* 

The  theves  say  times  are  very  hard 

If  pockets  »hey  find  twenty, 
Mneteen  of  them  are  marked  to  let— • 

They  are  completely  e^tipty 
The  doctors  say  they  have  enough  to  dOj^ 

The  lawyers  they  are  not  crying. 
The  undertaker  says  he's  glad. 

Because  the  folks  aie  dying. 

The  pretty  giis  tWt  roanv  the  streets, 

fn  sorrow  tides  are  giving. 
And  say  it  they  keep  out  all  night 

They  can-not  get  a  living  j 
If  lliey  meet  a  swell,  hows.id  to  tell. 

He  nicely  does  trepan  her 
Where  she  uped  to  get  a  haU-a-buU, 

She  scarce  can  get  a  tamier. 


I 


r^4- 


9^ 


<:: 


} 


The  Queen  was  taken  queer  one  night>  'f' 

And  sent  for  l?illy's  widow, 
"Who  said  we'll  for  tlje  doctor  send. 

But  Vic.  said,  aunt  consider 
My  lying  in  I  w\]\  put  off  ^  I  i 

For  a  inoiitli  to  make  it  all  right^         "  I  ^ 

Fi>r  now  1  could  not  money  find  I  t 

I  know  to  pay  the  midwife. 
;    E..  HO0GK3,  (from  the  late  I.  PITX'S)  Wlwlesale  Toj 


If  times  don't  alter  \ery  soon,  ,/' 

We  all  shall   pine  in  grief,  sir^ 
And  have  to  sew  up  all  oivr  moutha^ 

And  pull  out  all  oup  teeth  sirs, 
Oltl  Nosey  in  the  House  of  Lords, 

Knocked-  down  Winchelsea  right  slap^  v 
Bawling  where  is  all  the  money  gone,        "^ 

And  tlien  he  eat  bis  knapsack»       ^'^^ 

i'/ 
I  wonder  where  the  money  goes^    I 

There's  sucl»  a  fuss  about  it. 
Money  is  a  giovioas  thing  ^ 

We  cannot  do  wLtlxout  it. 
They  have  raked  it  up  and  sent  if  oljf 

In  waggon  loads,  what  capers,  -^ 

Some  say  it's  gone  to  kingdom  come. 

For  sausages  and  tatersr  ^ 

If  they  don'"t  make  some  money  soon, 

John  Bull  will  play  some  capers,    -4 
Either  out  of  iron,  brass,  or  steel. 

Dried  caiibage-leaves  or  papers  ;  j 
No  matter  what  it  is  so  long, 

As  times  are  very  funny,  y 

U  it  is  good,  and  made  of  wood. 

And  we  can  call  it  money.  ^ 


t-X^ 


WE  HAVE  LIVEDO 

And  Lov'd  Together. 


W 


E  have  Irv'^d  and  together  •  .,    '    • 

Though  many  changing  years, 
We  have  shar'd  each  others   gladness. 

And  wept  each  others  tears.  .; 

I  have  never  known  a  sorrow. 

That  was  long  unsooihed  oy  thee 
For  thy  smile  can  make  a  summer,   j 
Where  darkness  else  would  be*      J 

Like  the  leaves  that  fall  around  us,    ^ 

In  Autumns  fading  hcurs  ;  j 

Are  the  traitor  smiles  that  darken, 

Wlien  the  cloud  of  sorrow  low'rs. 
And  lhrout;ll  niarTy  such  we've  known,  love,^ 

For  prone,  alas  !  to  range  j 
We  both  can  speak  of  one,  love,         , ' 

Whom  time  could  never  change,     • 

We  have  liv'd  and  lov'd  together,       V   , 

Through  many  changing  years  ;        f 
We  have  shar'd  eac  li  others  gladness 

And  wept  each  others  tears. 
And  let  us  hope  the  future. 

As  the  past  hath  been,  will  we,       ) 
I  will  share  with  thee  thy  sorrows,     \^    jxi 

And  thou  thy  joys  with  me,  i^-  J"^     ^ 

and  Marble  Wareliouss  31,  Dudley  Street^  7  Pialt 


;:!rS?SS:>  c>2S?:>«^ 


EniC! 


E.  HOOHRS,  Printer,  (from  the  htr-  I 
PITTS'J  Wholesale  Toy  anl  VI  irble 
Ware)ioti«e.  31,  Street,  7  ry'itls 

N.B.-— Couutrv  dealers  an(l  tlip  Trade 
SuppliH  with  evory  -article  conivotL'!  wiiit 
Trade  Clieaper  than  any  Hoii<w^  in  Londwh. 


I'm  sit'inf  on  the  «m1p  Msrr, 
Where  w«  sai  siilo  !>y  si  le. 
On  a  btiglit  May  mornios  ton-i  ago. 

When  fi<'rt  you  <v«re  niv  bri'lc  '. 
The  com  was  8piio,L'i&c;  Iresh  ami  higb^ 

An<l  the  lurk  iuns  iciid  a.ul  'ii:,'ti, 
And  the  r.«ti  »•*«  on  you  li^',  Mary, 
And  the  love  tight  in  your  eye. 

The  place  i«  little  chan^teil,  Mary, 

The-day  ajt  bright  as  tlien, 
Thp  Urk's  loud  song  is  lu  my  ear. 

And  the  corn  is  gropn  iijiiin  ! 
But  I  miss  the  soft  claop  of  vnur  h«nd. 

And  the  breath  warm  on  my  che'^k. 
And  I  Rtill  keep  li»tnin^  for  the  word* 

You  never  more  may  speak. 

TU  but  a  stop  down  yonder  lane, 

And  thel.ttla  church  stands  aear. 
The  church  whcrp  we  were  wed  Mary, 

I  see  the  spire  from  here  ; 
But  tte  grtive-yard  lies  between,  Mary. 

And  n«y  step  might  break  yonr  rest. 
For  I've  laid  you,  darliag,  d<»wn  to  stesp, 

WRh  yosr  baby  on  your  breast. 

m  rery  loneJy  now,  Mnrr, 
■"Far  the  poor  make  no  few  frientla. 
Bat,  oh  I  tkey  love  the  bntter  far, 

The  fdw  our  father  sends. 
And  you  were  all  !  had,  Mary, 

My  bW-ssin:?  a«»d  my  pride  : 
lliere's  nothinp;  left  to  care  for  tww, 
Siaee  n;y  poor  Mary  died, 

Tm  Wdjinj  vou  a  \or^  farewell. 

My  iVIarv  Tcmd  and  true, 
But  t  ii  MO',  lon^et  you,  datMtig, 

1  a  till'  land  I  in  JToing  ko. 
TWt'v  ^av  iSerA'«  Vrre»d  and  work  fof<|  1, 

\n'\  ih«>!«nn  stupes  always  ti)«r% 
1^  ril  not  tor>{«toJd  Irelroiif 

M*n  A  &i\f  t«ne«  as  fsM> 


FOR  A'  THAT! 


HODGtiS,  Primer  and  Puhiish^r' 
(Fnm.  I.  PITTS'),  .31,  Str«e 

Seven  Lials,      A  h\r>re  Coffectioiv 


nPhatal,  are  tiiinuls  to  me  ii's  plam, 
■••  \\  ho  have  honest  iieiiri  and  a"  lliat 
The  upst-irt  knave  and  fool  so  vain, 

Are  friends  to  none  lor  a'  that 

Foi  i^'  tliat  and  a*  that, 

Tflfv  are  piejuiiic'd  and  a  that, 
A  Cliri'tiun  true,  will  deem  the  Jew, 

A  btother  still  for  a'  that. 

The  perfuHi'rt  fop  with  narrow  mirlS 

U'i.l  scoff,  nay  aneer  and  a'  that, 
Tho'  he  iswrouii  to  net  unkind, 

\V''  can  b    I  pity  a'  ;li«t, 

Yes  a'  th;it  anit  a'  thai, 

Intolfruni  mid  a-  thai, 
I  t^u^t  with  me,  you  will  a  gro«, 

A  Jew's  a  man  for  a'  that. 

A  follow  creature  in  d  stresa. 

To  srant  him  aiil  and  a'  that, 
The  heart  doth  slow  1  must  oDniis'f 

To  find  the  means  for  a'  that  j 

For  a'  that,  and  a'  Ihat, 

Our  dutv  'lis  ind  a*  that, 
\A'li;it>r  the  creed,  if  he's  in  need, 

\V«'re  brothers  a'iU  (or  a'  tkat. 

If  yon  to  worship  ere  inclin'd, 

Vou  choo?eone  way  and  a'  that, 
Pcrh.ips  another  1  might  find, 

>liould  we  dispute  for  a'  that; 

F.  r  a'  ihat,  and  a'  that, 
The  heart  dictates,  and  a'  that. 
Two  pathes    we   choose— still  He»- 
poict, 

We  strive  to  gain  for  a'  that. 

I  hnpo  aid  trust,  that  come  It  mu«t. 

And  oome  it  will  for  a'  that 
Whsn  overy  man,  whate'er  his  creed. 

Wilt  honour'd  be  for  a'  that. 

For  a*  ihrtt,  and  a'  that, 

'*^  e'H  hand  is  hand,  for  a'  that, 
j^  mtn  to  man,  we'll  prove  m  trfemU, 

Nay  bioth«(s  be  for  •'  &at. 


Ip^ 


GRAND 

CONVERSATION 

UNDER  THE 

'     ROSE. 

A  S  Mars  and  MLaerva  was  viewia^  of  some  fm- 

plenientSr 
BelcMia  steps  forward  and  asked  the  news. 
Or  where  they  repairing  those  war-Jikeinstruments 
That  is  now  growing  rusty  fof  want  to  be  used  ; 
The  money  is  with  drawn  and  our  tiade  is  dimin- 

ishing^ 
For  Mechanics  are  wandering  without  shoes  or  hose 
Come  stir  up  tie  wars  tiud  our  trade  will  be  flourish- 

Tills  grand  conversation  was  under  the  rose- 
How  they  transact  in  the  states  of  Anterlc-a, 
Their  renown'd  indepeadencesits  on  tl»e  thronP» 
They  are  not  misguided  by  the  schemes  of  amiuistry 
Thai  would  extract  marrow  from  the  centre  of  a  bone 
Had  we  eBlarg*d  that  hero,  who  sat  the  world  a  trem- 
bling, 
Whosename  was  a  terror  to  Ui?  imperial  foe,  (bling 
Althrough  the  day  lie  lost  it  was  bought  by  disem- 
This  grand  conversation  was  under  the  rose. 

lie  was  a  fine  statesman  likewise  a  noble  generry 
His  equal  in  France  was  never  seen  before,  * 

His  abilities  were  as  bright  as  the  diamond  or  the 

mineral. 
Which  thousands  raay  verily  that  lay  in  their  gore. 
It  was  thro  lie  wasguided  by  the  hand  of  Providence 
Until  his  gtsllant  army  he  did  wildly  expose, 
And  when  fortune  did  slight  him  it  proved  a  bitter 

consequence^ 
This  grand  convesation  was  under  the  rose* 

Here's  the  farmer  and  comedian  wish  that  grea 

Bonepart^ 
Would  come  on  the  stage  and  act  a  new  play,. 
For  they  find  their  industry  isled  by  a  ministeral  art 
And  bU  is  not  sofBcient  their  debts  for  u>  pay, 
But  the  acts  of  Napoleon  would  makethe money  fly 

about. 
Until  combined  in  polecy  they  did  hfm  disclose, 
And  thousands  who  rejected  him  would  be  glad  to 

see  him  again, 
Thift  grand  conversation  was  under  Uie  rose. 

But  Britannia  of  late  has  erected  a  grand  residence 
Embllished  with  an  hall  and  an  emblem  of  peact>, 
And  His  Majesty  is  crown' d  with  the  great e*l  of  op- 
pulence,.  (chase 

Bat  her  »portsmen  are  idle  and  have  no  game  to 
Her  ancliors  lay  in  harbour  and  her  hearty  tars  they 

want  their  grog» 
The  broom  at  the  mast  head  shews  the  daring  foe, 
That  shell  sweep  the  main  ocean  when  again  she 

bravely  heaves  the  log^. 
This  ^rand  cunversatioa  was  under  the  rose,. 


•*i^^i^m*9^^mi^$»*> 


0  »T>MBPga[  g^;-5^»^^^6^^€»» 

SHE    LIVES  WIT! 

__D  E  AJ?^ 

HOHGE's  (From  PITr.s,)  wh^ilesnTe  tmt 
and  Ma.ble   warehouse,  :JI  ,Dadely-st,  7  UiaJs- 


(^*r>*es  vrilliam  when  first  come  from  sea 
'  Does  any  one  know  my  Annette  ? 
^  Oh!  vsay  is  she  faithfal  to  nie  ? 

A  las;  'tis  so  long  since"  we  met^ 
"  Yes,  yes  an  old  gossip  replies. 
We  all  know  her  very  well  here, 
^  she  has  red  lips  and  bonny  black  eyes,. 
0tf  And  she  lives  with   her  own  Granny 
^§  dear,^ 

^i  **Grerjadier  !  did  yoit  say,  did  you  say 
E^  grenadies/ 

^^  Yes,  yes  the  old  gossip  replied 
^^  She  lives  with  her  own  granny  dear; 
e^  Oh,  dear  oh  dear. 

^,  Annette  flew  to  welcome  him  home; 
h^    Hut  he  turned  from  the  maid  in  disdain 
^      False  girl.  I  suppose  you  are  come- 
^  To  Jeer  me  and  laugh  at  mjr  pain,. 
^      Since  scandal  has  blotted  your  name, 
W  1  deem  you  unworthy  a.  tean 
^      Tve  been  told  by  an  elderly  dame,. 
^  That  you  live  with  your  own  grenadier,. 
^  Grenadier  did  love  say,  &c^ 

^  Quoth  pretty  Annette,  do  you  dar© 
^      Xo  call  me  inconstant  and  frail,, 
^  Beware,  master  William,  beware 
^    I  low  you  trump  up  an.  old  woman 's  tail^ 
^  It's  true  that  such  stories  are  told, 
^  But  we  don't  believethehalf  that  we  here^ 
^      1  own  that  my  granny  is  old, 
hi  So  I  live  with  my  own  grannv  -lear. 
*  ■  OU  dear. 


JOCKEY  &  JfilNNY'S 

Tl^IP   TO  THE  FAX  It 

Ji  was  on  tlio  morn  of  swMiet  May  day, 

Wben  nature  painted  all  the  things  gUy 
Taught  b'rds  to  sinj?  and  lambs  to  plav, 

And  gild  the  meaflows  fair, 
Yoittisf  Jockey  iearly  in  the  morn 

Arose  and  tript  it  o'er  the  lawn. 
His  Sunday  coat  the  youth  put  <>ix 

For  Jenny  had  vowed  away  ID  rti^i 
VVith-Jockey  to  the  lair. 

The  cheerful  parish  bells  had  rung 

With  eager  steps  he  trudjjfed  alunjf, 
Willi  flowery  garlands  roiinit  hiru  hiuv^ 

Which  shepherds  used  to  wear. 
He  taptit  the  window,  hast  my  dear 

•Jenny   impatient  cried  who's  there. 
Step  gently  down  you  have  uoughi  to  te-^ 

With  Jockey  to  't*ie  fa  r. 

My  dad  and  raahiifty  b  asleep 

My  brother  is  up  and  with  his  shee^. 
And  will  you  stili  your  proiuiso  kei^p 

Which  I  heard  ydti  sweJr, 
I    will  by  all  the  pOwei*H  abjve, 

And  ne*er  deceive  my  ch'arniiog  d6ve^ 
Dispel  those  doubts  and  haste  iny  love 

VVith  Jockey  to  the  lair. 

lichbld  the  ring  thfe  shepheril  oried 

Will  Jenny   be  uiy  thartuiug   brid*. 
Let  Cupid  be  our  happy  gaide 

And  Hymen  meet  us  thew- 
TJien  Jockey  did  Lis  Votvs  r<jxjew 

He  wonld  beconstaut  wuttld  ix*  tiu'^ 
With  cowslips  t  pi  witli  b-luiy  d«w 

Willi  Jcuuy  ihe  fair. 

In  raptures  meet  tbe  giddy  tUroJiy 

Ihusic  gay  ooropaniuus  LlytiJ'e  aiid  \dhi.^ 
Each  join  the  daooe,  each  joiu  ihe  b-<?ug, 

To  hail  the  titippy  pair 
In  this  there's  noiiti  S;>  iwud  oa  th«y, 

They  bless  tl«*  kiad  j;ry}3iU(»ue  *i  i>\. 
Tlje   cii.»rmiitg   llawviry   uiv).'ilh   uf  >i4iv, 

Whtn  lovely  Jenuv  n.ii  i.tvuy 
\V;l»  JijCr.^^  Ij  thtfiu.r. 


..•:>,V'*'-'*'^'""'':'^^ 


"    WAS    A     SAILOR'S    WIFE. 

pOOR  Bessv  Was  a  Sailor's  wife. 

And  he  wm  off    to  sea, 
Their    only    diild    was    by   Iherr    side^ 

And  who   so    sad  as    sfie  ? 
Forget   me  not,    forget  we  not, 

W  ben  you   arc  far  (ram  me. 
And  whatsof'er's  poor  Bessy's  lof^ 

Slie  will  remember  thee. 
A  (vvelveinonth  scarce  had  passed  ivi&y, 

As  it  was  told  to  me. 
When  Willie  with  a  gladsome  heart. 

Came  home  again  from  sea; 
fie    bounded  up  the  craggy    path, 

Antl  sought  his  cottage  door, 
Bot  his  poor  wife  and  lovely  chiW 

Poor    WiUie  saw  no  moref. 
Forget  me  not,  forgot  me  not. 

The  words  wrung  in  his  ear  ; 
fie  asked  the  neighbours  one  by  oh« 

Eikch  answered  with  a  tear. 
They  pointed  to   the   old  church   yard 

And  tfieir  his  youthful  bride 
With  the  pretty  child  he  loved  so  weft, 

Were  resting  side  by  side, 

THE  GRAND  CONVERSVTION  OF 

NAPOLEON. 

It  was  over  that  wild-beaten  trac        euh  of  bold 
Bonaparfc, 
Did  pace  the"  »ands  and  lofiy  recks  of  st. Helena's 
shore, 
The  wind  it  blew  i   hurricane,    the  lightning's 
flash  around  did  dart, 
The  sea  gulls  were  shrieking,  and    the  waves 
around  did  roar  ; 
Au  !  bush,  rude  winds,  the  stranger  cried,  awhile 
1  range  the  dreajy  spot, 
Where  last  a  gallant  hero  his  envied   eyes  did 
close, 
But  while  his  valued  limbs  do  rot,  his  name  will 
never  be  forgot. 
This  grand  conversation  on  Napoleon  arose. 
Ah  England  !  he  cried,  why  did  you  persecute  that 
hero  bold. 
Much  belter  had  you  slain  him  on  the  plains  of 
Waterloo;  (and  old, 

Napoleon  he  was  a  friend  to  heroes  all,  both  young 
lie  cauti'd  the  money  for  to  fly  wherever  be  did 
go  ;  (commander  to  betray, 

When  plains  were  raging  night  and  day  that  bold 
He  cried,  I'll  go  to   Moscow^  and  then   'twill 
ease  my  woes.  (shall  me  obey 

If  fortune  shines  without  delay,  then  all  the  world 

This  grand  conversation  oo  Napoleon  arose. 

Vhat  thousands   of  men  he  then  did  raise^  to  coft* 

'-0     V    ^uer  Moscow  by  surpriw^  ^-.-r;*-     .:?.--. ;; 


.     He  led  ni»  meti  across  tri€  Afps  oppfessccf  hy 
frost  and  snow^  (open  hfs  eyes^ 

But  being  neaf  the  Russian  land  he  then  began  to 
For  Moscow  was  a  buriying,  and  the  men  drove 
to  and  frOf 
Napoleon  dauntless  vieWcd  the  flame,  and  we|>t 
in  anguish  for  the  same, 
He  cried  retreat  my  gallant  men,  for  time  so 
Cfuickly  goes, 
What  thousaitds  died  an  that  retreat,  some  forced 
their  horses  for  to  eat, 
rb?s  grand  conversation  on  Napoleon  arose. 
At  Waterloo  his  men  they  fought,  commanded  by 

great  Buonaparte, 
Attended  by  field-marshal  Ney.and  he  was^  bribed 

When  Boucher  led  the  Russrans  in,  itnearJy  broke 
Napoleon's  heart, 
He  died  my  thirty    thousaad  men  are  killed"^ 
and  1  am  sold, 
He  viewed  the  plain   and  cried  it's  lost,  he  then 
his  favourite  charger  cross'd, 
The  plain  was  in  confusfoo  with  blood  and  dying 
woes, 
The  bunch  of  roses  did  advance,  and  boldly  eater 
ed  into  France, 
This  gram!  conversation  of  Napoleon  arose. 
Then   Bonaparte   was  planu'rf  to   be  a  prisoner 
across  the  seas, 
The  rocks  of  St.  Helena,  it  was  the  fiitat  spot, 
Doom'd  as  a  prisoner  there  to  be  till  death  did  end 
his  misery, 
His  son  soon  followed  to  the  tcnnb,  it   was  an" 
awful  plot, 
It's  long  enough  have  they  been  deady  the  bfast  &t 
war  around  is  spread,    .  (daring  foes. 

And  may  our  shipping  (loat  again   to  face  the 
And  now  my  boys,  when  honours  call  we'li  boldly 
mount  (he  wooden  walls, 
This  grand  conversation  on  napoleon  jsroscj 

TIME  HATH   BEREFT  THEE.    % 

"^^HEN  time  hatk  bereft  thee  of  charms  now 

divine 
And  youth  shall  have  left  thee  nor  beauty  be  thine 
When  the  roses  shall  vanish  that  circle  thee  now. 
And  the  thorn    thou  would'st  banish   shall   dres» 

on  thy  brow, 
Inlhe  hour  of  thy  sadness  thou'lt  think  npon  iit  ■ 
But  the  tho;;ht  shall  be  madness  deceiver  to  th&,, ; 
When  he  who  could  turn  thee  from  virtue  and 

fame, 
Shall  leave  thee   and  spurn   thee  to  sorrow  and 
shame, 

en  b)  him  thus  required,  thy  brain  shall  be 
stung. 
Thy  hopes  shall   be  blighted  the  bosom  he  wruu"* 
In  the  depth  of  thy  saduess  thou'lt  then  think  o(f 

me. 
But  that  thought   shall  be  madness  deceiver  tii 
thee. 

\ 


W  arehouse,  31.  Dudley  Sireet,   date  MoootOQ    ' 
Street.. Seveu  I>i„l»,     -  ^^^ 


OLli 


WONT    YOU 

TK\     ME    OH 


■•^1«"S-^^'* 


^.  Hodges,  Printer,  Wholesale  Toy  and 
Marble  vVareliouse,  26,  Grafton  Stred. 
Soho,  London.  Where  may  he  obtained 
ail  the  Old  and  New  bongs  o(  tiie  day.. 


I>own  m  Sky  town  lived  a  maid,, 

Smg  song  poUy  won't  you  try  me  oh,. 
Churning  butter  was  her  trade, 

Sing  song  polly  won't  you  try  me  oh,  * 
She  loved  a  feller  whose  name  was  Will, 

Sing  song  polly  won't  you  try  me  oh. 
His  dad  he  used  to  own  the  mijl, 

Sing  song  polly  won*^t  you  try  me  oh. 
'Kemo,  kimo,  where  oh,  there,  my  high  my  low, 

Then  in  come  gaily  singing, 
Sometimes  medley  winkum  lingtum  nip  cat, 

Sing  song  polly  won't  you  try  me  oiv. 

She  wanted  Will  for  worse  or  better, 

Sing  song  polly  won't  you  try  me  oh, 
She'd  have  married,  but  dad  would'nt  let  her> 

Sing  song  polly  won*t  yon  try  mo  oh, 
And  so  she  went  and  grot  "a  knife, 

Sing  song  polly  won't  you  try  me  oh,. 
She  broke  her  heart  and  lost  her  life, 

Sng  song  polly  won't  you  try  me  ob.. 

*J.nen  Josh  he  felt  his  dander  risin. 

Sing  song  polly  won't  you  Iry  ma  ohj. 
3q  he  went  and  swallowed  pisin,. 

bing  song  polly  won't  you  try  me  oh. 
The. village  folks  langh'd  in  their  sleeve,. 

Sing  song  polly.  won't  you  tfy  me  oh, 
JCdr.  Joidan's  ahard'road.to  tt-avel  li  believe, 

Siag  song^  poll)?,  won't  you  tryi  me  oh- 


lilfCY 


BRAVE  OLD   OAK. 


'rioDGHs,  rrl.nfor.Xff'"!""  pitts,)  Whole- 
sale Tov  Warehouse,  31,  Dudley  St. 
Seven  Dials.  A  variety  of  New  Songs 

^   <^on2,  io  tiie  Oak,  the  brave  oUIOak, 

Who  btttli  rul<  (1  in  the  {rreon- wood  loner, 
ir<M-p'«  henlt'i  and  renown  <o  his  liroad  green  crown 

AnfV^'i^  fi'tv  n"n)<»  so  stron^j. 
Ttjpir'a  f«'nr  in  liis  frown,  \vh<'n  the  sun  goes  down 

And  fijo  Ci^e  in  (iir  wpsrt  fjides  onh 
jliid  He  shrvreth  l))-^  ini>rht  on  a  wihi  ni;dni:;hi. 

When  the  st'nrnj  through  lis  l»ranchi'S  shonti 

Then  here's  fn  the  oak,  thp  bravo  old  oak, 

^\\ut  vtattds- i^»  hi"  pride  al<>nc. 
And  s'i'l  flourish  lie  hail  green  frfp, 
M'lu  u^ft  Inindrcd  y^'ars  an-  gone. 

T^Hl^e  dsusMtf  <\  I  when  thf  spring  with  cold, 

]Vm\  hr  nl'.li'MiU'il  liis  bn'.nches  grev, 
Tim)i}^h  the  gisss  at  Ids  feef,  crept  maidens  swerl 

To  t'U'hirlhr  i\i\v  t  f'  niav. 
AhuIou  tiiat  fkiy  n^  the;  reitck  gav» 

'\'\n'\  fudi.  k'd  u'itli  liivfsojnt' Huainj:, 
They  tin-.  g<ite— thej  Rr«  dead — in  tisf  thnrch  vard 

l.id, 
RiU  the  tree  Jt  sti'l  remains.  Then  hcrfV-,  5s:c 

Me  sflH'  tiipfire  times  »:?'h<'n  the  Chri>>nuis  cbiinef, 

^N  as  a  UK-T'N  lioiind  to  ii«  re, 
^'hrn  ilic.  Mpiiies  widt*  hali  and  the  coliag;©  smal],  i 

\A  here  lill'd  wit!)  good  English  cheer. 
Ho*  g(rkl  Itf'fli  'hes\vrt_\  —  w«'  all  obey, 
.u.^  \t)(\  nrnW  l«»iS  king  is  he, 
\Un  he  never  eh-.iil  s.-nd  i»tir  ancient  fricnrf, 
To  be  tdM^i^  ou  the  .itoniiy    ea. 

I'Len  htTu's  to  the  ouk|  5cc. 


21 


^ 


!©! 


© 


£3 


if 
4 


15 


& 

© 


^^ 


^- 


A   LOWLY    \i)urir 

J\  lowly  yonlli,  liie  miuntain  child, 

Wilhiu'lii"  liearf  a  love   conccii'd, 
Pilose  di'pthj-witb  aci;en'9  .sweet  and  wild. 

To  echo  otily  ho  reveal  d'. 
Ah, -if  yon  know,  he  \voo4<l  repeat, 

How  fair  slie  is  hou»  tmo,  liow  fouel— 
nnr  eclio;  fHitlifor  and  discreet^ 

Tiie  s.iine  he  breuth'd  would  not  respond, 

ITiS  secret  hju-in*^  thus  posscss'd 

She  j>riz<i,?o  much  its-  charmed  tono,- 
That  eciio.  str^ngo  to  say,  oonfess'd  ■• 

Instead  oP  hisdoep'ove  her  own, 
That  vo'co  St)  tender  and  s  »  »\veet, 

Wa=i  h'irVs  who  worsl;i]};)d  at  liis  shrino,         \ 
And  \rbieh  «»«!(!  day  and  niglit  rept,«rt, 

M\.  heart  is  fond  and  true  as  thine. 


BURIAL    OF   LUCY 
N  E  A  L. . 

Tnae— -The Death  of  ISelsoU. 

IlCCirATlVB. 

\^'er  t,uc\*s  ;;rfivc  de    niggers  dey  all  pressed  to 

h  (h  a  peep,  and  try  and  wake  her  rest — dey  sung" 

},i\<^H  l.ncy  NcjI,  and  Ule  Jnn  Crow,  but  found 

to  wake  her  up  it  was  ud  go. 
Avn. 
'Tw  a"!  near  Long  Island  bay,  poor  Lucy  sb«  did  lay 

her  grave  was  six  loot  ten — 
Fi)r  her  our  hearts  did   teel — ah,   poor  Miss   LoGy 

N eal,  de  pride  oi)  all  bla^-k  men, 
Din  rueker  led  us  on  de  way,  each  nigger  was  to 

ging  and  ssay,  (heaaty 

Dat  siie  was  such  a  branty  ! — dut  she  tvas  such  a 
Deso  words   in  eur  plantation  rung — Merriky  « x- 

pccts  dat  e\ery  man,  will  iigljt  1  ke  bricks  for  i^uey 
Will  light  lik*.i  bricks  tor  Luoy. 

As  tVom  de  grave  we  went,  on  mischief  we  was  bent 

And  who  d'ye  titik  wespy..ole  Lnc)'s  nmiisa  dcre, 

W"c  puHd  liim  by  de  liuir,  and  bung  up  boli»*li<8 

eyes  ; 

He  eallcd  fur  help,  but  us  boys  began  to  Siog  our 

church-vard  noise, 
p  ,  slie  was  8uch  a  heauty  !  she  was  shch  a  beaufcv 
Disc  w't»rd.s  in  ou;  plantation  rang— Merriky  en- 
peots  dat  el)e«y  u)an  will  tight,  ^c. 
At  last,  adreaiii'ui  blow  trom  Ji-ur  along  a  Joe, 
Kimckcd  Lucy's  niaiia— J oa,  knucl{*d  Lucy's  maawi 

down. 
It  was  a  dreadful  peg,  'tic  lifted  up  hiai  le*,  ' 
And   8a}s>   I've  l»eeu  dune  brown -anoi her    kuook 

lie  iUdn'i  feel. 
lie  wdb  quite  ta  deud  us  ^isa  Neai,  for  ska,  Jre. 


irSSt*.^ 


Adieu  to  Old  ElEiglrifMf, 
or   the    Transport^^ 

FAREWELL 


^f 


%*  Shops  and  Travellers  suppl'iPfi  with  Cliii  'rrn's 
Primers  and  Story-Books,  Sons^-liooks.  Siuu-t  >^>>ni;s. 
Patters,  and  Klips,  omann-nted  with  Eiisra\  ir.gs — 
tlie  Greatest.  Variety  in  Loicion. 

Cojne  all  voh  wild  youuy  fellows  wlicrever  yoii  may  lie. 
One  moment  g-ive  aitcnlinn  and  listen  unto  me  ; 
. T  am  a  poor  unhapjJV  soul,  wilbiii  tliose  v.alls  I  lay. 
!My  awful  sentence  is  proijounc'd  i'-"*"^wni  »obo;"ny  bay 

1  \VHS  bromrljt  iii)ii!lendern»ss,  niy  parents  lOi, I.  ._   ght. 
'I'liey  never  coii'd  l)e  tiappy,  but  wlien  I  was  in  their  sight 
Tluy  nourisli'd  my  tencier  years,  and  oflto  me  wou'd  say 
Avoid  all  evil  company,  lest  lliey  lea<l  you  astray. 
My  parenjts  bound  me  'prenlicu  all  in  fair  Devonshire, 
To  a  Linen  Dr;i()er.  the  truth  you  soon  shall  hear. 
!  bore  an  excellent  eliaracler,  my  master  lovM  me  weli, 
"I'ill  in  a  harlot's  coni[)aiiy  unforltmately  I  fell. 

In  the  gayest  of  splendour,  I  muintain'd  this  lofty  danir. 
But  when  my  money  spent  she  treated  me  with  disdain. 
She  said,  so  r<>!)  your  master,  lie  has  it  in  great  stoie. 
If  some  money  you  don't  set,  pray  see  my  face  no  more. 

To  her  bad  advice  I  yielded,  and  to  my  master  went. 
To  plunder  him  of  what  I  could,  it  was  ray  full  intent, 
Of  costly  robes  and  money  too,  I  took  as  you  shall  hear, 
.Ml  from  the  best  of  masters,  as  to  me  did  appear, 

The  next  robbery  I  did  commit  'twas  on  a  genMeman, 
Of  full  500  sovereigns,  he  placed  them  in  my  hand  ; 
I  taken  was  for  this  sad  crime,  to  Exeter  sent  me 
Thf  harlot  then  forsook  me  quite  in  this  extremely. 

The  assizes  drew  near,  before  the  Judge  I  stand. 
My  prose<!ut<ir  then  swore  that  I  was  the  very  man  ; 
Mv  aired  parents  dear,  they  so  bitterly  did  cry, 
O  nnist  we  with  bleeding  hearts'  bid  our  boy  good  b\e. 

My  master  and  friends,  as  they  stood  in  the  hall. 
What  floods  of  tears  tney  shed,  and  for  mercy  did  call ; 
The  cruel  jade  no  mercy  shew'd,  but  unto  me  did  say 
iMy  lad  for  life  your  transported,  and  to  botany  ba> . 

The  day  before  I  did  set  sail,  as  I  lay  in  my  cell 
My  parents  dear  came  to  me.  to  take  their  last  farcwijll, 
Uown  on  my  bended  knees  I  fell  their  blessing  for  to  crave 
Crying,  alas,  my  dear  parents,  this  will  bring  you  to 
the  grave. 

My  mother  fainted  in  my  arms,  in  sorrow  aud  despar, 
My  father,  broken  hearted,  tore  off  his  aged  hair. 
Floods  <if  tears  they  shed,  like  drops  of  morning  dew, 
iVo  other  words  they  could  pronounce,  but  son,  w  hat 
must  we  do. 

Now  to  my  native  country,  1  take  my  last  farewell. 
The  grief  I  feel  witiiin  my  breast  I'm  sure  no  tongue 

^■n  t<'Jl,  parents  sav. 

"Vottng  men  advice  and  warning  take,  mind  what  yoin 
Avoid  all  harlots  eunipanv.  least  you  <ro  to  Botanv  hav 


U 


I'M  A  TOUGH 

True    Hearted   Sailor. 

I'm  ii  tongli  true-lieai ted  sailor, 

C'are!oss  atid  all  ii:at,  d'ye  see, 
I^etvr  fit  the  limes  a  railer —  J 

What  is  time  or  tide  to  ine. 
AH  must  die  when  fate  must  will  it. 

Providence  ordains  it  so, 

Every  bullet  has  its  billet, 

Man  the  boat,  boys — Yeo  heave  yeo. 

Life's  at  best  a  sea  of  trouble, 

H*  who  fears  it  is  a  dunce, 
Death,  to  me,  an  empty  bubble, 

I  can  never  die  but  onee, 
*       Blood  if  duty  bids,  I'll  spill  it, 

Vet  1  have  a  te  ir  fur  woe, 

Every  bullet  has  its  billet.  &c. 
Shrouded  in  a  hammock,  glory, 
,    Celebrates  the  failing  brnve, 
Oh  !  how  many,  lamed  in  story, 

Sleej)  below,  in  ocean's  cave, 
Bring:  the  can,  boys,  lei  us  fill  it, 

Shall  we  shun  the  fight?  oh,  no  1 

Every  bullet  has  its  billet,  &c. 
S888788S8S8S83838SS3383S3S3S388888S8S 

OLD  ENGLISH  GENTLEMAN. 

I  LL  a'lnff  you  a  pood  old  song"  made  by  a  pood  old  pate, 
Of  ti  fine  old  tinulish  g-entiemiin  who  h;id  au  old  estate. 
And  who  kept  up  hi:)  old  inuiision  Rt  a  bountilul  old  rHte, 
\S  ilh  a  good  old  poiter  to  relieve  ihe  old  poor  hs  his  gate. 

Like  H  line  uUl  Kii^li.stt  g;eatiemaD. 

H'^  hall  BO  old,  was  hiinfr  around  with  pikes  and  guns  and  bows, 
v\ud  swords,  and  fj-ood  old  buckUs,  which  had  8toud  ag'aiu^t  old  foes 
i^iid'  'twas  there  hi:*  worsiiip  sit  in  state,  in  dotibu-t  and  trunk  hus«s 
iksd  quutfed  bis  cup  ot  good  old  >ai-k,  to  wiinn  ids  g-oud  old  uoh: 
Like  H  tine  old,  &c. 

Wtifn  winter  old,  brought  frost  and  cold,  he  opened  iiouee  to  a!l, 
And  ttK(ut,rh  thret-seore  an<l  ten  hU  years,  he  teatly  led  the  ball, 
Jf*r  was  the  hi. uselesB  wanderer  e'er  driven  froia  hi^^  hrtil,  ^     f^i"^ 

¥ot  while  he  leitated  all  the  preat,  he  uever  forjfot  the  small.         '     h^*ci 
Like  a  tine  old,  &c,  >;'  ''■^ 

Eut  time  thonsrh  Bweet,  Isstronp  in  flight,  &  venrs  roll  dBwi'tly  br  crfSr^ 

i_J     • V.  ...li; l,...»  l_: .   .u-  .  ij    '     _   1- _    ,■      ■'      -     %^^T\ 


And  Autum's*  t»lii(j;r  ifut  proclaitnea  the  old  wan  he  must  <iit', 
He  laid  Lini  down  ugh:  TauquiUy — tfnve  up  his  life's  latest  siurh, 
Aud  Diouriif'jl  tfieuds  stood  round  bis  couch,  and  tears  bedinimed 
eaih  eye.  for  the  fine  old,  &c. 

Kow  surely  this  is  better  far  than  all  thj  vain  parade, 
Ot  theatre,  nnd  tuiicy  hal!,  'at  home,"  and  mncquerade, 
And  much  more  ecoiiOinual,  »litiii  rtll  your  bills  are  pidd, 
Thoa  leave  your  aew  va^-..' 'h  nii'.  mid  lAk-  ^i^,  'he  old  trade. 
*  •»'  a  111.*;  old  tug^jsli  pe.4t!eman. 


(fiTJ 


THE 

Cbiimmy's     W  edding. 

TU.Xi: THE  M.WHOLK. 

If  you'll  Hiten  to  me,  I'll  sin^,'  of  a  ?pree, 

llvat  hai>penM  a  week  or  two  batk, 
Conoeiini^-  a  girl  niinieJ  carrotty  SaJ, 

And  a  Ciii.iiumy  ca!!'rt  bvimly-Ieggd  Jack, 
The  ()arish  feijan  to  hntl  *Mit. 

S>Jie  brought  them  too  miny  to  keep. 
So  aoreed  to  cotne  down  vvith  four  or  live  poundf, 

'I  o  portion  lier  ofl' to  the  sweep. 

Tol  oJ  tol  ol,  &c. 
To  have  n  grand  rout,  ^ack  toddled  about. 

And  inviied  Ihe  whole  o(  his  palls  ; 
He  made  it  all  right  tor  a  fiddler  at  night, 

'Cause  he  knew  there "d  be  plenty  of  gaU,  ' 
He  provided  plenlv  of  grub, 

With  tr-itter  and  max  beside. 
And  chanting  Bill  of  great  saffron  hill, 

Agreed  to  stand  dad  to  ihe  bride. 

At  last  came  the  day,  they  were  drest  out  so  "ay, 

.lack  sptnted  his  velveteens, 
Sal  borry.v'd  a  dress  which  wis  worn  by  fat  beai>. 

When  <ihe  cnper'rl  to  Jiick-In-the-green, 
The  Clergyman  join  d  the'r  hands. 

And  made  oidy  oneof  them  both. 
He  settled  the  j«>b  without  charging  a  bob, 

'Cause  he  saw  he  was  one  of  the  cloth. 

Then  homeward  they  went  on  punishment  bent, 

And  they  .swore  they'd  pitch  into  the  grub; 
There  was  lots  of  scran  in  a  large  brown  pun. 

And  leg-of-beef-sonp  in  a  tub! 
Jack  prais'd  the  cuttings  of  tripe, 

While  shoving  into  his  croup, 
And  all  swoie  to  a  man,  that  as  how  Mr.  Cann, 

Never  made  such  a  kettle  of  soup. 
The  dinner  being  done,  the  lushing  began. 

Gin  went  round  noilh,  east,  west  and  south, 
No  j:la>ses  they'd  ^ot,  so  they  swiggd  from  the  pot, 

/nd  they  took  it  by  word  of  mouth. 
The  hdiiler  struck  up  fur  a  hop, 

\Vhile  seated  a-top  of  the  trunk. 
But  not  one  of  the  batch  could  come  up  to  the  scratchy 

1  hey  were  all  so  infernally  drunk  I 

At  last  the  lot  so  lushy  had  got, 

They  neither  could   stand  or  go, 
The  wonu'fi  did  howl,  the  men  did  they  growl, 

It  was  just  like  a  wild-bea^l  show 
And  .lack  couldn't  put  them  to  l>ed,' 

'Cause  the  devil  a  one  had  he  got. 
So  they  roli'd  off  in  pairs  down  the  da.-k  cellarstairs  ' 

And  wallowed  all  night  in  the  soot.  '~ 

Before  break  of  day  they  (ound  out  the  way. 

To  cuddle  each  other  bang  up; 
Neitiier  Sal  or  Nan  (ound  fault  with  their  man 

But  all  were  well  pleased  with  their  shop. 
But  mark  me — in  nine  ruonth"s  time. 

Where  ih^y  hadlicen  laid  ii;  heaps, 
The  women  did  squall,  the  Doctor  did  call, 

Aud  foumi  a  large  bundle  of  sweeps. 


E.  HODGES,  (from  Pitt's,)  Printer  and  Toy  Waiehouse,  31,  Dudley  Street,  Seven  Diai». 


THE    PRICE 


E.  Hedges,  Printtr,  31, 


Streeti  7  Dials. 


It  ff&s  in  this  town  not  far  from  ihis  spot, 
^  barber  once  opened  a  .*.nug  little  shop, 
Altho'  qii  te  a  stranger,  his  smiles  were  so  sweet. 
He  Gjuld  fairlv  entice  people  out  of  the  street, 
"WMh  his  lathe. -em  shave-em, 
Lather-cm  shave-em, 
Lafher-em  &e. 

Now  he  lii.d  been  in •  manv  a  year, 

He  s.havtd  all  the  natives  so  clean  and  so  clear, 
And  now  he's  come  here  to  tlirow  out  some  sprats, 
Not  mackarel  to  ca'ch  but  gudgeons  and  flats. 

Wiih  his,  &c. 

From  one  evil  pracice  he  swore  he  would  stop, 
That  no  one  shculd  ivor  get  his  ttust  in  his  shop. 
For  with  an  old  r  zor  full  ot  notch  s  and  rust, 
He  wonld  p  dish  Ihesr  jaws  should  they  ask  him 
for  tvust, 

With  his,  &c. 

It  happened  an  Irishman  going  that  way, 
\Vhose  beard  bad  been  growing  for  many  a  day, 
He  iook'd  at  the  barber  then  throw  aown  his  hod, 
Here,  master,  give  us  a  share  for  the  pure  love   of 
God. 

With  his,  &c. 

Oih  the  divil  a  penny  I've  got  in  my  purse, 
If  you'll  giv.'  us  a  shave  you'll  be  none  the  worse 
Come  in,  said  the  barber,  sit  dowu  in  a  chair, 
And  your  long  grisly  beard  I  will  mow  pretty  clear. 

With  his,  &c. 

He  then  spread  (he  lather  on  Paddy's  bi^  chin, 
wiih  the  old  rusty  razor  at  work  did  begin, 
Och  murder/  cries  Paddy,  the  razor  you've  got, 
ll  wonlJn't  cut  buiter  if  it  was  msde  hot. 

with  his,  &c. 

Och  mujder  an  nouns  poor  Paddy  did  cry, 
And  from  the  shop  door  och  bow  he  did  bawl, 
You  may  lather  5t  shave  all  your  friendi  till  you're 

siek. 
But  bv.  Jasus  I'd  rather  be  shaved  with  a  btick. 
/i^^-i  with  hi8,^&c 

Now  It  happened  one  day  a  donkey  did  roar, 
Puddy  thought  the  sound  came  from  the  barber's 

shop  door, 
Oc'i  !  listui  to  that  vagabond  knave. 
He's  now  giving  somebody  a  love  of  God  shave. 

wiih  i  is,  &c. 


m 


October  the  first,  a  day  sure  the  wort.t,    ^ ^'^ 

I  straight  took  my  way  to  the  sweet  fair  of  Tria 
There  to  se'l  a  swine  it  was  my  design, 

She  was  fat,  fair,  and  compli  te  in  each  limb ; 
My  swine  was  as  mild,  as  a  lamb  or  a  child, 

You  might  drive  her  all  over  the  world  with  a  sprig 
The  (ruth  for  to  tell,  I  sold  her  right  well, 
Three  pound  ten  was  the  pricelreceiv'd  for  my  pi^ 


^  With  the  cash  on  my  thiyh.  &  the  gla-^s  in  my  f>c, 
^^     To  the  to«n  I  did  fly  iil^e'a  sjiortrng  young  Iuk  L, 

^^  1  met  a  smart  dame  sho  belonged  to  the  g-ane, 
^^       She  up  to  me  came  to  be  sure  for  gt>od  luck  ; 

&^  She  (ipt  me  the  wink  we  went  for  to  drink, 
ds^       The  jade  bewitched  me  to  danc  •  Veniis's  ji^r, 

f^^  And  in  the  wheal  round  she  si  pt  her  haud<lov\'n, 
^^      And  striptmo  quite  bare  of  the  price  of  my  pig 


When  I  miss'd  my  share  like  a  man  in  desp  ir,      ; 

I  ran  tearing  my  hair  searcldog  her  up  dn  d.>wn, 
Each  corner  and  lane  I  searc  led  all  in  vain, 

Not  a  sight  of  this  damnable  jade  to  be  fouud  ; 
Meet  her  where  I  will  I  su«e  wil!  hiT  kill, 

I  swear  by  the  hair  of  Lord  Norbury'd  wig. 
Till  the  day  that  I  die  fvtr  \  eng  aace  I'll  cry. 
On  the  jade  that  robbM  me  of  the  price  of  my  pig, 

To  Navkn  n^xt  day  I  straight  took  my  way. 
As  I  heard  of  a  fair  being  field  m  Slane, 

When  1  caper'd  there  I  was  loaded  with  cure. 
To  think  that  ray  walk  it  waa  labour  in  vain. 

To  the  house  of  John  Flinn  I  next  stepped  in. 
Where  I  danc'd  three  reels  and  one  double  jig. 

In   opes  by  &  by  I  might  cast  my  eye. 
On  the  jade  that  robb'd  me  of  the  price  of  my  pig. 

By  the  Buek,  by  the  Doe,  by  the  Lord  of  Mayo, 

By  the  great  bog  ofAllen^&tbe  high  hill  ofiiowth, 
By  the  church,  by  the  bell,  &  by  Paddy  Mc.Kell, 

And  for  to  swear  more  you  know  I'm  loath  ; 
Meet  her  where  I  will,  1  snre  will  her  kill, 

I  will  not  her  spare  for  tory  or  whig,  * 

And  for  this  base  action  I'll  have  satisfaction; 

Upon  the  jade's  boues  for  tlie  price  of  ipy  pig. 

Now  since  it  is  soi  straight  home  I  will  go, 

My  shuttle  to  throw,  and  fram  drinking  refsaio, 
I  will  stick  to  mv  loom,  while  youth  is  in  bloom, 

I  will  never  be  caught  by  a  strumpet  again. 
If  the  Lord  Mayor  knew  the  cause  of  ray  woe. 

He  would  surely  come  here  in  a  chaise  or  a  gig. 
He   would  search  l.e'afid  round,   where  the  jado 
could  be  fgund 

He*d  Diit  her  in  puvuid  for  ttc  piice  of  my  pig« 


E.  Hodges,  Printer,  wh9legale  loy  &  Marbl^  warehouse  26,  Grafton  St  Soho 


^lON. 


There's  a  g' od  time  coming,  Iw'f 

A  good  tiine  comin<r,  /    < 

"^Ve  may  nwt  live  to  seo  the  t   Jf 
Eiiit  then  our  little ba'  bios  B?^| 

III  the  good  tiirc  coming  '   . 

\    ^^  hen  every  onovvill  be  so  rkYi,  ^ 

'.        With  long  pur.*o  come  out  strong    ^ 

Of  woik  catch  any  doing  a  stitch, 
y       Wait  a  little  longer. 
cHoauN 
^rhere's  a  good  tinie  coming  bojs, 

A  good  time  coming. 
There's  a  good  time  coming,  boys, 
i       Su  wait  a  little  longer. 

ThTe  8  a  good  time  coming,  boys, 
A'good  time  coming, 
I      When  government  will  cease  to  aX 
V     Us  for  The  blessed  Income  Tax, 
f         In  the  good  time  coming. 
1     The  sevenpence  saved  in  ev'ry  pouiKl 

Will  make  us  come  out  stronger. 
]      Jdvself  a  new  coat,  spoue  a  gowud 
V-        Wait  a  little  longer. 
'i   '  There  a  good  time  ct>miDg,  ke. 

\ 

\     There's  a  good  time  coming,- boys, 
A  good  tima  coming. 
TR'hen  all  things  English  thro'  the  land, 
Shall  'stead  ofForei.^n,  take  their  stand, 
In  the  good  time  coming, 
/     When  Koyaltv  «hall  patroni:?e, 
*  'I  he  British"  Drama  stronger, 

An^dvvith  Billy  8haksi>€arl'raattrnizc, 
Wait  a  little  longer. 

i here's  a  good  time  eoming,  &c. 

'i  here's  a  good  time  coming.  Ix^ys, 

A  gcxid  time  coming, 
Wives  will  not  have  cause  to  say,    ^^ 
"  ni  not  stir  out  this  shabby  way,         ^  . 

In  the  good  time  coming. 
Husbands  v/ ill  not  screwimize. 

But  do  the  liberal  stronger, 
And  grant  their  dear  wives  fresh  supplies, 

Wait  a  iiUllfc- longer  ^ 

i  here's  a  -^ood  time  commgy  &c., 

'1  licre's  a  gooil  time  coming,  boys, 

A  good  time  coiui'.i  if - 
"When  penny  loaves  will  be  unkncwn. 
And  quartens  so  exteudyc  grouu, 

lu  tht' good  time  earning. 
Let  your  faiuiiy  be  e'er  so  ihhc':. 

Suy  ten,  or  twelve,,  or  stronj^r,        ^    ^ 
*'X*ti\  take  a  week  to  cat  a  Bru'k, 

Wata  .ittle  Idni^er, 

'i  here's  a  good  time  commg,  tcc; 


f* 


Inheres  a  good  lime  oominf,   fro/s, 

A  goo. I  tinie  coming, 
V  hen  not  a  woman  in  the  la>.d, 
Unmarried  shall  be  left  on  hand. 

In  the  good  time  coming. 
Kot  one  shall  be  left  on  hand, 

(Kxcusc  my  language  strongcfj) 
I'd  sooner  marry  you  all  myseb, 

Sj5okcn But  then  ladies  you'll  ha; 

to — 

tra't  a  little  longer. 

There's  a  good  timc^comuig, 

Tlicre's  a  good  time  coming,  boys, 

A  good  time  coming, 
when  a  Special  Constable  shall  be 
A  nat'ral  curiosity. 

In  the  good  time  aiming.  t 

The  only  staff  that  >haU  be  rife, 

woni  the  weak'uns  pick  up  stronger? 
will  be  the  crummy  staff  of  life  ! 

wait  a  little  louj^er. 

There's  a  gcx^d  time  cemiug,  «€". 

Thcre'.s  a  good  time  c»ming,  boys, 

A  gmid  time  earning,  _  .-i'V 

M-hcn  Britain's  garden,  5ay  it  we,         ''^j 
From  wcetis  seditious  sh.a  i  befree»       ^ 

In  the  good  tinu;  c-  niing, 
Peace  shall  guitle  the  great  machine. 

The  feeble  and  the  stronger  ; 
we'll  «•  ield  and  shout  God  save  the  Que 

wait  a  little  longer.' 

'1  here's  a  good  lime  coming-  «s 

I'm.    KOr    THROW    AWAY 

THE   FLOWED 

-    I'll  uultbov/  awaj  the  flower, 

•^  Though  'twas  uevtr  cuil'd  for  me. 
Though  a  rival  sought  the  bower, ' 

wlien  it  bloora'd  upon  ihelrtfe,        j 
I  could  scorn  ii,  I  cuuld  scorn  ii,        1 

wLcn  his  favoiM  gift  I  see. 
Thou  haa  wem  it,  thuu  ha^l  worn  if» 
And  it  ra«st  bo  de&r  (o  me. 

I'll  net  ihiO     away  tLe  Howtr,  ^C, 

IM  riot  i-iTuin  the  rose  be  gathorM, 

iS'u,  frtin  llico  the  ftift  I  tuke  ; 
Atid  »iuo  tv'ry  leaf  is  with«rd.       ' 

StU  I'll  f)'iz«  il  i\\  tby  sake.        -, 
1  tould  sei/in  it,  I  coiihl  -seoru  it,     S 

when  Listavor'd  giUa  i see, 
Thou  I  ast  flora  i',  thuu  hiwt  worn  iV 

And  il  must  be  dtar  to  me* 


iJodses.drom  Pitt's)  wk«l^»ls  Toy  S^,Marbte  ^atel.o^e,  31,  Dudlcy-.t.,7  D 


I'ATHEU    KEPT 

A  IIoi*i§e 


Printpti  at  Hodjrfp,  'r,.y  »nd  Mi.rljl^  \Var«  house. 
26.  Grafion  Street.  Solio, 


My  father  kept  a  horse  and  my  uiothei  kept 

a  mare, 
My  brother  kept  a  don:,  my  sister  kept  a  hare, 
Had  a  ride  from  the  horse,  a  foal  from  the  mare 
leasure  with  the  dog,and  sport  with  tlie 
My  fatlier  kept  a  bull,  mymother  kept  acow 
My  brother  kept  a  boar,  my  sister  kept  a  sow 
Had  beef  fiom  tlie  bull,  a  calf  from  the  cow 
Had  bacon  from  the  boar,&pigs  from  the  sow 
My  father  kept  a  buck,  my  motlier  kept  a  doe 
My  brother  kept  a  tup,  ray  sister  kept  a  ewe, 
Had  venison  from  the  buck,  fawn  from  the 

^'      ^  in 

Had  mutlon  from  the  tup,  lamb  from  the  ewe 
My  father  kept  a  cock,  my  mother  kept  a  hen. 
My  brother  kept  a  robin  my  sister  kept  a  wren 
Had  cliicbens  from  the  cock,  eggs  from  the 

hen, 
Had  vounff  ones  from  the  Robin  fed  by  the 

wren. 
My  father  kept  a  cat,  my  mother  kept  a  mouse 
My  brother  kept  a  flea,  my  sister  kept  a  louse 
Had  a  scratch  from  the  cat,  had  a  squeak 

from  the  mouse, 
Had  a  nip  from  the  flea,  and  a  bite  from  the 

louse. 


It  blew  a:reat  pins,  wlien  gallant  Torn, 

V\  as  taking-  in  a  sail, 
Ai\(\  squalls  came  on,  in  sight  of  home. 

That  streniithenVl  to  a  tjale  ; 
Broa(J  sheets  of  vfvid  liijlitning  glar'd 

Redecltd  by  the  main  ; 
Ami  even  j^ailant  'lorn  despair'd 

To  see  liis  love  again 

The  Klorm  came  on  !  each  rag  a-board 

Was  into  talters  rent  ; 
The  rain  through  every  crevice  pourM  ; 

All  fear'd  the  dread  event. 
The  pumps  werechok'd— theirawfj]  doom 

Seem'd  sure  at  every  strain  ; 
Kacli  tar  despair'd,  e'en  gallant  Tom, 

To  hee  bis  love  again. 

TJie  leak  was  stopt,  the  winds  grew  dull, 

'J  he  billows  ceas'd  to  roar, 
And  the  torn  ship,  almost  a  hull. 

In  safety  reach'd  the  shore. 
Crowds  ran  to  see  the  wondrous  sight  ] 

The  storm  had  raged  iu  vain  ; 
And  gallant  Tom  with  true  deli^^ht, 

Beheld  his  love  again, 


A  HAGGREWATIND  DONKEY! 


K  BOUT  five  miles  from  Town, 
•"'Lived  one  Sarah  Brown, 
By  Witshing  she  du*  earn  l•^^  bread,^ 
She'd  for  years  done  the  same. 
And  had  got  a  good  name, 
Tho"  she  often  limis  wish'd  herself  dead. 

Now  Sarah  vras  weak. 

If  the  truth  1  must  speak, 
And  not  Tery  youi>g  }ou  must  know. 

So  a  donke.   she  ^ot. 

And  it  was  the  tl'ings  lot. 
The  linen  to  take  tuo  and  fro. 

Now  her  ncijihhournext  door^ 

Ot"  fowls  kej't  a  sc  re, 
A,  bachelor,  on©  Ricliard  tiockn 

So  as  It  came  to  pass* 

This  old  woman's  ass, 
Was  Iturt  bjf  this  bulclier's  game  cock» 

Tliese  dumb  things  fell  out, 

Goodness  knows  wiiat  about, 
The  cock  hr-xt  b«  gan  tt>  show  tightf 

At  the  ass    he   lei  fly. 

Struck  her  slap  in  the  eye. 
By  wbich  tlie  poor  tbiug  loitt  its  sight* 

On  revenge   Sal   was  bent, 
To  the  Justice  she  went. 
To  get  ncompense  she  did  try, 
Jshe  |Hish'd  through  the  tbrong, 
'look  her  old  a>s  along,- 
show  t  ai  it  had  losi  an  ey«« 


*  Pray  tell  me  how  all  came  to  pass  V 

W|.y,  xer  hon'Mir,  'tis  true, 

V^  hat  I'm  tellinff  t"  you. 
His  cock  has  much  injured  my  ass  I 

At  the  light  «  f  the  morn 

'Tis  true  as  you'rv  born 
Whenever  sh'"  jrues  out  to  grass^ 

Exact   as   the    clock 

His  great  big  gKmecock, 
Is   sure  for   to   fly  at  my   ass 

Should  you  doubt  what  [  say» 

I've  l)rought  it  to-<la\, 
And  h  ;ve  ^<«t  the  poor  thing  close  behind 

If  this    ^»\   you   will   pass* 

ril  show  you  my  ass 
And  you'll  see  that  its  nearly  ttone  blind. 

Then  he  quitted  hix  chair, 

And   went.    1  decl.  re, 
For  tie  beak  was  a  worthy  old  bloke. 

To  his  eye  placi  d  his  glass* 

Took  a  sqiini  at  h  r  ass, 
And  pronounced  it  a  mucii  injured  moke. 

Said  his  worship.  Odd  lounda  I 

'Twill  cost  him  some  pounds. 
What  have  \ou  'o  say,  Richard  Lock  ? 

For  1  find  litre,  alas  ! 

How  this  «:ood  wonmn's  ass, 
Has  been  grossly  ill-used  by  your  cock* 

Then    Kichard  began. 

Says  sir,  I'm  a  poor  man. 
And  1  hope  as  how  you'll  not  be  bard. 

For  I  il.ink  tbc  old  dame, 

Must  be  satly  to  blame, 
To  let  lier  moke  grass  near  my  yard. 

It   is  envy  and    spite, 

And  1  don't  thmk  it  right. 
And  so  said  her  neighbour,  Bet  Jones, 

To  intrude  on  my  land. 

With  her  donkey  in  hand, 
Sarve  her  right  if  I'd  broken  its  bones. 

Says  the  Justice  of  peace^ 

Wi'y  this  alters  the  case. 
The  mi.tter   1    see   very   clear. 

Says  she,  it  is  wrong — 

]  say  hold  \uur  tongue. 
You'd  no  business  to  take  your  ass  there. 

Said  his  worship  away 

1  aismiss  the  affray 
You  had  n»  right  on  other  folkg  land 

So  get  thy  wa>  back 

I'll  hear  no  more  ciack 
Su  sLe  went  with  Lfir  ass  in  her  hand. 


ftaid  his  worship,  so  big. 
With  his  po/kder'd  wig 

fi.  HODGES.  Printer,  Wholesale  Toy  8i  Mwble   Warehouse,    26,    C 


LASH'D  TO  THE 


In  ftkinns  when  c]«  ik1s«  bfci  re  tV«»  sVy» 
Aud  .huntkrs  nill,  i.«'<l  lii/i^ti  iij«;s  (lj> 
In  midst  of  all  tleee  dire  al»in;s, 
I  llvnk,  my  tally,  un  frliy  charms, 
,     The  tnniii!<d  umiu, 
The  wiud  an.i  liiiti. 
My  ardent  pui-si  n  prove, 
•         Lii'h'tl  to  tii»'  helm. 

Should  seas  o'  rwh<lm> 
I'd  tbink  ou  «he  ray  love. 
"'VIk  n  rocks  apprar  ou  r^ery  sitTf, 
Ami  i>rt  i-.  va  n  il;e  sliip  to  gui  'e  ; 
In  varied  shapes  wHtn  dciith  appears,, 
The  tioui^hts  t  f  ttie  my  bosora  elu  crs 
The  troubU  d  mdj  ^c. 

But  eii<)\iM  tlie  gracious  pow'rs  prove 

kind, 
Dispel  ihe  gloom,  and  stiil  the  \tiiid, 
And  w.ft  nie  to  thv  iums  onc«  more, 
Safe  lo  my  long  lost  native  ihure. 
No  mof'  the  mtsfn 
Vd  temp!  a:^aui. 
But  tender}  )vs  imj'ro\e, 
,       i  >hew  witu  the*; 
Shi.'iiKi  h  pp\bc. 
And  t''n    on  i  ouj^ht  but  lov<^. 


WHAT'S  YOUli  GAiME 

Q'^ecf  savings  now  Vxn  sure, 
i        Areg'tiiiiii  all  Av  rai^.>, 

Sa  do  niit  think  mo  wrong 
If  I  yjHir  lime  rnzj'g  ■  ; 

That  Lic^sein's  iictt'iu'  ft^le, 
Whut  Chfor's  a  out  the  same, 

'3  it  the  lastuiie  th.it  I  lieard. 

^Vas  ohl  covey  ^V  hai's  your  gi»OTC» 

Twns  wnly  a  vet-k  or  two  bac'c, 
'       A  friend  cali'd  at  my  ahodc, 
,  To  e«  flriil  hive  a  tnaf, 
'   At  the  K  igle  iti  tlie  City  Road^ 

I  T.  ff  d  m  \  self  a  swe*!! 
I      M>  friend  he  did  liie  sime, 

AikI  as  we  to  dleddo.^u  tie  st-vcH, 
'^      i'ne  J< ids  cali'd  out  What's  your  gaiue 

^•AVhen  1  avjng  there  at  uighi  I  was.. 
*  '    J*ut  in  greax  alarm 

0  [y^n  i«  a  very  g'eat  fright. 

1  Whe"^  H  oal  Ci.coes  liald  of  my  a0m, 


I  tai  n  d  ISO  'i^ery  qu  w. 

All'*  «-oUu)  eo  up  wkh  ^banie 

\\ Iveo  >he  iw ys  are  vtMi u n>  i  iiit4  j i'd» ^ear 
Says  1,  O  HV'liafh  \e«r  ^autir- 

I  wanted  'o  livok  blir. 

For  IM  v,o   lo's  wttia, 
So  I  t»>ii(il*:d  over  to  t lie  "Green  Q:iie, 

Ani  t!'P  e  vve  liad  i<ome  Gijj  » 
She  ^vsked  wh  re  I  liscd, 

Sa.s  she  O  wliatK  vi^ura^mei 
Then  she  sli,>j>'d  it   ff  v>itb  juy  ^a'cl* 
jind  puiiie,         -       -  ^ 
8o  that  w.  8  d  cuiiuus  gam-. 

1  fallowed  her  down  thestieet,  * 

As  fast  as  I  could  run, 
'1  hiiiks  I  heies  a  preity  t  eat, 

Its  only  d<ine  in  f.Mi  , 
1  nn  bang  into  u  house, 

I  m  sure  [  dwti't  kuo.v  ti;e  tume* 
It  wa3  down   o  iBlnmera  Place, 
8u»  that  Wile  a  cur.ou-i  g^ijue. 

They  s:rii)p''d  off  all  ray  rlo  lies,. 

And  covere  I  rae  over  w  tb   iirt 
Tbc'i  turned  me  oHt  of  dour-, 

All  shwerini;  i  i  mv  i'l^i'  t 
Tliem.M  th  y'all  did  l- ugh, 

Tlie  women  cri 'd  ou!;  ■^hane, 
"When  a  bol)  ^y  como.-^  up  «:  coljas  uie. 

And  Sixyj  )ouiig    man,   VVha;s  vquc 
t,amc 

Ihey  took  me  to  the  statioa  house. 

So  tHrly  if  w-18  dawn, 
And  bf  fore  the  Be.dc  they  brought  m», 

At  Un  o'clt  c\  next  nivrn  , 
Says  lM:\t)UU(^  man  Tro  su'e. 

You're  VMv  much  to  b'ame, 
So  Forty  Bob  on  tl.e  na.l,  C^* 

You    must   pay    fwx   yonr   i^MQ 

Now  lo  pay  this  heavy  fiiit*. 

Was  much  against  oay  wiJJ, 
S)  they  s"nt  mu  twenty  daVS, 

TO  8t-p  it  ou  tho  mill  ; 
VVhen  thc-y  popped  me  in  thai  shop 

You'll  own   t»\as  a  very  g  eat  eh 
'r'lJey  »ave  me  ihc  cotauty  crop, 

Aiui  tluU  wajs  a  cropping  gaxoe.. 

Nov  YoHng  Mto  tako  my  ajihic  •, 

When  you  go  out  with  paik, 
O,  don't  be  over  nice, 

V'hen  yoa  teat  to  IKa^e  K^t  i 
If  for  laughter  Ive  ^ivec  &ju^e, 

TO  loe  itt  ad  thu  sacae 
If  I  gain  yuar  kiiid  app!<aujie, 

I  eaa  tell  y«u  thai't»  my  ihrsoa^ 


J'JL'    BOuOKS,  I*rittl«r,  Whi^lwule  Toy  '     Mixibk  WiiruhoaBe,  81,  l>ttdiey  sif*  <v^  7  Pi«i 


IT  WAS  NATURE'S  GAY  DAY, 

'THE  CHARITir  0IHi:.-BlBDir  THE  BStSKET  WOMAW, 


^T  WAS  -NATURE'S  GAY  DAY. 

It  was  nature's  gay  clay, 
Bright  smiling  May  day, 
'^liSch  heart  was  all  ready  with  joy  and  with 
glee! 
Cowslips  Were  springing, 
_      _     Village  bells  ringing, 
^4  hastened  to  dance  round 'the  flowery 
May  tree. 
^    •      'Merrily  bounding, 

May  Poles  surrounding, 
^•Each  lover  was  merry  on  that  happy  day  ; 
To  meet  mo  delighted 
By  all  invited, 
'To  join  the  gay  dance  as  the  queen  of  the 
vt  May. 

j|~  Fal  lal,  &c. 

Pr       Ev'ning  descended, 

Our  frolics  were  ended, 
3Lads  and  their  lasses  tripped  lightly  away  ; 
It  was  then  he  woo'd  me, 
Then  he  subdued  nie, 
And  promised  me  more  than  I'll  venture  to 
say. 
I  /      ^But  if  my  lover, 

Should  ever  discover, 
Jealousy  for  me  I'd  ansM'er  him  so — 
Dearest,  believe  me, 
I'll  never  deceive  thee, 
You  have   my  heart,  others  have  but  the 
show,  Fal  !al.  &c. 

THE  CHARITY  GIRL. 

I'm  a  charity  girl  as  you  may  see, 
You'd  like  to  know  perhaps  who  I  be, 
If  yon  will  listen  to  my  rhyme, 
•I'll  let  you  know  all  in  good  time, 
lly  mother  lives  down  in  Pot  Alley, 
'The  boys  all  call  me  Charming  Sally, 
Be  their  deliglit  I  always  shall, 
While  I'm  a  llare  up  charity  girl, 
Sli-fum.  ti-fum,  fnn  and  glee, 
Ifou'll  seldom  see  a  gal  like  me. 
The  folks  all  call  me  charming  Sal, 
The  pretty  little  charity  gal 

"Mother  sells  apples,  nuts,  and  cakes, 

-Of  which  my  whack  I  always  takes, 

Each  morning  I  my  pocket  cram, 

To  give  to  Harry.  Dick,  or  Sam. 

•A3  I'm  a  handsome  gal,  you  see, 

One  chap  is  not  enough  for  nje, 

I've  three  or  four — 'cause  I  can, 

Always  pick  out  a  nice  young  man. 

Ri-fura,  &c. 
'1  sometimes  has  to  mind  the  shop, 
^'Whilst  mother  does  to  market  pop, 
'What  browns  I  t.ake,  I  make  all  right, 
-And  hooks  it  to  the  play  at  night. 
■If  for  an  errand  I'm  sent  out, 
I  always  knows  what  I'm  about, 
To  nick  a  penny  I'll  contrive, 
il  bring  four  shilling  tea  for  five. 

Ri-fum,  &c. 


Each  m.orning  I  make  it  a  rule. 
To  have  a  brown  to  go  to  school. 
And  if  my  mother  dant  tip  up, 
Unto  the  fiebis  away  I  cut, 
I  sport  away  there  all  the  day, 
And  witli  the  boys  at  rounders  play. 
At  rna;bles,too,  or  flies  a  kite. 
And  never  goes  home  till  it  is  night. 

Ri-fum,  &e. 

In  learning  I  improve  quite  fast. 
At  school  I  am  in  the  first  clas3^ 
I  learns  to  write,  and  read,  ar.d  spell, 
And  missus  says  I  does  it  well, 
At  needle  work  I'm  quite  expert, 
For  I've  made  uncle  Bob  a  shirt, 
Likewise  some  shifts  and  not  a  few, 
And  sheets  apd  pillow  cases  too. 

Ri-fum,  &c. 

Kind  gentlefolks,  I  hope  that  vou, 
Will  give  me  all  the  praise  tlia'ts  due, 
Mark  my  behaviour  and  my  face, 
And  get  for  me  a  tidy  place. 
Just  take  me  for  a  month  and  try, 
You'll  see  what  a  handy  gal  am  I, 
I'll  make  the  beds,  and  clean  and  scrub. 
Fur  a  bob  a  week  and  all  my  grub. 

Ri-fum,  &c. 

But  I'll  conclude  and  end  my  song, 
I.p.st  I  detain  your  time  too  long, 
I  trust  my  faults  you  will  excuse, 
And  one  small  favour  dont  refuse, 
I'm  sure  if  you  all  speak  the  truth, 
You  all  have  had  the  faults  of  youth. 
Forgive  me  Kiine,  and  then  you  shall, 
Ueceive  the  thanks  of  the  "Charity  Gal." 
Ki-fum,  ti-fum,  fun  and  glee. 
You'll  seldom  see  a  gal  like  me, 
The  folks  all  call  me  charming  Sal, 
The  pretty  little  charity  gal. 

BIDDY,  THE  BASKET  WOMAN. 

If  ever  you  go  to  London  town. 

Just  take  a  peep  at  Common  Garden, 
Market  I  mean, — ^^there  I'll  be  bound. 

You'll  get  your  value  to  a  farthing, 
Of  fruits  and  flowers,  whate'er  you  wish, 

You'll  find  it  there  1  tell  you  true,  man, 
Whatever  you  choose,  a  dainty  diish, 

Brought  home  by  Biddy,  the  Basket 
Woman. 

CHORDS. 


Search  ould  Ireland  through  and  through, 
England,  Wales,  and  Scotland  too  man, 

The  devil  a  one  among  the  crew, 
Can  equal  Biddy  the  Basket  Woman, 

Wasn't  I  in  Waterloo, 

With  a  good  canteen  of  whiskey  too,  man 
Few  men  did  better  their  duty  do. 

Than  Irish  Biddy  the  Basket  'Woman ! 


When  Mister  Boney  loss  the  sway. 

Every  man  desarv'd  his  merits, 
And  I'm  sure  the  glories  of  the  day. 
Gave  proof  uo-eoldier  wanted  spirits. 

Search,  &c. 
With  the  ministers  I'm  hand  in  glove- 
To  speak  the  truth  there's  no  one  bolder 
The  reason  I  will  tell  you  plain, 

Pat  Murphy's  a  ten  pound  freeholder, 
O  Connell  he  takes  me  by  the  fist. 

And  winks  his  eyes  as  a  sort  of  hint- 
He  knows  I  come  from  Ireland— whist 
And  I  understands  collecting  rint. 

■Search,  8ic. 
At  Balsham's  I  hold  my  levee. 

Where  my  colleagues  I'm  always  treating 
Chaunt-seller  Kirty  drops  in  to  tea, 

And  the  pot  boy's  my  first  lord  in  waiting 
Tim  Murphy's  mastrr  of  the  Rolls, 

I'™  speaker  among  the  petticoats  there, 
We've  councils,  elections,  hustings,  polls. 
But  Lushington  gets  all  our  votes  there. 
Search,  &:c 
My  husband,  Pat,  has  the  sarvice  seen. 

At  Laming's  ladder  all  his  trust  is, 
A  common  sergeant  he  has  been, 

Bnt  he  thinks  he'd  make  a  good  Chief 
Justice. 
The  Ordnance  Board,  sure  as  a  gun, 
Would  shoot  him— that's  his  proper 
quarter — 
At  cannon  laws  he's  seon  the  fan, 
But  it's  odd  he  understands  the  mortar. 
Search,  See. 
My  handsome  face  prefarment  claims, 

And  then  our  queen's  a  judge  of  beauty; 
Besides  that,  she  always  says. 

To  honour  those  who  do  their  duty. 
Perhaps  in  the  Commons  house  I'll  sit, 

As  a  lady  rules  it  is  but  fair. 
For  sucli  a  place  I  know  I'm  fit. 
For  there's  plenty  of  ould  ladies  there. 

Search,  &c. 
And  Joey  you  may  fret  and  fume. 

About  that  which  nobody  axes 
Kilkenny  folks  they'll  find  out  soon. 

The  total  amount  of  tithes  and  takes. 
Sir  Andrew  Agnew— he  may  prate. 

And  say  no  work's  to  be  done  on  sunday 
The  clargy  they'll  find  that  a  trate 

For  they'll  have  no  meat  to  eat  on  Mon- 
day. Search,  &c 
Hasn't  Melbourne  got  the  knack, 
Of  coaxing  P  Doesn't  he  wish  the  Queen 
would  marry, 
But  like  an  ould  Broom,  he'll  get  the  sack. 

For  somebody  else  she  means  to  tarry, 
Then  Premier,  they  will  make  for  me, 

As  changing  places  all  the  trad«  is — 
Then  here's  'The  Queen!'  with  three  time« 
three, 
'  The  Duchess  of  Kent,  and  the  rest  of  the 
Ladies.' 


M.  A.  vHOPGES,  froml,  PITTS,  Printer,  Wholesale  Toy  Warehouse,  31  ley  Street,  Seven  Dis^, 


^ 


«[piaia  Q)2iiD 


O 


BELL. 

h  !  a  moarnful  sound  has  ibe  Old  Cliarcb  Bell, 
Tbat  swings  in  the  belfry  old  ;— 
H«w  many  a  sad  and  merry  knell 

Has  be  rung  from  his  turret  bold  . 
The  old  grey-beard,  and  the  peasant  boy 

Have  listenM  to  his  chime, 
/Ls  he  chang'd  his  note  from  death  to  joy, 

With  the  changing  hours  of  time  ; 
TuUing  on,  with  mournful  knell, 

A  warning  voice  has  the  Old  Charch  Bell. 

Ding  dung,  «c. 

OH '.  his  voice  is  clear  as  he  gaily  peals, 

On  a  happy  bridal  morn, 
But  It  mournfully  to  the  fun'ral  steals, 

Ere  the  fading  day  is  gone  ; 
Impanivil  he  makes  his  sumraous  ring, 

Unlike  th*»  courtier's  plan. 
For  he'll  wail  no  louder  the  death  of  a  Kmg, 

Than  he  woidd  of  a  poor  old  man ; — 
Tolling  on.  with  solemn  knell, 

A  inournful  sonnd  has  the  Old  Church  BeU. 

Ding,  doii^,  &o. 

He  has.  seen  iKesire,  and  has  seen  the  son 

To  the  %dlage  church  yard  bend  ; 
A:.d  the  deep  6un'd  wetcome  shall  still  ring  on, 

Till  time  hims  If  shall  i  nd. 
And  his  loud  uld  tongue,  like  a  lonely  bird, 

Chimes  with  a  sacrt'd  spell ; 
i  For  the  sweetest  music  earth  eVr  heard» 

Mu«t  yield  to  th.-  Old  Church  Bell. 
TfcUiog  on,  with  solema  knell,  ■  »  n 

A  ttiouroful  sound  hw  the  Pld  Cbijrch  BeU. 


n 


^ 


PADDl    OL¥Hfi\ 


^ 


C)  NE  Pad,!y  O'Ljnn  courted  Widdy  M'Kav, 
He  bold  as  a  luin,  sle  fresh  as  tlip  <'ay, 
Now  to  w  n  lier  ^<e  knt-w  li**  the  widdy  must  pleMo 
So  fce  Uinuyht  the  best  thing  be  otuld   do  wai  to 

tc'ize. 
Now  Paddy  be  aisv,  yon  der  1,  she'd  cry, 
And  uhc'd  smack  PaJd)'»  chopa  wh  le  she  looVM 

at  him  ^Iy. 
L;ive  ycu'-  Iricks  and  your  nonsense,  and  mind  your 

afF.irs, 
Through  y^'ur  t  ckling  I   know  I'll    be  tumbling 

.  jjp  stairs. 
Wy  honey,  nays  Paddy,  that  some  folks  do  say, 
Is  a  nign  that  you  ll  soon  ktiuvr  your  own  wedding 

And  its  pleascL^  that  T  am,  to  say  ao*-  no  sin, 
Since  'tis  all  for  jtood  luck,  says  Paddy  O'Lynn. 
Arral)  nuw,  s»\8  shf,  Pad-y,  don't  ih  nk  of  ihe  like 
For  I  didn't  say  n»  to  ycur  fat  cousin  Mike- 
The  Side  of  ra\  sho"  he  loves,  thouiili  itarn'i  whole. 
Says  Paddy  l*d  raflicr  love  you  than  your  soI*». 
Now  Paddy  1'!!  squeal,  and  lill  punch  your  fool's 

head, 
Sore  I"m   dreaming  each   night  I've  your  cousin 

instead. 
Says  Paddy    th<'t  same  1  am  g'ad  th»t  you  say, 
Fordram<a,  my  luv*',  ^o  quite  the  contr.try  way. 
So  widdy,  ket'p  draming  inat  fame  till  yon  die, 
When  you  diame  Mikes  in  bed,  why,  you'll  find 

it  is  I  ; 
And  it'*s  plased  that  I  am,  sure.  t«  say  »oi  no  «iin, 
For  'tis  all  for  good  luck,  says  «ly  Paddy  U'Lynn 

Arrah,  widdy,   my   darliat.   you've    pKigued    me 

enouuh. 
And  sure  then  'lis  time  that  you  left  off  «uch  stuff. 
For  your  sake  TVe  bi  en  fighting  and  br^eakiiig  aiy 

head, 
And  I  think  aftfr  that  fun  it's  lime  wc  were  w«d. 
Tkrn  Paddy,  like    m;;d,  threw   his  uruos  rauod  her 

waist, 
A_nd  his  lips  put  'o  H";rs,  of  theii  sweetness  to  las'e. 
And  he  peep'd  in  ler  eyes,  f«ilh,  lUai  shone  like  the 

mooij. 
And  be  hugg\l   her  swi-et  fo«m — (Paddy  wasn't  a 

spoon) — 
Now  Paddy  be  quiet-  to  tske  you  I'm  loth, 
Sure  Pvi*  now  had  two  iiubbuu^s  and  done  for  'e« 

both : 
«»n  have  me   for  the  third,  perhaps  this  time  I'll 

wiu, 
••hf  third  tint*  i-  d  ff'itn!,iays  Paddy  0*Ly»u 


M 
M 
t) 

n 
« 

K 

o 

M 
It 
II 
N 
N 

8 

M 
M 
M 
It 
II 

n 

M 
N 
M 

n 
» 
n 

M 

II 

M 
tt 
tl 
M 
M 
N 
tt 
N 
tl 

n 

M 
M 

8 
8 


MAID     OF     THE 
MILL 


ODGEs,  Printer,  (from  PIT  1  'S)  wholesale T.y 
warehouse,  31,  Dudley  Street,  Sevtn  Di*  s. 


I'VE  kiss'd  and  I've  prattled  with  fiity  fair  maids 

Aud  ehanged  them  as  oft  do  you  see. 
But  of  all  the  cay  lasses  thut  sport  on  the  greea. 
The  mad  •(the  mill  for  me. 
There's  fifty  young  men  have  told  me  fine  tales. 
And  cali'd  me  the  fairest  she. 

But  ot  all  the  yo«rg  men  that  danc'd  on  the  gre<n. 
Young  Hany'sthe  lad' for  me. 

Her  eyes  are  as  blaek  as  sloes  in  the  edge, 

Ht-r  cheeks  like  the  blossoms  of  May. 

Hrr  teeth  are  an  white  as  the  new  shorn  flock. 

Her  brea;h  Ike  the  new  mown  hay. 

He's  tail  and  he's  a! rait  as  the  poplar  tree. 

His  ct  eei<s  are  as  red  as  «:he  rose. 

He  look.H  like  acquire  of  high  degree. 

"VVtiao  dress'd  in  ll^  Sunday  clolhcs. 


f*^'  ROYAL 

^     BLACKBIRD 

\J  PON  a  fair  morning  for  soft  recreation 
I  beard  a  fair  lady  was  making:  her  moan, 
AVilh  sighing  and  sobbing-  and  sud  inmentation* 
Saying'  my  hlackbiid  most  royal  is  flown. 
My  thought*  they  deceive  me, 
Tleflectiuiis  do  j^rieve  nie. 
And  I  am  o*or  burthened  with  sad  misery. 
Yet  if  death  should  bhiid  me, 
As  true  love  inclines  me. 
My  blackbird  I'll  seek  out  wherever  he  he. 
Once  in  fair  England  my  blackbird  did  flourish, 

He  was  the  chief  blackbird  (hat  in  it  did  spring, 
Prime  ladies  uf  Honour  his  person  did  nourish, 
I       Because  he  was  the  true  son  of  a  king. 
'  Bu*  since  that  false  lurtune 

Wijich  itill  is  uncurtain. 
Has  caused  this  parting  b  4ween  him  and  me> 
His  name  I'll  advar.ca, 
la  Spain  and  in  France, 
And  lUseek  out  my  blackbird  wherever  he  be, 

Tlie  birds  of  t!ie  forest  all  met  tog-etlier. 

The  turtle  has  chosen  to  dwell  with  the  dove. 
And  I  am  resolved,  in  foul  or  fair  weather. 
Once  in  the  spring  to  seek  out  my  true  lovo. 

He*3  all  my  heart's  treasure. 

My  joy,  love,  and  pleasure, 
And  (justly  my  love)  my  heart  follows  thee^ 

Who  art  constant  and  kind. 

And  courageous  of  n»ind, 
All  bliss  to  my  blackbird  wherever  he  be. 

In  England  my  blackbird  and  I  were  together. 

Where  he  was  still  noble  and  generous  of  heart, 
Ah,  woe  lo  the  time  that  he  first  went  thither, 
Alas,  he  was  forced  from  thence  to  depart. 

la  Scotland  he's  deemed, 

And  highly  esteemed, 
In  England  he  seemeth  a  stranger  to  be  ^ 

Yet  his  fame  shall  remain. 

In  France  and  in  Spain, 
aU  bliss  to  my  blackbird  wherever  he  be. 

What  if  the  fowlpr  my  blackbird  has  taken,"^  _^. 

^      Then  sighing  and  sobbing  will  be  all  my  tane> 

But  if  he  is  safe  1  will  not  be  mistaken.  >gi 

And  hope  yet  to  see  him  in  May  or  in  Janet 

For  him  through  the  fire,  ^  "   ., 

Through  mud  and  through  mire,     ^ 

I  will  go  for  I  love  him  to  such  a  degreei 

Who  is  constant  and  kind,  -.^^ 


And  noble  in  mind,     n 
Deserving  all  blessings  wherever  be  be« 

1  lis  not  the  ocean  can  fright  me  with  danger, 
(:     Nor,  tho'  like  a  pilgrim  I  wander  forlornj 
Itoay  meet  with  friendship  of  one  that's  a  stranger 
Much  more  than  of  one  that  in  Britian  is  born. 
^r     I  pray  bsaven  so  spacious 

To  Britain  be  gracious. 
As  some  there  be  odious  to  both  him  and  me> 

Yet  joy  and  renown. 

And  laurel  shall  crown,  "'^^    '^^. 

'lackbird  with  honuur  wherever  ^e  bei 


IF  I  HAD  liLJT  A 

THOUSAND    A 
\E4R 

Hodges,  from  (I.  PITTS.)  Printer,  31, 
Dudley  Street,  late  Monmouth  Street 
Seven  Dials.  Where  may  be  had  a 
great  Variety  of  Old  and  New  Songs 
always  ready,  country  Orders  sent  to 
any  part  of  the  World. 

Oh>  if  I  had  but  a  thousand  a  year,Gaffer  Greea 

(But  I  never  shall  have  it,  I  fear,) 
What  a  man  would  I  be,  and  what  sights  I  would 

see. 
If  I  bad  but  a  thousand  a  year  Gaffer  Green, 

If  I  had  but^  thousand  a  year. 
The  best  wish  you   could  have  lake  my  wor4 

Robin  Ruff, 
Would  scarce  find  you  in  bread  or  in  beer—  ' 

But  bo  honest  and  true  and  say  what  you'd  do. 
If  you  had  but  a  thousand  a  year,  Robin  Ruff,-* 

If  you  bad  but,  &c.  j 

|«d  do  I  scarcely  know  what,  Gafier  Green-*     *-vL 

And  go  faith  1  hardly  know  where —  ^ 

I'd  scatter  the  jink,  and  leave  others  to  think. 

If  I  had  but  a  thousand  a  year  Gaffer  Green, 
Xf  1  had  but  a  thousand  a  year. 

But  when  you  are  aged  and  grey,  Robin  Ruffy 
And  the  day  of  your  death  it  draws  neer— • 

Say  what  with  your  pains  would  you  do  witj^ 
gains. 
If  yon  then  had  a  tbonsatti  a  year  Robin  Ruff,    , 

If  you  then,  &c.  .  ^ 

1  scarcely  can  tell  what  yon  mean,  Gaffer  QreeD| 

Your  questions  are  always  so  queer. 
But  as  other  folks  die,  I  suppose  so  must  I—.        ;. 

What  and  give  up  your  thousand  a  year  Robiri 
Ruff,        h.  / 

"What  and  give  up  your  thousand  a  year. 

There's  a  place  that  is  better  than  this,  Robiil 
Raff- 
And  I  hope  in  my  heart  you'll  go  there. 

Where  the  poor  man's  »s  great  though  he  ha(& 

i        no  estate,  ^ 

Aye  as  if  he'd  a  thousand  ft  year  Robla  BufiQ    ^^j.  ( 


f 


O  U  TH  E  CO  U  l{T •( ) F  A  PO  L  LO 


Bfl  A  l^llf      UABDlf  J^^►  (Spoken).  *  Up  cou'in,  up!  Tourh''a'n«!  iip,T  know 

IM  11  lu  W       U  ^t^f'  W  Jp^  Sh;ikspere.   '  Oh,  by  tbf  powers,  now,  'twas  np  ♦'» 

RETURNS  OF  THE 

DAY 


Printed  by  E.  HODGES,  (from  Pitt's)  wholesale 
Toy  s>nd  Marb'e  warehouse,  31  ,^•  ^  Street, 
Seven  Dials,  where  two  oi  three  new  Songs   are 

puH'ihhcd  pvery  week 

ERRY  words  merry  words,    ye  came  blast- 
ing around. 
Telling  all  thai  affection  can  say  : 
'Tii    tie  inns  c  uf  heart  chosds  that  dwells  in  the 

*  Many  t  appy  returns  of  the  day.'  [sound 

Tie  red  clieek  of  the  child  is  more  rich  in  i's  glow, 
Aiid  the  bright  eye  more  swift  in  its  ray, 

Whin  his  mates  hail  his  birth  in  their  holiday 
AJid  drink  *  Happy  returns  of  the  day.'   [mitth. 

But  if  midfct  the  greetings  there's  one  that  vie  miss 
And  that  one  was  the  dearest  of  all  : 

'Tis  then  «e  feel  lone  in  a  moment  lii%e  tlii-*, 

• ,  When  onr  loudly  hailed  birth'day  shiU  fall. 

What  would  we  not  give  if  the  hour  cou  d  restore, 

The  di  ar  form  that  is  far,  far  away, 
If  the  vaice  of  that  L  ved  one  conid  uish  us  once 

*  Many  happy  returns  of  tie  da\/  [more, 

If  tl  e  voice  of   tliat  h  vrd  one  coi  Id  wish  us  onca 

*  Many  happy  returns  of  ihe  d  »\,^  [more. 
Thf  old   man  may  smiie  wbi'e  he  listens  and  feels, 

He  hath  Hi  tie  time  longer  to  stay. 

8'ill  he  loveth  to  h  ar  from  the  lips  that  are  dear 

'♦  Many  l)appy  rv  turns  of  the  day  :' 
Thf  Tl  a  garland,  a  bumper,  a  dance,  jind  a  feast. 

Let  the  natal  tide  come  when  it  may. 

Be  it  autumn  or  spring,  a  gay  chorus  we'll  oing, 

*  Many  happy  n  turns  of  ihe  day. 
Be  it  autumn  or  spring,  a  gay  chorus  \?e'll  sing 
",  «  Many  happy  returns  uf  the  day.* 

THE   STAGE   STRUCK   BARBER,   OR 
.      THE  COURT  OF   APOLLO. 

';h  O  the  Musis  Dramatic  I'm  akin, 

For  my  ship  is  their  ov.'n  Panorama, 
Aid  w  th  song  I  inspire  every  customer's  chin, 

8  I  drop  him  the  scra-is  <  f  the  Drama, 
Ail  my  soitp  I  p€rrume  from  Parnassus's  mnunt, 

W  th  sucij  sweet  as  my  cus'ome.'s  swallow 
And  my  i  Kush,  toii,  I  dip  iu  Cn&talia's  fount, 
v»  h.lc  I  shave  in  the  Court  of  Apollo. 


^  my  month  all  th«'  time.  But  what  have;  1  «ot  to  pav;* 
^*  Three  thiusand  dncais!' '  Shiver  mi  n'ml-ers  yo'i 
^,  are  mad  N.N.  W.  hut  whm  the  wind  U  southerlv, 
J5!:  I  know  a  hawk  fom  a  ha-  dsaw,.*  'Yes  fiie  id,  but 
J5  I  Ciiniiott  dl  my  razor  from  ahardsaw,for  it  surr  Iv 
3^  nv  verb  the  flesh,'  *  Avaunt,  thy  blo^d  is  cold!'  Ah 
S^  vcl  it  m  ly  be  I  vish  I  may  tmce  get  out  of  this 
^slauahtei  house.  «  Slanghterhouse  I  Off  with  Lia 
^  head  !  Why  this  is  the 

^  Temple  o'  the  Muses — walk  in  who  chooses, 

^      And  a'il  lakey.  ur^  turns  as  they  follow. 

^  There  are  no  excises  for  him  who  refuses 

^      To  shivp  in  the  Court  of  Apolh». 

^  Both  the  Buskin  and  Sock  'tis  my  interest  to  plr as3 

^       And  to  dress  in  the  fir-t  of  the  f 'shion  : 

SS  Should  a  cut  from  the  razor,or  old  Shakspere  tease 

^       W  hy  I  tip 'em  an  Ode  on  the  Passions. 

^  Thus  is  teasing  made  easy,  &  smoothly  goes  down, 

^      With  the  oil  of  oramatic  quotation  : 

^  And  an  at  tor  »f  all  work  cut  out  for  the  town,        , 

^      I  thus  live  by  the  town's  approbation. 

^  (Spoken).  There  !    Your  chin  new  rraped  she  v« 

^like  stubble  land  at    harvest    home:  i>hak«prrt', 

^  '  Oh,  dam  Si  aks^lere.'  '  Had  I  three  ears  I'd  heir 

:gj  thee'   I'm  sure  you  must  have  de  tree  ears.for  you 

g  have  got  one  «'f  m.ne    *  Give  ev«ry  man  thine  ear. 

^  but  few  thy  voice    *  Shake  not   thy  gory  locks     t 

S  mt- !  Htre's  some  pomatum  will  make  *  each  p-.irti- 

^  cnlar  hair  stand  on  end,  like  quil-  upon  ihe  fretful 

<^  [)f'rcupine !'     '  Blesbmu     shonl !    1   must   surely 

^  have  got  into    Bedl mi,'    Bedlam  !  t  Oii,  Jtptha, 

•^  judge  of  Israel !'  whv  this  is  the 

^  '     Temple  of  the  Musei»,  &, 

^  Thus  I  try  how  to  rival  the  Roscious^at  home 

^       And  each  oCtor  claim  as  a  crony  : 

^  Just  as  cha  acters  come  wiihin  swmg  of  my  comb, 

^      I  fill  up  my  Dramatis  pcrsorae. 

^    V  h'-n  I  have  a  thin  housu  from  the  'Tragical  M  id' 

SS      A  visage  1  draw  full  of  sorrow, 

^  VVhen  the  wh^le  is  farce  for  my  be;ufit  played, 

<^      A  small smilo  fmm  Thdlia  1  borrow, 

^  Yes  *  1  can  smile,  and  murder  while  I  smile  !' 
^  '  The  devil  you  cm  ?  then  pray  let  me  go,'  '  Nay, 
^  sit,  good  cou- n  Hotspur,  Art  thou  m  t  aslamed  to 
^  look  upon  this b -aid  r'  •  Pon  honor,  I've  sat  h<  re  so 
^  long,  tl.at  I  sha'l  soon  go  to  sleep.'  *  I  o  slrep — per- 
^  chance  to  dream  Aye  then-'s  the  rub  !' '  Id  tlank 
5g  you  not  to  rub  so  nni<  h  of  \our  df-mned  sM-.-p  dt)wri 
J£g  my  throat.'  *  Thin  (  pen  thy  p' ndr(  us  jaw  s,  and 
4^  cast  it  up  again.'  *  Ponderous  jaws  !  Vhe  e*s  the 
^  glass.^  '  *  Shine  out  fair  sun,  till  I  cm  buy  a  gi*  ss,* 
Sil^ »  Well,  dong  me  if  I  did  not  think  for  ^a;tin  <  wur 
S  in  a  bail  er's  slop.'  'Shop!  Oh  ha  eful  error: 
SS?  melancholy's  chid!  There  is  no  speculaMon  in  those 
32^  eyes  teat  ihou  dobt  glare  with;'  f  »r  It  is  is  the 

Temple  of  the  Musts, .  c. 


i]S  PET 


ORi  NEVER  THROW  A  CHANCE  AWAY 

I'm  the  latl'es  pet;  I'm  tlie  'adies  p;  t, 
And  after  me  the\  cry  a  id  fr- 1, 
Tliey  love  nie  as  tli«*y  love  ih  ir  life, 
Each  wiah''s  to  be  my  lovmg  wife; 
Sj  lie  aaJ  flat  er  of  course  I  can, 
'  I  is  tliut  make's  me  the  lad  es  man* 
I've  p'om's'd  «iarii.  ge  many  time*, 
And  heard  the  merry  wedding  ch>mes« 
JBut  never  kept  my  promise  yet. 
Though  I'm  call'd  the  ladies  peU 

Fal  lal,  tie, 

1,  to  (he  ladies  attention  pay, 
&►  allow  me  a  few  <  f  tlieir  names  to  say  : 
ThnAs  Mara  and  fair  Isab  I, 
Miiry  Hart  a  id  graceful  Nell, 
Ktsbecca  Sturdy  and  Dinah  Tare, 
&/fd  th  •  hand  oine  barnia  d  Elie n  D  ire  ;_ 
Susan  Hunt  iind  the;  la'l  Miss  Green, 
And  to  my  ist  I'll  add    h    Qiein, 
'Vt  catuli  tiie  all    he  r  c  .p>  ii.ive  s  t, 
For  I  um  qiite  the  ladicB  [nt 

Fa!  lal,  c\o. 
The  present".  I  rect^ve  eacn  d  y, 
l^orves  to  pass  the  \ixm  away, 
Sonirtitnt'S  jesvels  sorieeimes  'ings, 
.    An  I  other  splendid  lo^ki  g  t!  it)gs, 
Horses  and  dogs  of  every  kind. 
They  send  to  pleastj  my  noble  mind 
Lettrs  and  some  imes  canis, 
!f  or  masqueiacles  and  pr-meu.idjs,     , 
Though  answers  they  but  sel  lom  gst, 
It  shows  how  they  lo\e  the  l;di -.s  })et. 

Fal  lal,  Ac. 

At  the  Queei's  grand bdl  I  look  my  plate, 
M^hen  thev  quickly  fnund  out  my  face. 
My  dancing  all  del  glit>  d  theie,  " 

The  Italian  dancers  jealous  wer*^— 
The  ladies  sm  les  were  v«  ry  sweet. 
Each  smile  with  joy  I  did  rejiet;  j 

1  polilt  ly  bowed  to  all  aroutjo. 
The  Queen  slie  curtsied  to  the  ground, 
And  every  eye  was  on  me  sel. 
To  win  a  smile  frem  the  la-  is  pet 

F4  la ,  &c. 
60  maids  and  widows  hear  ms  pray, 
And  njvei*  throw  a  chunca  away, 
And  never  look  at  size  o.  raai^e, 
Or  you  may  leave  your  joy  at  stake  ; 
But  try  the  lad  thalyi.u  l<jve  least, 
Aud  trus   to  fortune  for  the  rist. 
For  1  can  on  y  many  once, 
Or  else  I  am  a  silly  dunce, 
A  I  usbaud  get  and  n^  ver  f^vt 
Sul  cume  und  see  ibe  ladies  v^i, 

Fal  lal,  ke 


EODQBS,  PriEter,    (ftrom  PITTS)  wkekialt  Toy  -vVarchouso, aj 


GAY  CAVALI' 


IT  was  a  beaut  ful  ii,'hf, 
And  the  sari  slione  bri-ht. 

And  the  bio  an  on  the  waters  p'ayed, 
Wnen  a  gay  cavahei. 
At  a  bower  drew  near, 
A  lady  to  serenade 

To  tender e>t  words  he  swept  the  chords. 
While  many  a  sigh  br,  athed  lie, 
Aud  o'er  and  o'er  he  fondly  swore, 
Sweet  maid  1  love  but  thee 
Sweet  maid,  swe^t  maid,  I  Iotc  but  thee. 
He  raised  h:s  ey*  s 
To  the  lattice  hioh. 

While  he  foadly  breathed  his  liope», 
With  amnzement  he  sees 
Swing  abaut  by  t'ie  br  eze, 

Already  a  ladder  of  rope^j. 
Up,  up,  he  is  gone, 
The  bird  is  fl  >wo, 

what  is  tliis  on  the  ground,  quoth  he. 
It  is  plain  that  sho  lovfs, 
Heie's  some  g.-ntleman's  g'oves. 
And  they  never  b  lorjged  to  me, 
The.e  gloves,  tii^se  gloves,  they  never  be* 
longed  to  me. 

You  ail  Would  have  thought 
He  would  have  f.;Ilo>ve  1  and  fought 
That  be.n^  t  le  dueling  a^e, 
But  tliis  gay  cava  ic, 
Quite  scorned  th^  idea, 
Of  putting  himself  i;j  a  ragd. 
More  w  se  by  far. 
He  put  up  bis  guifar. 
And  as  hom  w  n  d  he  went  sung  he, 
when  a  lady  elopes 
Down  a  ladder  of  rop  «, 
She  may  go  to  Nong  Kong  for  m« 
Sue  may  go,  she  may  go    ehe  «ia 
Hong  Kong  for  i»e* 

Street  7  JDia 


ETWEE 


STASPmihlSiS^r  i2?ilI?^(Da?^iai7^J?i7 


\ 


E.  Hodges,  fioin  Pitts,  Wliol*»sale  Toy  and  | 
>      31  arble  Warehouse,   31,  bireet,     1 

i  Seven    Dials*  1 


Vv'ith  this  splendid  lot  of  toggery  we  strutted  waU 
about,  yout. 

We  never  stopped  at  home  together,  seldom  both  went 

Our  neighbours  took  much  notice,  and  the  notioa 
them  would  strike,  (dress  .Jike. 

These  young  men  must  be  brothers,  for  they  al way* 

For  where,  &c 


"ST"  ATHLEEN  Mavourneen,  the  grey  dawn  is 
-"^     breaking, 

The  horn  of  the  hunter  is  heard  on  the  hill. 

The  lark  from  her  light  wing  the  bright  dew  is 

shaking — 

Kathleen  iVIavourneen,  what  slumbering  still  ?  ^^ 

Oh, hast  thou  forgotten  how  soon  we  must  sever?  ^ 

Oh,  hast  thou  forgotten  this  day  we  must  part  ?  M 

It  may  be  for  years,  and  it  may  be  for  ever,  t^ 

Oh,  why  art  thou  silent,thou  voice  of  my  heart  ?  Tt 

Kathleen  Mavourneeu,  awake  from  thy  slumbers,  if 

^.    The  blue  mountains  glow  in  the  sun's  golden  W 

!ight,  W 

.  Ah !  where  is  the  sptll  that  once  hung  on  thy  || 

numbers  ?  ^ 

Arise  in  ttiy  beauty,  thou  star  of  my  night  ?  || 

'  Mavourneen,    Mavourneen,    my    sad     .ears   are  f| 

V  falling,  H 

To  think  that  from  Eiin  ana  thee  I  m^isl  part,  n 

/      It  ni2y  be  for  y^^ars,  and  it  may  be  for  ever,  ^ 

''^hen  why  u»  i  thou  hilent,thou  voice  of  my  heart  ?  f^ 

^  A  LL  ycu  who  are  reduced  and  wish  to  cut  a  shine,  w 
^•^■-     Come  listen  for  awhile  to  some  funny  sprees  of  ?l 

mine ;  f| 

f  Advice  such  as  this  he's  a  fool  who  spurns,  H 

ji'S«  rn  let  you  know  how  Jack  and  I  were  gentlemen  |;| 

in  turns.  H 

CHORUS.  H 

,  For  where  there's  a  will  yoti'll  find  there  always  is  M 

(pay.     n 

)erience  and  you've  nothing  got  to  a| 


We  looked  twice  at  once.  I'm  certain  as  we  walked 
At  night  through  the  streets,  as  we  swaggert^  and  we 

talked, 
We  puffed  our  Havannahs,  nor  cared  for  any  chaff, 
'Cause  we  bought  a  penny  Cuba  and  cut  it  fair  in  half. 

For  where,  &c. 


Onee  Jack  had  a  sovereign,  and  as  onward  we  would 
range,  (change. 

He  would  often  pall  it  out  and  beg  of  me  to  give  him 

Then  he'd  pass  it  on  the  sly  to  me,  but  not  in  people'* 
view,  (you* 

So  I'd  say  to  hira,  just  showing  it,  I  w  anted  change  of 

For  where,  &c. 

\ 

When  we  wanted  for  the  mopusses,  we  cadged  theii 
on  the  sly,  (try. 

Jack  vvould  tu;  n  shipwreck'd  sailor,  l'"d  bv  gging  letters 

1  used  to  put  the  trousers,  coati  and  waistcoat  on» 
because,  'drawers. 

Jack  could  come  the  sai.or  dodge,  with  only  shirt  and 

For  where,  &e. 


At  two  different  places  lived  two  ladies  prime. 
But,  as  only  one  of  us  could  do  the  lover  at  a  time, 
I  laid  down  in  a  lield  and  slept,  while  Jack   used   the 

cicthes,  (mine  I  goes. 

And  when  he  comes  back,  I  pops  th<-m  on,  and  off  ta 
•  '  Fur  where,  &c. 


y  a  way 

So  learn 


ifcWe  had  one  suit  of  clothes,  but  we  always  made  it  do,  ^ 

,jFor  on  Sunday  we  alternately  made  it  suit  for  two.      fl 

,  #ack  bad  lodgings,  I  had  none,  but  it  often  was  the  || 

'     '       case,  (his  place.       ^ 

When  Jack  turned  out  at  daylight,  why  I  turned  in  H 

For  where,  &c.       ^ 

!  Wlien  we  bad  aeoat  apiece,  we  itivet»ted  many  moves,  aa 
One  of  which  was  a  plan   ft.ir  both,  to  wear  one  pair  of  ^ 

gloves ,  (hid  from  view,      vL 

As  we  walked  arm-in-arm  like  ilris,  two  hands  were  ^ 
Aud  we  looked  a>  though  we'd    four    j^iives,  when,  in  ^ 

fact  we'd  only  two  For  where.  Ud      W 


As  the  ladies  were  both  rich,  and  kept  up  appearance 
flash,  (dash. 

Of  course   we  in    our  turns;  were  compelled  to  cut  a 

So  at  my  ladies'  mansion  when  I  could'nt  show  my 
phiz,  (his. 

Jack  look  letters  as  my  footman,  next  day  I  went  u 

For  where,  &c« 


Thus  scheming  is  the  grand  secret  of  living  in   thil" 
life,  [wife.     | 

And  by  scheming  we  contrived  each  to  get  a  wealthy 

Unlike  your  selfish  lawyers,  more  friendly  still   we 
grew,  [suit  between  two.     ' 

Hand-in  glove  we  worked  Uie  artful  dodge,  with  one 

For  where,  &o 


WORKHOUSE  GIRL 


A  LIFE  ON  THE 

OCEAN   WAVE 


g  E.  Hodges,  from  PitU  Wholesale  Toy  and 
^     Marble  Warehouse^  ^irect^ 

^  Seven    -^     . 

A    LIFE  on  the  ocean  wave, 

A  home  on  the  rolling  deep. 
Where  the  scattered  waves  rave, 
'     And  the  winds  their  revels  keep. 
,  Like  an  eas^jle  caged  I  pine 
"     On  this  dull  unchanging  shore  : 
xjh  !  give  me  the  flashing  brine, 
The  spray  and  the  tempest's  roar. 

■     A  life,  &c. 

Once  more  on  the  deck  1  stand, 
Of  my  own  swift  gliding"  craft, 
'  And  bid  farewell  to  the  land  ; 
'     The  gale  follows  far'  abaft. 
W\}  shoot  through  the  sparkling  ibam, 
-^i     Like  an  ocean-bird  set  free ; 
/"Like  the  ocean-bird,  our  home 
We  find  far  out  on  the  sea. 

A  life,  &c. 

The  land  is  no  longer  in  view, 

The  clouds  have  begun  to  frown  ; 
JBiit  with  a  stoHt  '/^Rsel  and  crew, 

We'll  say,  let  the  storm  come  down 
And  the  song  of  our  hearts  shall  be, 
While  the  winds  and  waters  rave, 
r  A  life  on  the  heaving  sea, 
4^.-^.^  home  on  the  suf  ging  wave. 

&c. 


The  werry  next  daj,  at  the  time  they  all  feed, 
Ven  I  thinks  on  the  brutes,  mj  heart's  fit  to  bleel 
The  poor  ereiur  corae  viih  the  rest  to  he  fed 
Ven  a  dollop  of  sowp  rith  tattrs  and  bread, 
Vos  shoved  in  her  fist,  all  sviraming  vith  t;it. 
And  missus  she  told  her  to  grub  upon  ihat. 
As  soon  as  she  saw  it,  says  she  I  discover 
This  soup  has  ^'"'""  "'"ditiimfeftiiir  tht  hviifi   of  my« 
brotiier.  Oh,  tlie  poor,  6c 


The  old  voman  fiew  in  a  rage  so  hot. 
And  SYore  she  vouid  murder  the  gal  on  the  spot. 
So  the  poor  cretur  then  in  a  terrible  plight, 
BoUed  avay  viih  all  her  niighl. 
Avay  she  venl  vKhout  bonnet  or  shawl. 
She  cut  dowH  the  yard  and  g\/t  over  the  vail. 
And  cot  von  pauper  there,  child    voman,  or  mai?. 
For  the  starving  poor  cretur  cared  one  tinker's  d — • 

Oh,  the  poor,  &c. 


Now  a  month  pass'd  on,  no  gn\  vas  found, 
Says  an  old  cook  pauper,  '  no  doubt  she's  diowned, 
Unless  some  kind  cove  out  of  chari.ty, 
tlas  given  her  arsenic.'  says  hew 
But  oh,  he  vas  wrong,  for  tbe  wery  same  night 
A  knock  at  the.  door  put  them  all  in  a  fri^.;ht, 
And  ven  it  vas  opened,  there  stood,  oh  lud, 
Ths  poor  starving  cretur  all  vailowed  in  mud. 

Oh,  the  poor,  &c. 


Her  cheeks  vas  hollow  and  sunk  her  eyes. 
Her  belly  stock  ont  sucii  a  monstrous  sifie, 
Most  awful  her  look,  disbeveUe(4'her  hair, 
And  all  her  poor  body  vas  bleeding  and  bare. 
And  as  the  poor  gal  along-  the  hall  valke<l; 
She  seemed  as  if  from  the  g^rave  she  had  stalked* 
Ven  I  think  on  the  scene,  quite  sick  my  heart  turnr 
_T^qu  must   know  the  poor  crttur  vos  troubled  vitl» 
"  voriSfsT  -QikiilLPoo*"*  ^^' 


WOIJKHOUSE  GIRLJ 

'OU  ax  me  to  sing,  so  of  course  I  shall,  j 

V\\  sing  you  the  fate  of  the  poor  vorkus  gal_,  ] 
Who  twin-sister  vos  to  the  ill-fated  child,  j 

Who  in  the  soup-kettle  you  know  vos  biled.  \ 

From  the  lime  she  heard  of  her  brother's  decease,  f 
The  poor  cretur  know'd  not  one  moment  of  peace,  { 
But  vent  out  of  her  mind,  and  then  ravM  Sc  swore,  | 
Not  voQce  in  her  life  vould  she  gollop  soup  more.  | 
'     ,  Oh,  the  poo/  vorkus  ^al,  &c.      | 


They  sent  for  a  doctor,  they  sent  for  a  nuss, 
But  ven  they  both  corned  the  poor  cretur  v<»s  vuss 
They  guvcd  her  some  gruel,  they  {allowed  her  noso 
But  werry  soon  arter  she  turned  up  her  toes. 
Now  all  the  parishioners  flowed  in  a  pel, 
And  svorc  that  a  Coroner's  inqnest  should  set  ;   & 
Ven  the  Coroner  corned,  but  the  wery  next  day. 
The  vorms  viih  the  body  had  crawled  avay. 

Oh,  the  poor,  &c. 


*v^<^ 


illO'DGliS,  Printer,  (tioni  t!i^  late  I    PnTS'^Whcl' - 
sale   Toy  VVareliousc,  S! ,  l)u  ll'-v  Strtti,  /  JJia'.s, 


CrT.  Patrick  wns  a  geuil  man  and  lie  came  'ro  ii  '"<»  vr  j 
"^  people ; 

In  Dublin  town  lie  'mill  m  chiin-li  and  on  u  puta  steep'e 
His  father  was  a  W  .il;it,'in,  his  mother  an  U'Grad   • 
His  aunt  she  was  a  Kiaa^lian,  auu   his  wife  a   widow 
Biady, 

TooreiUoo,  tooralioQ,  what  a  glorious  man  our  «aint 

was, 
Tooralloo,  tooralloo,  O  whack  falderal  li  do. 

TCo  wonder  that  we  Irish  lads  thjn  are  so  blythe  and 
frisky,  ('(^whiskey 

St.  Patrick  was  the  very  man  thrft  taught  us  to  drink 

Oh  to  be  sure  he. had  the  kiuck  'Bad  understood  dis- 
tilhng,  (Kniiiskiilen 

For  hii-iiwtherkjB^jt  a  shebeen  sl,o;>  near   the   town  of 

Tooralloo,  Sfc. 

Och  Antrim  hills  are  mighty  hij^h  and  so's  tne  hill  of 

Howtii  too  ;  f  t)Oth  too 

[But  all  do  know  a  mountain  that  is  higher  tJian   them 

^i-'Twas    on  the  top  of  that  high  moutjt   St.   Patrick 

preached  a  Sermon.  (vermin 

5le  drove  the  iro^^s  into  the  bogs  and  banish'd   all  the 

Tooralloo,  S(c. 

There  is  not  a  mile  in  Ireland's  Isle  where  the  dirty 
vermin  luuster,  (in  clusters 

Tf  St.  Patrick  put  his  dear  fore  foot  he  murders  them 

Tha  Irogs  did  hop,  the  toads  went  wap,  for  fear  into 
water,  (from  slauijhter 

All  th^  beasts  committed  suicide  to  save  themselves 

TooraJioo,  ^c. 

Irmce  Hohenloho  he  would  go  mad.to  hear  of  Paddy's 
gammon,  (^across  the  Shannon 

When  he  clapp'd  his  head  in  i^  his  month  and  sw.^in 

And  as  for  ma-king  dumb  folks  gpeak,  to  be  sure  he 
had  the  carny,  {'\A^ri%ex 

for  St,  P.tirick  \va*  liie  vtry  ma-a  that  .first  jov^ute^i 


I 


oido 

otp)a 

cfco 


C<JJ«3 

c>pvj 

ocSfa 


C«0/3 


c«0)o 


BEAR  WOMAW'S  THE  JOY 

OF  AN 

I^nglishmarfs  Life. 

r^OMli  all  young  men  and  young  maidens  all 

roun.l, 
ril  tell  you  where  pleasure's  are  all  to  be  found, 
'Tis  woiuan,  de  ir  woman,  her  praise  1  wdl  sing. 
For  they  to  a  man  every  comfort  do  brin;j. 
A  man  ih.it  is  'married  his  home  is  bis  pride, 
He  sits  at  liis  ease  by  his  own  tire-side, 
While  others  that's  sin2:le  may  ramble  all  dary, 
And  whea  they  go  home  no  such  pleasures  Jutve 

they. 
A  man  that  is  married,  may  rise  in  the  morn, 
And  all  things  are  ready,  v/hen  he  does  return  >j 
A  man  that  is  single,  the  truth  i  will  say. 
Is  just  like  a  tree  with  each  branch  cut  away, 
1-or  when  out  upon  pleasure  he  mopes  like  a  goose 
He  seems  like  a  poor  tool  that  is  of  «o  use, 
There's  somethinij:  that's  wanting  &.  that's  a  good 
For  woman'slhejoy  of  an  Englishman's  life,  (wife 
'j'he  man  that  is  married,  his  pipe  smokes  sit  home 
While  ithose  that  are  single,  to  ale-houses  roam,, 
He  calls  for  strong  liquor  his  mind  tor  to  ease, 
Perhaps  he  ninv  say,  Ive  no  wife  for  to  pltase. 
But  when  with  the  landlord   he  has  spent  all  his 
'ihe  landlonl  will, rudely  shew  him  the  door  (store 
Then  roMm^-  for  honieward."i  he  meets  with  some 

sfetriSft, 
Dear  wouiairs  the  joy  of  an  Englishman's  life. 
The  man  that  is  married,  if  happy  would  De, 
Should  do  well  his  duty  in  every  decree, 
Btii  one  iliiui,'  no  pleasines  you  ever  can  find, 
When  once  that  curst  jealousy  enters  your  nund 
ff  quarrels  arise  wtuch  sometimes  they  will,    (still 
Why  let  her  keep  talking,  but  hold  your  tongue 
I'or  words  are  but  wiijd,she  may  make  a  good  wife 
Dear  woman's  the  joy  ot  an  Englisimian's  life. 

And  if  on  a  Sunday  you  chance  to  go  outj, 
'I  0  keep  tlie  child  decent  you  qa^ ry  a  (CJlowt, 
And  never  inmd  trifles,  but  do  all  you  can. 
To  gain  the  blest  na.iie  of  a  goodrtempered  mao 
For  woman  you  know  is  tjie  weakest,  and  so 
Ne'er  run  from  your  bargain  whatever  you  do, 
*Tis  seldotu  a  woman  will  oau&e  the  first  strife, 
Dear  «'omdu's  the  joy  of  Mn  Englishman's  liie. 
If  home  you  go  tipsy,  aad  at  h.er  do  bawl, 
*  fwiU  luyike  her  u.uh^ppy.no  wonder  at  all, 
And  think  tJiat  a  woman  is  right  for  to  speak. 
Sue  knows  that  tbe  fer^ead  must  go  short  in  the 

week. 
But  early  next  morning  there's  toast  and  the  tea 
'i  (>  make  a  man  happy  in  every  degree 
^V'hi.e  those  that  are  single  may  lay  down  and  die 
His  heart  ache?  t^irp*  driu]^^j?ifld  rq  wife  toconje 

nigh- 
So   still  'tis  dear  woman  her  praises  I'll  sing, 
A  luan  with  ,a  lu)Uie,  can  appear  like  a  kiii^^, 
1  or  'lis  uot  riches  wlicre  pleasures  iue  lound, 
Dear  woman's  a.slar  upoa  Old  England's  ground. 
■)  ake  warning  each  crusty  old  maid  if  you  tan. 
\  ou'lltiiid  tlmt  a  woinari  is  bkst  v\ith  a  num. 
A  id  yi-uiig  men  lori^oodnexs  pray  splice  to  a  s«    ■■•■ 

:  ear  wo... ail  a  ihf  jnv  uf  aU  En^l  ,thlT.aJ?  lf*V., 


ove 


MEDS.EY 

E      liodj;rs,  froml'it  s,  \v  holo^ale  I'oy  & 
Ma-.ble,  War>-h;>u:ii-,  oi,  ._^        /-st, 
(late  Moumo'ith  s;oel.)  Steven  Dials. 

OF    ail  the  girls  that  are  so  smart  there 

none  iii<e  psetty  i^allv% 
She   is     the  darling    of  my   heart,  and  she 

I'ivvs  by  the  scouring  of  pots. 
In   the    bay    of    biscay  O  -  Now    she   sail 

^^itii  Ihe  gale. 
From     the  to\Mi  of   neat  clogeea   Serjeant 

©       Knapp   iiiv  paddy  carey, 
ix    cleaner  boy    wab^  never  seen  brisk  as  a 

bee  pr  oilers  iioaey  but  bear,s  a  sling-, 
JBui  he  caauo.i.ly    said  if  you  are  crossed  in 

Love  and  w  jjl  I  bear  the  fair  lady  afar 
My  sword  jind  uiy  service  are  yours  to  prove 

but  the  i a  iy  she  played" 
The   Devil  of  comlort  is  there  on  a  washing 
day  for  Uie  vyry  kittens  on  the  hearth  they 
dare  not  even   play   away,  they  jump  with 

many  a  thump 
Over    the  moiintains    and  over   the    moor 
Hungry  and  barefoot  1  wander  for!.>rn,  my 
Father's  dea,d   and  my  mother  is  poor  and 

she  grieves  for  the  days 
That  we  went  a  gipsying  a  long  time  ago 

the  days  we  went  gipsyin:^  a  • 
Long  time  I've  courted  you  miss  and  now  i 
am  come  from  sea  I'll  make  no  moj  e  ado 
Miss  but  quiclily  marry  a  rum  old  romnio- 
dore  gouty  old  commodore  rum  old  commo- 
dore tor  the  bullets  and  the  gout  have  so 
knocked   his   head  about    that  he'l    never 

inore   be  tit  fjr 
Sea  the  sea  the  open  sea  oh  Iiovv  i  love  to 
Strike  strike  ilk3  light  guilar 
before  our  most 
'     Koble  Queen     god  save  the   queen 
Send    her    victorious  happy   and  gloriouj 
Long  foreign  over  us  God  sare  the  Queen. 


n 


i 

i 


Lord    Love!    be  stood    at   iiis  caslla  Rafe, 

Combing-  his    milk   white  steed, 

When   up   came  lady    Nancy    Bell, 

To    wish   her   luvtr  good  speed   speed,   speed, 

Wishitig'  her  lover   good   speed, 

Where  are  you    g'>in«-.    Lord    Love!  she   said, 

()l),    where   are  you   going,   said  she, 

I'm    going   my  lady    Nancy    Bfll, 

Slriinge   countries  for  to  see,   see.    &c. 

When  will  you  be   back,    Lord    Lovel,  she  said. 

Oh,    when    will  you    come    back,  said    she 

In  a  year   or  two  —  or   thn-e.  sit  most, 

I  .M    rr»tutn    to   my  fair  NuHcy-cy-cy    &c. 

Bsst    he  had  not  been  goti<!    a  year  and  a  <inf, 

S'ningo  countries  for  to  see, 

Wiijiii  langiiishiug   thoughts    carae  into  his    lj:\i» 

Lady   Noucy  Bell  he  would  go  see,  see,  seo   $C4»/. 

So    he  rode   and  iie    rode    on  his  milk  wbito     hnr 

Till    he  came   to   London    town, 

And   there   he    heard   st.    Pancras's   bells, 

Anii   the  people  all   mourning   round,  round, 

O'n,    what   is    the    matter.   Lord    Lovel   he   saidj. 

Oh    what   is   the  matter,  said   he, 

A    Lord's  Lady    is  dead  the   woman   replied 

And  some    call   her  lady   Nancy-cy-cy-,  5cc. 

So    he  ordered    the   gr.ave    tc    be   opened    wufo^. 

And  the  shroud    to    be  turned  down, 

And  there  be  kissed   her  -clay-cold  lips. 

Till   the    tears   came  trickling   down,    dowij,       . 

Lady    Nancy   she   died  as  it    might  %b  tc-dayj 

Lord   Lovel  be   died   as  to  morrow, 

Lrjdy   Narcy    she  died   out  of  pure,   pure,  griel, 

T^jid    Lovel    hs  died   out  of  sorrow,   Sorrusv.   ^, 

Lady   N.incy   was  laid   in  st.  Pancras's   ebnrcf 

L<  ri   Lo\rl    N^as   laid   iu  Ihe   cl.oir, 

Ami    out   of  her  bosom   tlitro  grew  a  Ked  r»s9 

And   out   of  hor   lu\erV  a   briar- riar-riar, 

It   grew,  a;;d    it  grew,   to   the  church  sleopU^    t 

And   then   it   could  grow    no  higher. 

So   there   entwined  in    a    trne    Lv«j»'s   Lnoli. 

Fvr'di  loTcrs   truj  V5  swlaairc -ir^jr  -  licr,  &i^  1 


CAPTAIN  COULSTON'8  VOYAGE  TO  AMEKIOA. 


You  inhabitanta  of  Ireland,  ye  hero's  stouf,  &  brave, 
Tliat  do  intetiil  to  cross  the  seas,  your  country  for  to 

leave, 
CitiTiejoin  with  Captain  Ooulsion  that  herostout  &  UAd 
WIjo  lougiit  liis  way  upuD  the  sea  and  never  w^s  con- 
trolled. 

From  the  1  Ith  to  the  20th  we  sail'd  upon  ihe  sea, 
Ten  long  dayrf  in  pleasure,  bound  for  America, 
The  captain  &  his  lady  both  Ciime  on  deck  each  day. 
Aii  for  lo  crown  our  niernment  while  sailing  on  the  sea 

The  weather  was  as  cliarming  as  e\r  you  saw  hefbr>. 
For  six  days  of  pleasure  we  ne'er  thought  f)n«shore. 
\\  e  saird  away  from  Liverpool  tlie  weather  il  was  fine 
All  bound  Tor  Philedelphia,  it  was  our  whole  design. 

The  number  of  our  passengers  were  3i>JJ, 
Tiiey  were  all  teetotalers  exc  pting  one  or  two, 
We  pushed  along  the  lemon  juice,  to  nourish  us  on 

the  sea, 
And  Father  Muthew's  medals  we  brought  to  America 

When  our  merriment  was  over  going  to  bed  thatnight 
The  captain  went  round  the  ship  to  see  if  all  was  right 
He  says,  *  brave  boys,  do  oat  go  down,  you  need  not 

tbinli  of  sleep, 
F«r  in  a  few  hours  more  we'll  be  slumbering  ia  the 

deep  !*  u> 

Then  out  spoke  Captain  Conlston  to  his  jovial  crew 
\Vq  must  fight  until  we  die  we've  nothing  else  to  do. 
Our  enemy  is  approaching  down  from  the  western  sea 
To  rob  U3  of  tur  property,  going  to  America. 

When  the  pirate  ship  came  up  they  order'd  us  to  stand 
Your  gold,  and  precious  loading,  this  moment  we  de- 
mand, 
Your  gold,  and  precious  loading  resign  to  us  (his  day 
There's  not  a  soul  you'll  ever  ta^e  unto  America, 

Then  out  spoke  captain  Colston  that  hero  stout  &bold 

It's  in  the  deep  we  all  would  lie,  before  we'd  be  con- 
trolled, 

When  the  battle  it  commeBced,  the  blood  in  streams 
did  flow,  (overthrow. 

But  undaunted  were  our  passengers  who  did  thepirate 

There  was  one  yonng  man  upon  the  deck,  with  his 
sweetheart  by  his  side  (bulwark  side, 

And  with  courage  brave,  tbey  fought  their  way  along 
She  cried  ray  gallant  hero*s  I  soon  will  end  this  stsife 
And  with  a  pistol  ball  she  took  the  pirate  captains  life 
The  cries  of  women  &  children  as  in  the  hold  they  lay 
"Whilst  the  captain  and  his  gallant  crew  shew'd  them 

^^      Irish  play, 
With  courage  bold  tbey  boarded  thepirate  that  day, 
And  our  boys  gave  three  cheers  all  for  America. 

Now  to  conclude  &  make  an  end  the  truth  I  tell  to  yoo 
Not  one  soul  we  ever  lost  excepting  one  or  two, 
'1  he  pirate  ship  surrendered  just  at  the  break  of  day, 
And  we  brought  her  a  prisoner  unto  America. 


./ 


^'^ 


i 


^1 


re-^ 


rilE    LAST 


E.  Hodges,  Printer,  Whules.le  Toy  and 
Marble  Warehouse,  26,  Grafton  Street,  Soho 
V\  here  may  he  oblwinedatl  the  old  aiid  new 
Sungs  of  the  day,  Children's  Books,  &c 


Tis  the  last  rose  of  summer, 

Left  blooming  alone. 
All  her  lovely  companions        .; 

Are  faded  and  gone  ;  ^ 

N(5  flower  of  her  kindred,  | 

No  rose  bud  is  liigb, 
To  reflect  back  the  biossomfe 

Or  give  sigh  for  sigh. 

I'll  not  leave  ihee  thou  lone  one. 

To  pine  on  thy  stem. 
Since  the  lovely  are  sleeping, 

Go,  sleep  thou  vvith  taem  , 
Thus  kindly  1  scatter, 

Thy  leaves  oe'r  the  bed. 
where  the  mates  of  thy  garden 

Lie  scentless  and  dead.    ' 

So  scon  may  I  follow, 

when  friendship's  decay 
And  from  love's;  shining  circlei 

The  gems  drop  awav  ; 
when  true  hearts  lie  wiiher'd 

And  fond  ones  have  llown 
Oh  !  who  could  inhabit, 

This  bleak  world  alone  ? 


IIU  O'LY 

UNCLE   JNED 


H  K  ODGES,  Printer,  (frora  PITTS)  whole- 
sale To)  and  Marble  warelioust-,  31,  Dndl.-v 


6tietii,  boven  Dials. 

"1:1  R  \  A  V    O'LyoH  was  a  ^entbiua'n  horn, 

1  Me  liv  d  at  a  time  when  no  clotbcs  ihey 

were  worn. 

But  as  fashion  walAed  out  of  courie   B  van 

wallteti  in,  .    [Lynn. 

Whoo.  I'll  soon  leud  the  fashions,  »ayg  Bi^an 

CU.ORU*, 

Do,  do,  do,  it  'U  do, 

Says  Br\aa  0'L\nn  it  '11  do. 

jrva  1  O  Lynn  htid  a  1  breechu  to  wear, 
He  ^oi  sneei>sskiii«  for  to  makt-  hiin  %  p««r, 
W  itii  the  fleshy  bi  !e  out  and  [he  wooly  side  'n, 
Whou,  they'ie  pleasaut  and  cool,  »a\s  Hryau 
O'Lyim. 

Bryan  O'Lynn  bad  no  sliiit  to  hU  back, 
He  went  to  a  neighbmr's  and  borrow'<i  :i  sack, 
Thtn  i:e  puckerM  the  meal  bag  up  tiuder  his  chin 
\\  huo,  tl»ev'il  lako  ihem  for  ruflies,  says  Bryan 
O'Lynn. 

Bryun  U'Lynn  had  no  bat  on  his  head, 
He  atutk  on  the  po   bein^  up  to  »he  dead, 
Tb«n  he  murdered  a  cud  for  ihe  $  .ke  of  its  fin, 
Whuo,  "'twill  pass  for  a  feather,   savs  Bryaa 
O'Lynn. 

Bryan  O'Lynn  was  hnrd  qp  for  a  coat. 
He  borrowed  a  s!^in  from  a  noii-hbjuring  gOTt 
With  the  horns  fciick'U;;   out  froiu   the  oxters 
end  then,  [Bryan  O'Lvnti. 

VV^hoo,   lLe>*ll    take    them    f-M    pistols,  8a}g 

Bryan  O'Lynn  had  no  st  ckin^s  to  wear, 
lie  bonght  a  r.n's  skin  to  m  ke  htm  a  ,jiiir. 
He  then  drew  them  over  lu  uian!^  srtiu[0'Lyan 
«Vij.»u,     they  le    ill  g^nt    wear,   says    Bryan 

Bryan  O'Lyau  had  no  broi^^ne  to  his  to  s  Ithose 
H-  hopp'u  in  two  crab  si^elis  to  serve  h  in  f  >r 
Then  he   split   up    tw  »  o>bters  that    mitc  ed 
like  a4win,  '       [Brvan  O'Lynn. 

whou,    ihty'U  *hiac  out    like  buckles'    ikiys 


Brynn  O  Lynn  h  id  no  wa(ch  to  put  od, 
He  scooped  out  a  turnip  to  nauk"  liim  m  on©, 
Then  lie  planted  a  cricket  right  under  tbes'  in, 
whoo,  th  7IJ  think  its  a  lic-w  ng,  8<ivs  Bryan 
O'Lynn. 

Bryan  O  Lynn  to  his  house' had  no  door, 
He^d  the    ky  for  a  roof,  and  the  bog  for  a  floor 
Ht'M  a  way  to  jump  out,  and  away  to  swim  m, 
Whou,   it's  nij^hty  convaynientj  says  Bryaa 
O  Lynn. 

Bryan  O'Lynn  went  a  courting  one  night. 
He  set  both  the  mollier  and  daughter  to  fijht. 
To  %bt  for  his  hand  thw  both  stripped  io'th« 

Ti'u      "''Im^  lO'Lvni. 

ubco,     III    ma'ry    you    both,    says    Bryitn 

Bryan  O'Lynn,  his  wife  and  his  wife's  mothrr, 

Tl  ey  all  lay  down  m  the  bed  togothf'r, 

The   sheets  they  were  ould  auU   the  blank'  H 

were  iLio, 
Li*-  else  to  the  wall,  wys  Bry^n  O'Lynn, 

Biya  1  O  Lynn,  his  wi  e  and  his  wife's  mot!  «r, 

I  h-  yall  Wfi.t  home  o  er  the  bridge  (owether. 

The  brid>;eii  broke  down  ..nd  they  all  tumbled 

i«»    ,  [O'LVBH. 

v>  h'H),    well   go  home  by  water,  sajs  Bryaa 

V!sCL\L  NED 

I  OGCCknew  a  nigger  and  his  name  was  UncU 
B  t  he's  gone  dead  long  ago,  [Ned 

He's  got  no  wool  on  the  fop  of  hi»  head, 
In  the  place  wuere  wo  d  ouyht  to  grow. 

CHOHl|i*. 

Hand  up  the  hhov.l  and  the  hoc. 
Lay  duwi)  the  fi  die  anti  the  boy. 
There  s  no  more  w  ork  f.  r  po:)r  Old  Ned, 
He's  gone  wlieie  the  good  niggers  go. 

His  nails  wete  as  U»ng  as  the  cane  ia  the  break« 
H  's  got  no  e\«-  for  to  s.)e. 
He's  got  no  teeth  to  eat  the  oat  cake. 
He's  lorced  to  let  the  oat  c  ke  be. 
CH  aus. 
Hand  up  the  shov  1  anU  the  hoe,  fcc 

On  a  cold  fiostv  morning  this  Nigge   ke  d^erf. 
In  the  churi  hyurd  they  luid  h  m  low. 
And  tlie  Nigi;efs  all  said  that  they  were  afraid^ 
Hi«  Lk«  they  never  should  know. 

CHOULTS. 

Hitod  up  the  siiovel  and  tke  Itos,  bo. 


CAIIV 


#\ld  Tubal  Cain  was  a  man  of  mighl, 

In  the  days  when  earth  was  young ; 
By  the  fierce  red  light  of  his  furnace  bright, 

The  strokes  of  his  hammers  rung; 
An,d  he  lifted  high  his  brawny  hand, 

On  the  iron  glowing  clear, 
Till  the  sp.irks  rushed  out  with  scarlet  rou 

And  he  i>i  'r  med  the  sword  and  spear, 
And  he  sanp;  ,!iurrah  for  my  handiwork, 

Hurrah  for  the  spear  and  sword, 
Hurrah  for  the  hand  that  shall  wield  them 

For  he  shall  be  king  and  lord.  (well. 

To  Tubal  Cian  came  many  a  one, 

As  he  wrought  by  his  roaring  fire. 
And  eacb  on^  prved  for  a  strong  steel  blade 

As  the  crow    t.f  his  own  desire; 
And  he  made  them  weapons  sharp  &  strong. 

Till  they  shouted  loud  for  glee, 
And  gave  him  gifts  of  pearls  and  gold, 

And  spoils  of  the  forest  free. 
And  they  sang,  hurrah  for  Tubal  Cain, 

Who  hath  given  us  strength  anew  ; 
Hurrah  for  the  smith,  hurrah  for  the  fire. 

And  hurrah  for  the  metal  true. 

BM  a  sudden  change  came  o'er  his  head. 

Ere  the  setting  of  the  sun. 
Add  Tubal  Cain  was  tilled  with  pain, 

For  the  evil  he  had  done. 
H^  saw  that  men,  with  rage  and  heat. 

Made  war  upoi  their  kind, 
A«id  the  land  was  red  with  the  blood  they  shed 

In  their  rasre  for  carnage  blind. 
Aod  he  said,  a'as  !  that  ever  I  made, 

Or  that  skill  of  mine  should  plan, 
The  speai  and  sword  for  the  man  whoes  joy, 

Is  to  slay  his  fellow  man, 

And  for  many  a  day  old  Tubal  Cain, 

Sat  brooding  o'er  his  woe; 
AokJ  his  hand  fori  bore  to  smite  the  ore 

And  his  furnace  smouldered  low, 
But  he  rose  at  last  with  a  cheerful  face, 

And  a  bright  courageous  eye, 
Aud  bared  his  srong  right  arm  for  work, 

While  the  quick  flames  mounted  high^ 
Ami  he  sang,  hurrah  for  my  handiwork, 

And  thtt  red  sparks  lit  the  air,  (made, 

Kot  alone  for  the  blade  was  the  bright  steel 

And  he  fashioned  the  first  plougshare. 

An  1  men,  taught  wisdom  from  the  past. 

In  friendship]  )ined  their  hands, 
Hung  t'le  sword  in  the  hall,  the  spear  on  the 

And  p'oughed  the  willing  land,  (^wall, 

And  san>;,  Hurrah  for  I'ubal  Cain, 

Our  staunch  old  friend  ig  he, 
And  for  the  ploughshare  and  the  plough^ 

To  him  our  praise  iha  I  be. 
But  whe-n  opprfession  rears  itiji  h»^^ 

(Jl-  tyrant  would  be  lord, 
7'ii^'  we  may  thank  him  for  the  plougkj 

We'll  mi  forget  tb«  »^¥oid, 


1^ 


A  SEQUAL  TO  "  MARY  BLANE." 


T17,        ^»''f^e..  Printer,   (from  PITT'S,) 
Wholesale    Tov     and    Marbie    Warohuse, 
No.  31,  Street.  St  ven  Dials. 


'll/'hen  1  was  stolen  fi-om  my  home, 

And  made  a  captive  slave. 
'J'hey  bound  me  with  an  iron  chain — 

i  did  for  mercy  crave. 
All  day  I  wept ;  at  night  I  cried^ 

"  On  !  send  me  back  again 
Unto  my  own  dear,  happy  home — 
To  my  poor  Reuben  iiayne  .' 

Oh  !  pity  my  poor  Reuben  Rayne, 

No  friendly  voice  to  cheer  him  novr. 
Oh  !  pity  my  poor  Reuben  Rayne  I 
He  11  never  smile  again," 

They  sold  me  to  a  Christian  man. 

Who,  weeping  pitied  me; 
He  loosed  the  cruel  bondage  yoke. 

And  kindly  set  me  free. 
But  oh  !  1  could  not  Reuben  find— 

My  own  dear  Reuben  Rayne ; 
They  told  me  he  was  dead  and  gone, 
And  sleeping  on  the  plain. 

Then  pity  my  poor  Reuben  K&yue, 

Deep  sorrow  broke  his  aching  li«»rt 
T  hen  pity  my  poor  Reuben  RarBe, 
He'll  never  wake  again. 

All  ni^ht  I  sat  upon  his  grave, 

With  anguish  I  did  cry, 
*«  Awake,  awake,  my  love  awake  { 

Or  let  me  with  you  die  ; 
For  in  this  wretched  world  of  wos 

I  ne'er  shall  re^t  again,  .--t^ 

Until  X*m  sleeping  by  thy  side. 
My  own  dear  Keubsu  Ray»e." 

Tiien  pity  my  poor  Keuben  Rayne, 

Deep  sorrow  broke  hi  aching  hwr| 
Then  uity  my  poor  lieuben  Rayne. 
H«1i  BtYer  wak»  sgai*  I      ■     -^  , 


THE  600DRHINE  WINE  " 

Tapping  at  the    window 

W  H  O  S  E  D  EE  P  L  Y        NEWFOUNDLAND  DOG 
DKINKS  OF  WINE 


(Jaily  still  my  moments  roll 

While  1  quaff  the  flowinj?  bowl 
Care  can  never  reach  ^he  sonl 

Who  deeply  drinks  af  wiue 
See  the  loner  pale  with  grief 

Bind  his  brow  witli  yellow  leaf 
But  hisjsonl  soon  deep  of  Mine 

From  bridking  find  relief 
Eves  ot  fire  and  lips  of  dew 

Cheeks  that  shame  the  roses  hne 
Dearer  these  to  me  or  you 

who  deeply  drinks  of  wine 


THE    RHINE    GOOD     WINE 
Pcur  out  the  Rhine  wine  let  it  fljw 

Like  a  free  &  ftowiug  river 
Till  sadness  sinks  aud  ever  *oe 

Lies  diOHOsd  beiieath  its  waves  for  ever 
For  naught  can  cbc«r  ih«  hearts  that  pine 

Like  a  deep  deep  djeaught  of  the  good  Phiae  Win 

Pour  ont  Rhine]  Wne  ever  more 

Let  not  the  gobliel  nevor  be  liriag 
lie  Poets  song  &  the  sages  lor 

And  \h«  Patriots  loftv  soul  inspiring 
ygfgil^ofteriug  meet  at  Freedom  shrine 

Is  a  iletp  deep  draugbtof  good  Rhia«  Wine 

Pour  out  the  Rhine  vime  when  each  baa 

DOtb  grap  a  brimming  measure 
The  pledge  «hall  be  our  fatherland 
■  And'Fieemen  Fiiend»hlp  Love  and  Pleasure 
Tlien^urah  for  the  land  of  the  pruple  vine 

And  a  deep  deep  dianghl  of  tUe  good  Rhioe  Wine 


Yet  deeper  and  deeper  and  wilder  the  eight, 
I  woald  morn  were  with  us  &  brought  it's  ga!d 

tii-ht. 
For  my  s  pirits  they  sink,  so  unearthly  tbe  sijade 
could    fancy  almost  that  my  heart  wete  afia 

Good  Htevens  that  cry  !    more  keen  than    ihc 

sword 
How  it  thrills  on  tbe  ear  A  child  oVf^rbo*rd  ! 

o  Neptune  ?  whet  Neptune  come  hither  lo  me 
whete,  you  see  him  I  now  tho^    I  cannot  see. 
Yar  eii  to  that  cry  boy"  good  iellow  awaj 
ou  oed  not  to  track  him  the  (ye  <  f  the  day. 

He's  gone  at  the  word — how  the  squall  it  came* 
down  (irow  • 

And  the  waters  blacker  grown  at  Heavens  augiy 
Hush;    har,    something  seeiuii  iu  ihe  5le»ui!*«f 
the  sky  ilualin^  uigh 
Mark  ail  isdarlt 
Ha  ?  good  dog  do  1  see  the  again  ? 
Heaven's  will  be  done  stiiifwr  ev«;r  Amen. 

Quick  a  ligiit  ab    he  breathes  tiut  conieiudttc 
So  CO  d — such  sweetness  to  WitL«r 

Ah  he  murmers  dear  childj 
His  bine  eyes  ars  op'ning*— their  gaze  it  Is  wild 
Brave  Neptune  good  fellow  thou'rt  gHllai.t  aii4 

true— 
Was  eve  companion  so  faithfal  as  yoa 


TAPPING   AT    THE    WINDOW 


TAPPING  at  tho  window. 

Peepin^;  b*er  the  bUnd 
Tis  reallY  quite  suprisiog 

He  never  learns  to  oiind. 
Twas  only  jester  evening, 

As  in  tHe  daik  wo  sa;t, 
Mv  mothnr  asked  me  sharply 
V»  Pruj  Mary  who  is  that,    { 
4»08  lb«t  indeett  VoU're  ceitaio 
HOW  much  ^e  made  start 
en  si'efti  to  lose  tneir  wisdom 
Whenever  they  lose  their  heart. 


Yeseheir  he  is  I  see  him 
«  Th  lamp  his  shadow  throw 
Across  the  curtaui  window 

He's  stepping  on  his  toes 
He'll  never  think  of  tapping 

Or  making  any  din 


Tis  plain  1  must  goes  lo  hii*. 
It's  no  nse  now  (o cough 

I'llop'  the  door  j  ust  softly 
If  but  to  send  him  oil" 

Tis  well  if  from  the  doorst^ 
He  not  shortly  hurled 


A  knock  thought  e'en  the  slightes   Ob  trtan  their  never  *eas  &  'trOiVntfe 


M 


Is  worse  than  lookin*  in 
Tap  tap  would  any  think  H 

He  never  leaitos  to  mind 
S.t  «uriey  quite  suprising. 

He  think  my  mother  blind 


Till  you  cama  ifi'to  the  world 
Tapping  at  the  window 

Peepitig  6ver  the  bliud 
Oh  man,  but  yon're  u  t'roubl6 

Atid  that  *ir6  maideA  fend 


£  Hedges      Printer,  (from  Pitts')  Toy  and    Maible  Wfwehottse,  26  Grafton  Str«et,  "S««# 


I 

!         X 


Air. — Yankee  Doodle. 

QO-NJE  souud  flie  dj-ura  and  fire  the  guo, 
i'o  serve  thn  Queen  be  willing, 

Aud  you  mu«t  mind  your  P's  and  Q'g, 
When  you  go  out  a  drilling  : 

Your  pay  is  thirteen-pence  a  day, 
'I he  articles  Fil  mention, 

if  you  get  shot  with  an  iron  pot. 
Perhaps  you'll  get  a  pension- 
Then  off  she  goes — turn  out  your  toes, 
Militia-mea  fi^ht  aisy 

*  Drill  him  well,' cries  Sergeant  Bell, 

Heads  up,  says  Corporal  Casey. 

Yo-u  ©obhler  Sneeze,  turn  in  your  knees 
And  wear  jour  co^it  the  right  way.     ' 
Or  bv  a  Court  Martial,  you'll  be  tried, 

*  Flare  up,'  says  General  Pipeclay. 
Your  faces  clean,  be  •sharp  and  ke  en. 

And  see  what  stands  before  ye, 
Strike  up  your  flutes,and  black  jour  boots 
And  fight  for  Bull  aud  glory. 

The  Cobbler  leaves  his  awl  and  last. 
The  Tanner  leaves  his  do^-skia,  ^ 

The  Baker  leaves  his  half-penny  rol  ls« 
Tha  Tailor  learex  his  bodkio; , 


The  Butt:lu»r  lesves  his  greasey  bkck. 
The  Italian  leaves  his  monkey. 

And  Colonel  Gee,  give  one  pound  three. 
For  a  scarlet  belt  and  a  donk«y. 

Grs'at  bouncing  Nan,  says,  my  man  SatUy 

Did  all  he  could  to  dish  her, 
He  stole  his  fathers  eoat,  and, 

Volunteer'd  in  the  Militia: 
While  charming  Jane  went  down  a  lane,   ' 

And  was  confined  so  clever, 
With  a  little  son,  marked  with  a  gun, 

A  Bayonet,  Cap  and  Feather. 

Stand  at  ease,  toes  out,  knees. 

Attention  in  a  clap-trap. 
Says  Corporal  .GiH.  that  Cobbler  Will, 

Has  lost  ihe  siring  of  his  knapsack. 
Quick  march — before — right,  left,  behindf| 

Prime  and  load  so  steady 
Whfin  war  alarms,  boys  shoulder  arms. 

Present,  and  then  make  ready. 

*  That  little  Snip,*  says  Sergeant  Trjpp, 

Does  like  a  foreign  hen  lie  low, 
He  wears  a  coat  'twould  fit  Bt  n  Caunt, 

Aud  a  trowsers  made  for  Bendi^o. 
He  his  not  fit  to  have  a  kit. 

Or  travel  to  the  Nile  then. 
To-morrow  night  we'll  make  him  fight. 

The  king  of  the  Sandwich  Islands. 

Eighty  thousand  lads  with  hearts  so  gUd, 

They  want  in  good  conditio q 
To  go  to  Sydenham  for  to  guard 

The  great  new  Exhibition. 
And  then  to  dance  to  Spain  and  France 

And  to  the  Cape  where  care  he's 
To  fire  away  at  the  Hottentots 

And  knock  down  all  the  pear  trees      ^ 

Now  Private  Plana  beat  up  the  drum. 

And  call  the  lads  tojfether. 
See  how  they  run  with  fife  and  gun, 

And  noblo  cap  and  leather  ; 
We  wil  have  them  all  both  ^reat  and  small 

To  fight  for  wealth  and  riches, 
u  iron  pegs — on  wooden  legs 

With  neither  shirt  or  breeches. 


Hodges,  Printer,  J  Dials  j 


I?  (>  (yw 


£  \ah  !  lore  it  is  murder, 
^  ^Aaid  1  wjsh  it  further  : 
y&f  faith  Im  inclintti  t&  get  ml  of-mv  liM 
I^Ti  nut  f>f«TTJv  senses,. 
Brside*  the  expence«; 
A^  onls  becaUiW  I'ra  in  want-of awifes, 
\\  idow   ^^aln»^y. 
She  was  m    coney» 
Onlv  bef  h*»prt  was  so  h<»p<i  sand  ^  stoney  : 
Och!-«itiow  «ai^  Psb>pTOV  bat-hlor's  tra'^N'., 
(  r  as  stue  as  I  live  1  ^lall  die  a.»  old  maicl^ 
©c^  !  w,vJow  Maijoney  P-  'ch  !  widow  Ma>i««y  ? ' 
Och  1  VA  idow   Mahoney, 
W  as  tall  stott  and(A>oney  ; 
If  eT,Ru8l>aft'i  had  l«»ft  her  to  plawgh  tljie  salt  Rea»^ 
i  e?d  gone  to  the  bottom. 
His  guiiiea?  she  got  etn  ;, 
§o  without  agy  laUotir  shv  lived  at  her  ease  ; . 
A  bfiiautifpl creature, 
u  any  iii  jiature, 
Andiii»st  like  myself  in  every  feature, 
-      "^  QisW  I  widow,  said  I  «?. 

l.scornM  to  be  st  aly 
So  treated  hea  dailv , 
As>«ure  as  tue  niji;ht  came  to  whisky  and  tea  ; 
And  whya-ia  aiuxidy. 
Her  i>eaiitiful  bo  y, 
Woh\4  8Jtv.cbeek  by  jqui,  pn  one  side  l>Qhind  me, . 
lo  finish  tbe  matter, 
Mik^-llnoney  was  fatter* 
Andi  fdit'  wi<l  hu  blarney  he  fhro.ved  his^eyes at  fier 
I  ,ch  1  widow  said  i,  atc 

So  when  to  their  sockets, 

I'd  .einptie<l  Tuv  P"ckets, 
S^e  open'd  her  heart,  and  .nhe  plainly  contewl  :  : 

i;h^t  :s  I  wa^  8  iialer, 

AtidMicha-i   was  taller, 
Wh«  that  was  the  reasoii  sbe  like<l  him  the  best, 

1  felt  in  a  t^'itttr,  , 
o  hear  worHs  *>  hitter 
Rtb.H,«bloP  h<r  gold  S.  .  -'^^-i;^;^^^- 

Ere  lougthey  had  tn-rifd, 

I  he    'j?rttvxl  to  gt>t  marrie  ', 
Andiftvingrl .  weut  to  tb.e  the  pr.e.t  to  ^et  wed  ; 

WM'n  w,  o  ahovild  be  stalKiug, 

To^toaXheir.s^e  t  takini^, 
But  the  -T  ows  live  husband  the  man  was  not  dead 

Mr.   Mike,  wasctutounded, 

The  wid-^tw  she  fiw.iunded,, 
IMte  man  pick'd  her  ud  Mhe  neigh>..u^..urrouuded. 
And  so  I  W08  lefr  ^ith  my  Iwtchlcr  s-  a.cli., 
An°  ^    «nre  as  1  live  I  sb  11  die  an  olu  inald4 
Thr^^w  MlLney  1  Thro"  widosv  Mahoney. . 


H    Ho(ige«,  Printer,  (from  PITT'.SV    V\  hole^ale 
T»>v,War]wu»ev;^l;  J>udley.Ht.»Sevi<u  Diak, 

pOME  darkies  listen  untoiue- 

-     A  story  1 11  re  u  e. 
Which  bapj>e,nedi»a  v  IW» 

ln.x3kl;v  Rr<»l!na  state< 
Ail  down.nm!>ng.:the  aK'adows,  . 

i  uscti  tQ.XJio.'ve  the  hay. 
Iiallwav  s -worked  Ahe  hai{l<*r 

W  hen  liihpugbtvo  -.  Knsa  May 8#^ 

CHORUS- 
Oh  dearest  Miiy  yomVe  as  lovely  a*  the  day,  . 
Your  eyes -fobrif^ht.  they  shine  at  night, 
Whfen  tbe,»n«M»n  lias  gone  a vy ay » . 

M<r  master  gave  me  holiday, . 

He  said  hcM.  give  me  more,- 
ir,vfry  kindly  thanketl  him. 

r\s',l   rowed  my  boat  from  shorei- 
Then  dbwt)  the  rivijr  I  did  g*),. 

With  my  heait  soh'^Eiht.  and  gay, . 
To  the  cottage  of  my  own  true  love,  ,  ! 

Hy  deartjst .  H<>«a  M  ay , . 

We  v«wed  to  love  each  other  Ifingj  , 

As  we  aionc  did  *trav 
And  oft  my  merr ,    banj/ s  so»g, 

\V^is4u»ed  to  ilosa    >1*  , 
Tlw  white  man  witli  his  spreadinjj  saifs 

I>id  hear  ra  ■*  loye  away> 
And  now  my^brokeii  heart  bewa,ils,^. 

The  Iqss  of  Ho3i4  May. 

I  sat  beneath  the  old  oak  tree^- 

i  naye  sat  for  manj  an  hour, 
A  watching  of  the  humming  birds, 

TUat  hopp  d  from  fia^ver  to  tto^^ver, 
I  haVe  seen  my  boat  upon  the  rivLer, 

I  leaped  so  lightiand  gay. 
But  1  never  war*  saj  ;  happy  there, 

As  with  m)  Eosp,  Mfty,, 


ETYWITC 


WE     YET    MAY 
'       MEET    AGAIN 


HODGEs,  Printer,  (from  PIT  1  'S)  whole 

sale  I'oy  and  Marl>le  warehouse,  where 

i,      upwards  of  5000  Soogs  Qro  continudlly 

I     on    sale,    31,  v.  Strtet,    Sev«.n 

^1        ia!s. 


THP^ 


-'1^ HOUGH  SOI  row's  cloud  is  o'er  ut  now 
^  And  I  must  soon  depart, 

In  foreign  lands  for  many  yearsj 

To  roaitf|^th  aching  heart. 
♦Ve  jet|MV^ope  that  store  of  bliss, 

In  jo^Tfor'iis  remain, 
And  tiiougli^e  part  in  anguish  now, 
V/e  yet  may  meet  again. 

Forw<:il  I  know  when  for  away       :-,. 

Thou  oft  wi  1  think  of  me, 
Tor  truth  was  in  thv  gentle  voice, 

And  breathes  *  I'll  live  for  thee.* 
Then  faithful  still  in  every  clirae. 

We""!!  wake  the  cheering  s'rain. 
Though  distance  may  divide  us  now, 

We  yet  mav  mr et  again. 

TIPPETYWITGHET. 

/bis  morning  very  handy, 

My  malady  was  much 
1  in  my  tea  toak  brandy, 

\nd  took  a  cup  too  much,     (yawns) 

But  stop,  I  mayn't  mag  hard, 
My  headaciie's  if  you  pIea^e, 

One  pinch  of  Irish  blackguard, 

Fli  take  to  give  aie  ease,     (sneeze) 

Now  I'm  drowsy  grown. 

For  ihis  very  morn. 
1  rose  when  (o^k  was  crowing, 
Excuse  me  if  I  yawn,     (yarns) 

I'm  n(tt  in  cue  for  frolic, 

Can't  my  spiris  keep, 
L<'VH  on  windv  cholic, 

*T'^  that  makes  me  weep,     (cries) 

Pm  nm  in  mood  for  crying, 

C  r»'s  a  silly  calf, 
If  to  get  far  you're  trying, 

Tho  only  wa/d  to  Uxugh,     (ha,  ha,  ba) 


Air — Young  Henry  of  the  Raging  M.tin. 

THE  night  was  dnrk  as  I  di^l  ramble,    , 
I  heard  a  voice  in  sorrow  pine,       p/, 
O  er  a  mountain  came  a  damsel,  ,"*> 

As  the  abbey  clock  struck  nine,      f^ 
She  was  weeping,  iloAly  creeping,     - 

Down  the  valley  tiiat's  so  wild,      f 
Wauilering  Mary,  wet  and  wtary,     // 

In  her  arnic*  an  orphan  child.       /, 

Along  the  road  she  slowly  t  od,       '■ 

O  hosh  dear  bady  she  did  say. 
This  lonely  road  is  our  abode 

To  wander  until  break  of  day. 
Your  father  he  is  on  the  sea, 

A  prey  ncto  the  fishes  wild  ; 
Your  mother's  gone,  for  her  I'rt  nKurn,-'^ 

And  neer  forsake  her  oiphan  Child. 

By  chance  a  good  old  Engiis  farmer,     ^ 

Overheard  what  the  did  sav. 
He  declared  that  none  should  harm  her. 

To  meet  her  he  did  go  straightway. 
Teavs  fell  fren.  his  eyes  in  showers, 

His  honest  heart  with  p  ty  smiled. 
Crying,  come   my    d^ar   you're   welcom 
here, 

L'kewiso  your  liitle  orphan  child. 

'Twas  tien  benea  h  the  farmer's  dwellin 

Co  versation  still  went  on, 
Her  hards])ips  to  them  she  was  tel  ing, 

Wh  le  this  miiiJ  they  gazed  upon. 
They  lisleied  to  her  with  ai tension. 

In  e.  ch  bi  som  pity  boil'd,  > 

Said  they,  beneath  our  happy  mansion,  ' 

Wekonif;  with  your  Orphan  Child.     ' 

Time  parsed  oway  from  day  (o  day,      * 

Until  the  c  ild  became  a  man. 
Then  ]>ity  was  his  bosom's  sway,  i  \ 

And  h«:neity  his  nobler  plan.  9 

He  pi  ies  those  in  tattered  cloa  hing, 

And  gives  advic<>  to  those  beguiled, 
He  sends  relief  to  sooth  ti  e  gr.ef. 

Of  everj  wanikmig-  Oixx&aa  Coild. 


S  ilil[liiJ|!li!ji!i:i*.*i!!!l]i4!liit^  ^ 


D.EAREIl   8€;ENES 

OF 

HA P P Y  C H I L DHO () D 

— o-@-o — 
rrom  the  onsn^  of  X,'rjCiSX,EK  Amour, 


IJEARRR  scenes  of  happy  childdcKx! 

I  return  to  thee  a^zain, 
FinJinjj  fields  and  sriady  wildwood 

AH  their  beauty  still  retain  ; 
Though  all  seems  bright  before  rae. 

As  in  youth's  blest  sunny  day, 
JSiill  no  power  can  e're  restore  ine| 
To  tiie  place  now  pass'd  away  1 

Yes,  to  the  place  now  pass'd  away. 

• 

Thus  in  youth  our  fancv  pictures 

Brighter  dreams  of  future  bliss, 
Seekint?  wealth  in  distant  climates, 

Leaving  still  our  [»earts  in  this  ; 
S\hen  returning  sad  and  lonely. 

After  many  weary  years^ 
ptfendsare  gone,  emd  we  can  only 

View  those  scenes  with  bitter  tears, 
y  iew  those  scenes  &c. 


tiff 
m 

a 


E   MAY 
BE  HIPPY    YET 

(^11  smile  as  thou  wert.wont  to  smile, 

lielore  the  weight  of  rare 
Ilad  crushed  thy  heart  and  lor  awhilo 

Lett  only  sorrow  there  :J 
Some   thoughts  perchance   'twere  best   tc> 
quell. 
Some  impulse  to  forget. 
On  which  shonld  memory  cease  to  dwell^ 
We  may  be  happy  yet. 

Oh-  never  name  departed  days, 

Nor  vows  you  whispered  then, 
r»o'ind  which  too  sad  a  feeling  }>lay8 

To  trust  their  tones  again, 
Hegard  their  shadows  round  thee  cast 

As  if  we  n'er  had  met, 
And  thus  immindful  of  th^  past 

We  may  be  huppy  yet. 


^  E.  FIODGES,  FROM  I.  Pitts'.  Toy  andj 
^  Marble  Warehouse, »? I,  Dudley  St. 

^  late  tVJonmouth  Street, 

^  Seven  Dials. 


iBE  miXL  or  MY       ; 


K,  HODGES    l>rinter,  V^bole>a!eToy 
aad  i^larble  Warelionse  S6r Grallon  Si 
Sdho  London, 


1  uever  regret  the  day  that       married. 

So  happy  ana  i  with  the  girl  of  my  heart, 
I  jiever  had  uaused  to  wish  that  I  d  larric  U 

Ai\d  from  hpr  &  her  parentn  I  ne'er  with  to  pait, 
\Ve  dwcJl  in  our  co^,  k  happiuess  surround  us 

Foi  the  trpfk-Hue  of  gold  mines  wo  n^ver  will  pirt 
\A  iih  the  ble.ssing*of  peace,  with  laureUthey  cover 

^Ij  t;He*?t  little  creature,  the  girl  of  my  heart  )us 

TUv  father's  imfirm  and  my  mother  perhaps  sickly, 

liu:  stiii  theyn-e  daughter  tbeJr  footsteps  to  guide 
It  dues  give  me  joy  to  attend  oa  them  quickly 

i  o  have  a  young  grand^oD  it  would  be  tfaeir  prid 
Industry  .succeeds  «3.  as  each  goes  to  i«bonr, 

Way  such  joys  last  for  ever,  and  never  depart, 
Sh^  is  so  gentle,  good  aad  mild  her  hehavioui 

For  my  dear  little  creature'  the  girl  of  my  heari, 

CoJd  winter  is  gone  and  spna^  fast  approehing 
All  oature  w-eras  joyfull  aod  bheds  forth  her  bloom; 
'I  lie  birdf*  they  chirp  forth  as  summer  approehing. 

And  the  fair  yellow  primioae  puts  forth  bqr 
perfume, 
iBui  of  ft  1  their  great  gifts  that  are  green  by  nature, 

Frotn  uiy  wife  and  my  parents  I  uever  will  part 
.By  our  owu  friend?,  who  are  hrtppy  and  contented, 

With  the  sweet  little  creature,  the  girl  ot  my 
heart 

jMow  «^ea  1  think  of  *tbo  night  that  I  met  her 

And  I  went  to  ber  pardnti  to  aik  for  her  liand 
1  gain'd  ibeir  coDsei)t  and  oerer  wished  for  &  bdttef 

She  U  tbe  best  wife  in  England'^  fair  land, 
So  new  we  are  happy  and  coateoted  togatber> 

Her  Cather  and  mother  ne'er  from  us  •bail  part; ' 
Through  the  storm  of  thia  Uf«  we'll  hold  out  logatji 

ii'jiQ  ^W9^\  bitUe  wcftUro  {ho  girl  of  vxj  hem,  (et 


GIRL  FOE  ME 

OlfiOGNKEY; 

H I S  days  of  w«rk  are  past,  ,^ 

How  look  at  tny  poor  mock,  "  ~ 

He  i'f  >k8  a«  if  be  bad  seen  b.tter  dayc^ 
<So  many  liiues  bean  seen, 
Racing  round  tnevillaga  gr«eo 
So  sprightly  was  my  oltl  donkey, 

My  old  moke  was  ev«r  faithfu'l* 
Queer  grub  could  not  drive  him  away, 
i^oor  thing  he's  nearij  blind 
With  his  tail  stUck  out  beLind, 
Fit  for  ilQg's  meat  is  my  old  doi.ke/, 
At  many  a  race  or  fair, 

He  has  made  Ibe  people  atafe, 
With  ladies  he  has  galloped  away 

But  his  kicking  day  &ra  gone, 
And  his  braying  can't  be  borne 
Skin  and  bone  is  ray  •Id  donkey. 

l^oor  thing  he  is  aUa.vs  so  faithful] 
Hard  work  cannot  drive  h'm  aWay. 
But  still  he  know  I'm  k'ud|; 
His    rump  boRe  j^tick  out  behind. 
Hnrd  iidJng  is  my  old  donkey, 
At  pulling  coke  or  coal. 

We  is  good  upon  niv  scul, 
Ke  never  thinks  ofgo^  time  past  away. 
At  the  cart  he  gives  a  tug. 
}Jjs  Je^  goes  down  u  phig 
Un  the  raw  I  flanks  mj  old  donkey, 

My  old  donkey  is  evergratefuil, 
,He  don't  care  bow  mouldy  is  tJie  hay. 
iln  spit€  of  kicks  and  cuffs,  ' 

When  he's  deadi'li  have 'him  stuffed 
Ko  one  Bhall  have  my  old  donkey.  ' 


m 


AN     ENGX.1SH     GIRL     FOR    ME 

Old  Scotland  with  herlordly  hills  can  boasfof  maid 
Ons  fair,  "«v.v» 

For  aU  ^He  charts  bP  others  ownV^fnle:  r^o?:  m'^k 
I've  ga^ed  on  Spani^d.  domu'seyes  &  brilliant  tho'  they 

Vn  look'd  en  brighter  and  excJafmed,  An  English  glTL 
An  E.:gli^h  gir),an  English  girl  an  Engliali  girTfa;  me 
An  Kogjigiigirjtorine. 
I've  seen  (h.  gracefull  form,  of  France  and  yet  I  can'^ 

lorget, 
Our  girls  quit,  as  mch  of  grace  with  ha  of  (hec^quet 

I  vc  heard  Italian  b^uties  sing  and  thrijl'd  at  eYery  ton« 
Ic  #1  dearer  is  an  English  eong  f.om  voices  of  our  owZ 

*L  amour  ^  n*t  s  o  sweet  a  sound  as  loVe  «ust  eve?  be. 
So  once  move  from  my  bean  I  say  an  Engh-sh  girl  for  m. 

An  English  girl  for  me  &c 
For  beauty  &  for  goodness  sake  who  will  why  let  tbem 
roam,  ' 

Vm  quite  content  with  tiat  J  f  ad  witJk  oux  Eaffliah 
boa.e,  ® 

Jfo  f^r  Franlein,«r  l>emoiaeUe* n« ikintta  with  her  mi]a 
Shall  ever  teopt  me  to  &rge<  the  ones  of  our  hk. 

Aod  when  I  seek  a  keart  ani  luu)d  amoog  Ine'feirand  ftee 
SpU  con.ta»t  w  my  fauh  I  »ay,      An  Eagli.b  girl  for 
"**  Afl  £[af  H;9h  girl  foi  me 


m&i 


€iSTORMy   WINDS  DO   BLOW 


^.m 


■S-^JSE" 


HTIN6ALE 


M 


[     E.  HODGES  (late  Pitt's)  Printer  wh^le 
i        sale  Marbie  and    loy   warehouse,  o*. 
^«c.-,  stieet,  Seven  Dials. 


'N  the  days  of  old  when  forest  and  glade. 
To  the  huners  hounls  were  free, 
The  ratrry  mei\  ro  le  through  brake  and  glade 

To  meet  at  the  tryst' ng  tree. 
And  there  was  seen  in  Lincoln  greeh, 

Full  many  a  yeom  m  bold, 
Wth  a  good  vew  how.  for  buck  or  doe, 

And  «  steed  of  st  dwort  mould. 
And  loud  and  lasting  was  the  glee. 
As  they  drank  to  the  brave  old  trusting  tree. 

At  early  dawn  oj  merry  May  day, 

The  welkin  would  ring  witli  ghe. 
And  ihe  villagers  c.irried  the  Qaeeu  of  May 

To  be  crowned  at  the  trysting  tree. 
Bright  eye^  wouM  gLince  in  the  j  )vous  dance 

And  tlie  merry  pipe  would  s)uud, 
While  the  o  d  man's  tale  and  the  nut  brown 
ale. 
Would  add  to  tlie  mir  h  around, 
And  the  leaves  woule  shake  on  the  brave  old 
tree, 
'      lujoy  at  their  rustic  revelry. 

Young  lovers  have  met  nf-ath  h's  giant  shade 

When  t!ie  curfew  closM  the  dav. 
And  there  has  many  a  maitlen  pray'd. 

For  her  lov'd  one  far  away. 
Kings  liave  died  in  their  regal  pride. 

And  storms  have  swept  the  land. 
But  the  trysting  tree,  though  old  he  be. 

Does  still  maintain  his  stand. 
And  niuy  he  live  anotlier  race  to  see* 
And  brave,  the  rare  old  trysting  tree. 


m 


^^ 


m 


y  love  he  wais  a  rich  fangif  r's  son, 
When  first  my  tender  heart  he  won, 
His  love  io  me  he  did  n  veal, 
But  little  thought  of  tin  Nightingale. 

My  cruel  father  contrived  it  so. 
Thai  a  y<aing  shepherd  should  quickly  go. 
He  told  the  prcASgang,  vho  did  not  fal. 
To  press  my  love  to  the  Nightingale. 

On  the  15tli  of  November  last. 
The  wind  it  blew  a  bitter  blast, 
My  love  was  in  the  dreadful  galf^j 
Went  to  the  bottom  in  the  Nightingale. 

The  very  night  my  love  was  lost. 
Appear  d  to  me  his  da  l\  ghost. 
In  sailor's  dtess  and  visage  pale,  • 

That  was  his  dress  in  the  N'ghtingale. 

I  lifted  my  head  from  my  pillow  so  liigb, 
His  deadly  ghost  from  me  dd  fly, 
I  little  thought  my  love  would  sail. 
Or  end  his  days  in  the  Nightingale 
O  lovely  Nancy  he  not  surprised,  ' 
In  Biscay  bay  my  body  lies, 
To  beeome  a  prey  to  a  shark  or  whale, 
Th&t  was  my  fate  in  the  Nightingale. 
My  father's  dwelling  I  will  forsake. 
Some  lonely  valley  1  will  take, 
Some  lon'-ly  valley  or  some  distant  hill. 
To  mourn  his  fate  in  the  Nightingale. 

STORMY  WINDS  DO  BLOW. 

"VOU  genthmen  of  England  who  live  at 

■*■         e;ise,  the  seas 

Ah  !  little  do  you   think  upon  the  dang*>r  of 

Give  ear  unto   the    maiiners,  and    they   will 

pl-ii'dv  show, 
aU  <he  cares  and  fears,  , 

M'hen  the  stormy  winds  do  blow  war. 

With  any  foreign  dations,  we  fear  no  wounds 

or  .-cars,  for  to  know 

Our  roaring  guns  si  all  teach  them  our  >alour 
Whilst  they  reel  on  the  keel, 
When  the  stormv  winds  do  blow. 
Th(n  courage  ail  brave  mariners,  and  never 

be  afraid,  want  a  trade 

Whilst  we  have  bold  adventurers,  wene'r  shall 
Out  merchants  will  employ  us  to  bring  wealth 

ye  know, 
Then  be  bold,  work  for  gold,        "  . , , 

When  the  stormv  wiuds  do  biidMr 


BARLEY 


IT  was   in  the  mern  month  of  May,  when 

bay  it  wanted  making. 
Atid   iiarvest   tiuje  w^s  cuming»  and  barley  it 

want<d  rakint,% 
A  smart  y  ung  cviuplt*  ihey  did  meet,  for  to 

■  have  a  jovial  treat, 
All  for  to  havt^   a   joNial    treat   afnong*t  t*»e 
barley  raking,         Ri  too  ra  looral,  &c 

As  this  fair  maid   sat   on    the   maize  as  thej 

should  be  a  wooing, 
As  (his  fair  maid  sat  on  the  maize  as  they 

sliould  be  a  wooing, 
■  The  viilui^e  bells  so  merrily  played. 
That  m  >de  ihem  tliini  the  world  went  round 

amongst  the  barlt-y  rakiug, 

Ri  too  ra  looral.  &c. 
When  twenty  weeks  we  e  gone  arid  past  this 

maid  sh^*  frll  a  sighmg, 
When  furty  weeks  w  re  gone  and  past,  t'.ila 

miiid  sh*"  fA\  a  lying-, 
She  wrote  a  letter  to  Ler  love,  she  sajs  my  joy 

/         and  turtle  dove, 
If  yoifll  return  to  your  sweet  love,  you'll  ease 

her  of  her  sying. 

He  took  her  le'ter  ia  his  hand,  and  on  it  stood 
a  gazing.     ^      ^  a  mazing 

He  took  hej-  letter  in  his  band,  and  on  it  stood 

He  tuok  th'j  pen  and  wrote  again,  to  think  of 
ma  its  all  ii  vain, 

For  a  married  life  1  do   disdain,  so  well  do  I 

•  like  my  freedom.         Ri  too  ra,  &c. 

I  have  got  as  good  a  pair  of  shoes  as  ever  was 
made  of  leather, 

I  cotk  my  beaver  up  in  front,  and  face  both 
wind  and  W(  ather. 

And  after  that  1 1  ave  run  mj  race,  and  can- 
not find  a  belter  plac  , 

1  will  return   to  your  sweet  face,  we'll  live 

*  and  love  together, 

!  Ri  too  la  rooral,  &c. 

It  was  in  the  town  of  Gloucester  where  this 

young  man  was  t«k«  n, 
It  was  in  the  town  of  Gloucester  where  this 

young  man  Wc  s  taken, 
He  stempod  and   swore,  and  voved  and  tore, 

the  child  is  n;  ne  of  mine  I'm  sure, 
Yi/U  rogue,  you    rascal,   she  replied,  do  you 

remember  the  bar'ey  raking. 

Ri  loo  ra  looral,  &c. 


&>. 


E.  HODGES  (:ate  PiTT"s7p'.I7^,ho!? 
bale  Marb:e   and    .' oy    w*refaousek.  31 
*net   Senfen  Oiaig. 


gHABES  ofe^mk  ci.sen^tT^ 

Lenxe  al-n.'  tbv  bark  u while 
Morn  olas  !  will  not  restore  us,  ' 

Yonder  dim  and  distant  isle.' 
Still  Gsy  fancy  can  dscovt r, 

Sumiy  spots  where  friend's  may  dwell 
l>arker  shadows  round  us  Lov  r,  * 

J«le  of  beauty,  fare  thee  wtll  I 
Tis  the  hour  when  happy  faces 

Smile  around  the  taper's  light, 
Who  will  fill  our  vacant  places 

Who  will  singour  songs  to-night? 
Tbrough  the  mist  that  floats  above  us 

Faintly  sounds  the  vesper  bell  ' 

Like  a  voice  from  those  who  love  us 

Breathing  fondly  fare  thee  well.    ' 
When  the  waves  are  round  me  breaking. 

As  I  pace  the  deck  aJone, 
And  my  eye  in  vain  is  seeking, 

|"ine  preen  leaf  to  reat  upon. 
What  would  I  not  give  to  wander 

Where  my  old  companions  dwell, 
Absence  makes  the  heart  grow  fonder. 

Isle  of  beauty  fare  f  bee  well ! 

THE  TROUBADOUR. 
J^ROM  distant  clime?  a  troubadour 

1  make  in  every  courfmy  slay,    '  * 
Neatb  rustic  porch  and  silken  domcc 

1  tune  my  merry  minstrel  lay. 
But  most  where  love  delights  to  dweW, 
Mid  knights  who  sigh  for  lady's  hand, 
They  welcome  with  soft  music  s  spell. 

The  troubadour  from  distant  land. 
Where  neotar  brims  the  rosy  bowl. 

My  soul  in  festive  glee  shall  join', 
And  mellow  every  sparkling  draUj;hr, 

Like  sunshine  on  the  purpling  vine, 
But  most  where  love  entwines  my  brow, 

With  garhmds  wrought  by  hidy's  h.nd, 
Neath  mr.onlit  bowers  \ouVe  ;ure  (o  find. 

The  tiotibadour  fiom  diitani  land. 


Hodges,  Printer  &  Toy  Warehouse,  26^  Grafton-5lrei»t 


*!*  neW  s jng  Bailed    \ 

,  t  6k'   THE 


3?"',  Hodges,  Prkiter,  y^holesale  Toy  atid^: 
Marble  warehouse,  26,  Graftoti  Street;  ^ 
build,  Loridon.     Cfiildren's  Books,  &c.    ^ 


IT'S  early,  early  by  the  biieak  ofday, 
!J^own  by  those  fields  1  chano'd  to  stray 
^  Ijeard  a  la!r  maid  both  si^h  and  say, 
/The  lad  V  love  is  gone  tUr  away. 

J^e^P^^"®  ^^^  '^^^  ™®  ^^  grief  and  woe, 
A  lid  wlere  to  find  hira  I  do  not  know, 
1  ii'seai;ch  those  green  hills,  and  va!;ies 

If  the  hills  was  cover'd  with  frost  &  snow 

AVhat  voice,  what  Voit^e'nbW  is  this  I  hear 
iVs  like  the  Voib0  of  tay  Willy,  dear, 
Hf  rhadwiiigs,  l' would  fiy  to  you. 
bJee  \Vhat'  the  force  of  true  IbVe  can  do: 

There's  one  t^nng^ibore  that' does  grieViB 
\,    .   my  mind, 

My  Willy  dear,  has  proved  unkind. 
For  wheii  he  is  crossing  th^'  we&tern 
!        .  ,  sliore,       . 

fle'll  ne'er  think  of  his  true  love  ihoVe^ 
r  wikli  1  was  libw  wiifj  my  sweetheart, 
l^ihiiig  here  alone  breaks  my  poor  heart 
Votf  have  tWO  heaits,  novr,  but  I  have 
.  done,  , 

l^riy  gram  me  mine  love  and  keep  ybUr 
6wa^ 

Young  liien  will  come  to'  you  with  a 
^     ,    flattering  tongue  (won, 

And  tell  tWt  they  thiak  they  have  you 
The  noe  of  sight  they  R«*eout  of  mine, 
tfs  tear  to  one  bur  they'll  prove  nukiud. 

T hi^  laiire I  leaf  sta1 1  ba  nry  bed. 
The  hi^iiest  aiu^tji  g'jard  iny  heacf, 
IVb  thcrw  I  11  lie  'till  the  break  of  day, 
^*ad  pretty  sriaall  bifd^  firoand  me  piay.   ; 

Ntr  ^^  iiB  Lud  been  as  kriu^  ai  me, 

k'iA.  6ia|r  k^m  l^ve.  in  pover».y, 
i^  i%it  ^  Aia^nca,  where  pWoiv  ikhr^ 
's^9^'«i>  f»(  iuu#  witit  my  Wtliy  O. 


TO  tli«  wfal*,  to  the-west,  to  the  land  of  the  free,' 
NVherf  miuhty  Missouri  rolls  do* it  to  the  tea, 
W^^re  a  man  i»  a  man  ir  he's  willing- »o  tdil. 
And  the  humblest  may  oalher  th^  fruits  of  tl  e  soi* 
Wh»re  children  are'^^bie>sings.  &  hc'who  taiUmoit' 
Has  acid  fur  Lis  fortune,  and  riches  to  bo.st' 
Where  the  young  way  ex\ilt  Si.  the  aged  nwy  reft," 
A^iiy,  far  awSav  *  tu  the  lahdof  the  «voBti 

To  tti«  west,  tb^lt*  west,  to  the  land  of  tbefr^e, 
Where  niigUty  Missouri  rolls  dowii  lu  the  sea, 
Where  the  yuung  may  exult  &  the  agv^d  may  test' 
▲way,  far  avay,  tu  lUe  beautiful  wai,- 

To  t\ii  weal,  t«  the  've«f,  where  tlie  n'rsrs  tliatfow' 
Run  thousuAiis  Of  mile*,  spi^eadiug  out  as  they  gm' 
where  the  green  waying  forest  shall  echo  our  call 
As  wide  as' old  EnglaHd,  and  free  for  us  all. 
where  the  pt'ai'rea  like  seas  where  the  billows  hare' 

roUd    ^      ^      .  ._      . 

Are  broad  astHe  krogdoins  and'i^rnpires  6f  old. 
where  thie  lakes  are  dke  ooeuns  in  stomi  or  in  rest 
Awa\,  far  aWay  !  to  the  land  of  the  west. 

To  the  wiSt   kc 


To  the  wtat',  im  the  waat  there*s  wea it'^  tu  bs  woa^ 
Tke  foie&c  tq  clear  istbc  witrk  tu  bv  doi  e. 
we'fl  try  it»  #eMl  do  it  and  never  de  pair 
while  there's  light  io  the  suukhinu'  or  b.eath  in  the 

The  bold  iBdepHeoance  that  laboi'ir  crtR  buy 
Hhall  tti«ai;th««  omt  hands  a»d  foibid  us  to  sigh 
Away,  far  aiway  !  I«t  us  hope  fur  the  best 
▲ad  bvuM  ttf  a  kiMie  in  the  laad  of  tU*  we«t. 

fvtikcicfirW 


BLARNEY    AND   BOTHIMIING  \V4YS 


I  H A  D  A  F  LO  VV  E II 

XV^  SIT  OAKDEXr  GUOWING* 

I  had  a   flower  within    my    garden 

growing^ 
I  nourished  it    with  fond  and  anxious 

care, 
Rich  in  its  charm's,  of  nature's  own 

disposin<r, 
OF  ti»ts  imrivall'd  and  with  fragrance 

rare. 
In  an  evil  hour  there  came  about  my 

d^^eUin?. 
One  who  had  blighted  many  a  flower 

before, 
He   saw   my  gem,  In  mnocence    ex- 

celling  ;     .         ....  . 

Me  smiled  ui  on  U  and  it  bloomed  no 

moie, 

lie  saw  my  jrem,  &c. 

Next  day  I  found  it  withered  and  dc- 
i  graded 

*'  Tlirown  bv  thespoiler  carelessly  away 
lis  fragrance  gone,  its  various  beauties 

faded 
Despised,  forsaken-  hast'mnif  to  decay. 
Vainly   1   struv«  the  faded   fllower  to 

cherish, 
f^'ought  now  remains  of  what  was  once 
I  so  dear. 

'  Only  with  life  c^n  fond  remembrance 
perish 
Or  cea^e  to  flow  the  unavailing  tear. 

BLARNEY     AND     BO- 


BROGU 


THEKING    WAYS; 


T  is  true  wbat  I  say,  by  the  powe«  ahovo, 
rm  geltin^  quite  lat  ihougli  I  livf  u\nus  l..\p. 
With  my  brogue  and  my  blarney  ttud  both'ring 
ways. 

PIve  gweethearts  Tve  got,  and  sore  I'm  itulin'd 
To  marry  lier  first,   who's  first  ia  ll>e  mind  ; 
£  se«  them  all  round  in  the  coar8«  or  each   day, 
And  do  all  I  can  to  make  tbeir  beirts  gay, 
Witb  my  brogue  and  ray  blarney,  &  l)t»tbering 
ways, 

Tbe  first  is  a  €pinstet-a  bit  past  hor  prime, 
I  oaU  every  raorniu^'  about  breaklust  time. 
With  my  brogufi,  &c. 
4     K.  KODGES,   from   PITTS',  Wholesale   Tcy  &  Marble    Warehouse  SI    lu.l.y     .t, 


r  till  her  that  she  c.\n  of  «;real  bcn-.jtv  boiiVf, 
As  I  swall(»w  tlie  «;<  HVe,   iho  og<:s,  ;;nfi  (li^  Uni>t 
T  speak  qnit-c  refip»'ctfnl^  antl  hofu?  tl-.tit  my  iiH. 
May  be  soonjoiird  to  Ijer's  in  tbo  cotiuKh&l  b1ati\ 

M'jth  m\  brogne,  icn. 
At  hiTi(heoM  I  i;o  to  a  <harniin{^  (ock  shop. 
On  the  austiess,  sweet  Mistress  i\ial(j»cy  1  dfnp 

W.th  my  brogue,  &ic. 
1  squeeze  her,  I  press  her,   1  ogh'  aivfl  SvU; 
She'll  bav«  me  ai  soon  as  her  hiish.imi  '-oi-)?  a\e 
He  lies  sick  abed,  likf  a  fowl  with  t|ip  csK^np. 
Sj  I  plt-'djc^  her  britihl  eye«  in — a  ba^jju  ui  *<)« 

With  ju}  brogue,  Sic. 

A  buxonf*  yOMP.j;  r^idow,  I  think  it  no  rrime, 
Accidentallv  to  cail  ^n  about  diiuK.'!  *ii::o. 

With  my  brogue,   kc. 
She  takes  oft"  the  cover— I  see  the  hocf  smoke., 
She  cu?8  me  a  slice,  and  I  cnt  hff— ii  j-ke  ; 
She's  two  little  childcr,  so  I  make  a  ,-,iir — 
1  kiss  both  the  Wiiider.  and — Un.-a  1  ki>!<  he.r. 

Wi;h  ni)  brogue,  Sec. 

When   with    t'le  young  widow's*  o-JJ    wine*    I've 

madt'  free 
I  itart  oft' in  has'.e,   with  the  foiirih  U>  J.iko  tea. 

W"itii  nu    liit.^M*',  &:f. 
An  old  maiti.  whis?  hu-.baud   niiis!  sure  \ni  her 

nurse, 
But  och  !    wknt  of  that.   u.<  sue  han  a  hititf  pHi^^*« 
Surrounded  she  i«  b\  cats,   kil(»-iiv;,  and    pripu, 
Sooftca  1  nvkewi'h  her  about  iitUvu  onps, 
M'iili  niy  bro>,iHi,  5ic. 

Th«»  fifth  is  a  lady,  faith  !   richer  tjiim  ail. 

She  thinks  ISv.  h;mdsoine,  ;tUI:()u^li  Irw  not  tn^ 

\Vi!h  m)  brogiio,  &e. 
I  an  there  to  suppi  r — 'tis  hy  her  d^fjirp, 
I  vai  and  1  diink.   «nd  I  si(  by  the  fire  ; 
Allh«)"  on  her  back  she  1  as  oot  »  trrett  liim^i 
I  ciake  her  a  Judy  by  drinkini;-  lre<-  J'tJjKii, 

With  my  brogue^  5lC. 

After  drinking  the  punth,  i  f<el  itu^in'ti  far  a  imp 
So  I  tie  on  uiv  haudkerthief  U.r  a  j,ij,nl-i-H4j, 

With  my  brogne,  &ic, 
1  bit  there  awd  d.  xe,  and  nod  while  1  \v(m,, 
Shu  tells  me  she  lic^pes  that  a.>,liuw  Mi  b<«  irtw* 
If  I  «hou!d  ptove  fiUe,  she  hu  ev « i  w.^ilH  wc^-p 
So  i  swear  to  be  c<instant,  &  s!o^  liuie  io  tJtx-p 

With  uiV   Lr'jgue,   S^c, 

When  first  1  b;'gan  i  was  as  ti.in  a?  fi  ral, 

1  «m  now  like  vn  Ahlenniin,  },>-;;i:-.;;  quite  fat 

\\  ith  u:.y  brc^gue,  k-. 
To  gismmon  a  meal  out  of  eat. i>  I  c<iutriv»^. 
Aid.  faith  if  i  could,  1  would   nmny  ail  hve, 
For  the\'re  all  V'try  rich,  as  I  told   yon  betovB 
I'd  bury  them — then  I'd  go  courting  live  luure, 

Willi  my  brogue,  &o. 


r" 


THE 


BODGES,  Printer,   (from  PlTTs)  WhoJ,e 

•ttle  loy  and  M  arbie  WarehcuEe,3i 
f .         Street  7  Dials. 


I  Parody  on  the  Englishmai}, 

Lr  T^^  '  *^^"*  b*'ars  «n  ilifgant  name;      ^,\, 

Z~         •-*'  ^^°  <^*'^®  say  ''is  not  ?  j!:. 

1  Was  born  one  day  4n  Balivporane^      ^k 
^      In  a  Date  lit) le  mud  built  cot,  ^"Jl 

Myfather  he  was  the  |iride  of  the  boyj,  ' 
hi    And  ray  moiher  she  was  the  same,  *v 

k  And  that  is  the  rasou  aay  homes  d  ye  see, 
w      That  I  got  buch  all  elephant  aaip.e^ 
:  I'm  the  broth  of  a  boy,  deny  it  who  tan; 

And  mv  mother  she's  a  true  born  IriuhuiaD. 

Sure  an  Irishman  will  fight  like  the  devil 
hiiTiself, 
And  fright  him  you  never  can,  known 

They're  the  bravest    of  boys  that  ever  was 

Kv€r  since  tl»e  world  began, 
For  with  whisky  in  head  and  sbillala  in  fiit, 

Lik«  deviis  they'll  fight  d'\e  see, 
Tbeyr  iieer  say  ihey*ie  kilt  till  they're  mur- 

thf  red  quite. 
And  sure  thai^s  the  way  wid  me. 

For  I'm  the  broth,  &o. 

Sure  Ireland  it  is  an  illegant  place, 
\      And  that  i  suppose  you  have  heard, 

f  I'sthe  greatest  place  that  ever  was  foiit;td» 

It  is  take  an  Irishman's  word. 
:  Ifor  tlwere's  not  a  place  throughout  'ht  world 
*      Where  the  boys  are  eo  brave  and  free, 

Yov  may  t:ilk  of  your  true  born  Suglisbifian 
r|     But  Ireland  yet  for  me. 
<   t « the  laud  of  pia'ers,  deny  it  who  cflQ^ 

%  ^gA  I  ma  a  true  bwA  Iiiahiawk 


< 


\ 


o 
o 

m 

0 


0 

0 


.> 


T^,^^^  W'  re  seven  gypsies  all  in  a  gatg^ 

They  \vi  re  brisk  and  bonny  O, 
•  hey  rode  till  they  c^me  to  the  Earl  of  CastV* 

houi^e. 
A  nd  there  tl  ev  sung  most  sweetly  O,     , 
The  Sail  cf  Castle's  lady  came  down        *" 
W  ith  i>er  ws  iting  maid  beside  her  O  ' 

As  soon  as  her  face  th'  y  saw, 
Tbey  cast  tbcglanifs  (spellh)  over  her  O. 

They  gave  to  hef  a  i.utmeg  hrown^ 
Which  WQ«  of  the  Belinger  O,  '' 

She  gave  to  them  a  f  <r  better  thing. 
The  rinfif  from  oif  her  finger  O.  ^' 

She  pulled  off  her  hei  led  shoes, 
The^  were  made  of  Span  sh  leather  O 
She  put  on  her  highland  brogues* 
To  follow  the  gipsy  laddie  O. 

At  night  when  my  gooi  lord  came  bomt* 
Enquiring  for  his  lady  O,  , 

Tl e  «a  ting  maid  made  this  reply,  .  'A 
She's  to'lowing  the  gipsy  Laddie  O,  ||l^ 
Come  saddle  my  milk  white  steed,  -^ 

C«  me  saddle  it  so  bonny  O, 
Thai  I  may  go  and  seek  ray  own  wedded  wife 
tVho's  fbl  ow  ng  the  gypsy  laddy  O. 

Have  you  been  east,  have  you  been  west^ 
Or  have  jou  beeu  bri^k  and  bonny  0» 
Or  have  you  seen  a  gay  lady. 
Following  a  gipsy  laddie,  O,  / 

He  rode  ail  the  summer's  nighff '  7 

And  part  of  the  next  morning  O, 
At  lei'g  h  he  espied  his  own  wedded  wife, 
Slie  w^as  cold,  wet,  and   wtary  O,  ^ 

O  why  did  yi'U  'pave  your  houses  and  land*, 

O  why  did  jou  leavi*  joar  moaey  O, 

Or  why  di^^  you  leave  your  own  wedded  k)Vt 

To  fi.l'ow  thegyi'sy  laddie  O. 

Q  what  tare  1  for  buuseii  and  lands, 

Oi  wl  at  car6  i  for  money  O. 

So  as  1  have  hrewed,  so  will  I  remaia* 

So  fa  e  you  wrll  my  hot;ey  G. 

'I  bro  wir»  S'  ven  g  psi»s  iu  a  gang. 

They  weie  b  isk  and  bonny  O. 

jk.  d  iht  v're  o  he  l.a  ged  al'  in  a  coWy 

la    !be*li;a'IofCi.»tl   ftLady  O.      ' 


/ 


/ass 


rown. 


MISS 

W  H  1  r  E  Y  B  R  <>  W  N 


Niggar    Parody    on    **  M<jlly    Bawn.* 


E.  Ho.l^ps,  tVojn   IMT  IS  U  lj«,lesale  Toy  and 
MniMe   VVai'^iioiisc,  ^    Strei^t,   7  Dials. 


ISS   Wliitcy brown,  oh  hear  me 


winning : 
I'm  frozed  a  waiting  here  for  yoti, 
Perhaps  you  hab  gone  out  a  (lining, 
,      Or  sometin  more  ticklar  to  do. 
If  I'd  a  known  dis,  I'd  been  sleeping, 
Or  {jone  to  ball  and  daneed  ''  a  tew  ••' 
;  Lorks !  here's  an  alligator  creeping, 
1     He'll  swallow  me  like  Irish  stew. 

-'  I'm  borrow 'd  top-i)oots  from  a  groom, 

!        lub, 
» •     I'm  stole  about  a  pint  ob  wine, 
■  I  fought  dis  night  I  should  meet  you,  lub, 
,'     Dat  we  might  cut  it  '  fus  rar^  tine." 
[  111  hang  myself  up  as  a  warning, 
I'll  tie  de  noose  to  yonder  tree, 
'  Aind  wh^c  yon  jooks  out  in  de  mowi'n^. 
f^yc-w:  iaiihful  Sambo  corps'd  will  s^^. 


LA  HllY    O-HRIAN 

¥   /\Al    \nu\\  ntniiiM  Uow  tli*' ocean, 

^      Wliife  iir«^    l)|t»o«l,  :in<l  l»ulls  are  in  tnotioOy 

.\ii(J  i'li  li^lilMfl;;  I  (le'er  hi  I  a  notion, 

il  will  iievut  <iu  t  r  Lasts  O'Uiiaii, 
I  c«Mii<l  Im)X  'Ml  ill.-  slior»s  likt?  a  S(mi  of  n  w — c, 

I    c.  nhi  knoik  tin*  <ioi;^  Ijy  iiiy  soul  half  ii  scor(% 
I  ne'ci    tlioii^h'  it  rl,  v«^r  for  balls  to  knuck  out  lb* 
ItvtT  of  |MK»r  Larry, 

]^l<»o«l  and  onus  !  wlitre's  the  {?ahy  that*Il  inaUFFf 
It  will  iK-vtr  do  tin-  Lirry  O  IMan. 
•    I  am  .so  liyiii  tiiut  no  one  will  cojne  near  me. 
And  fur  wil  I'i;  (;ni;.air«>  n  »  o:  e  <an  <'onje  np  to  me, 

An<'  for  li^liuni;,  tli>  y  vvtf*yll  ne«-(l  to   (oar   nie, 
Tliey  W.I  I  (iwl  tu*  ir  match  itt^Larry  O'Biian. 


So  li;iht  anil  so  Cii'.c  wlien  1  first  wont  to  sea  ; 

Who  tho  <levil  .should  ihet  p-jp  in  olfice  but  me  ? 
Wtth  my  scraper,  huw  I  vapunr,  blood    and    ouns ! 
they  made  a  sweeper  «>f  poor  liarry, 

niood&ouns  !  wbf'ie  is  ihe  gilhv-that  would  tarry. 
It  will  never  do  for  poor  Larry  C Brian- 

There  is  a  dirty  liltle  midshipman  milksop. 
And  he  order*  me  up  to  the  tip  top. 

And  then  my  he  id  went   routjd  like  u   whiplop. 
It  was  crml  to  Lairs  O'lirku 


A  sailor,  lie  went  up  and  let  (jpwn  a  rope, 
And  they  tied  it  round  my  middle, 

And  hauled  me   up>  I    kept   squeaking,  I  kept 
squeaking, 

While  tl»e  devils  (hey  kept  haulinjr  ^  uoor  Larry, 
:      Whilst  the  sea  was  a  bubbling;,      ^  ^ 

?  My  atonnich  was  sorely  grumbliu 
^  I  wish'd  myself  safe  in  Duldin, 
.  Safe  landed  poor  Larry  O' Brian. 

'  r- 

'      The  first  thinj;  they  gave  me  was  like  a  sack, 

Wiiere  one  cut  me  down,  by  my  soul  broke  my 
I  neck, 

!      Where  they  whipt  me  and  stript  me,  ' 

I  Such  a  f.ijjgin:'-  sure  they  tipt  me,  O  poor  I^rry. 

The  next  thing  tiiey  all  went  to  fighting, 
I  A  thing  that  I  ne*er  took  delight  in, 
'      A  nasty  dirty  trick,  thus  to  frighteo* 
'  The  poor  devil  Larry  O'Brian, 
And  there  wood  and  shot. 
And  the  devil  knows  what^ 
i  <^uld  «iol  tell   whether  my  head  waa  on  or  not, 

But  free  i^om  pain,  1  left  the  main. 
And  the  devi^  "uav  go  there  again  for  ooor  Larrv* 


E.    HODGES     Printer,    Wholesale    Toy 
«ad  Afwrble  Warehouse*,  26,   Grafton  Street 
Soho,  London  —  Wl.ere  apward*  of  100,000 
^ongs  are  constantly  on  sale 


'Hill 

TOPSY  neber  was  born, 

Neber  had  a  moder, 
^Spect«  I  j^row'tl  a  nig^ger  brat, 

Jist  like  any  other 
Whip  me  tiil  the  blood  pours  down. 

Old  missus  used  to  do  it, 
She  said  she'd  cul  try  heart  light  tut, 

Bat  never  could  get  to  it 
Got  no  heart  1  don't  beiieve, 

Ni{;<;tTs  do  without  'em, 
Keber  heard  of  God  or  love, 

So  can't  tfll  much  about  em. 
This  is  T<xpsy*a  sav  v<  sonjj, 

Topsy  cute  and  clever. 

Hurrah  then  for  the  white  man*s  ligbft. 

Slavery  for  ever. 

I  '^pec*s  I*se  very  wicked. 

That  6  jist  what  1  am  — 
Only  you  jist  give  ire  chance, 

W  ant  i  roufl3  Old  Sam 
Tfiint  no  use  in  being  good, 

'Cos  I  se  black  \ou  see. 
I  neber  cared  for  nothing  yet. 

And  nothing  cares  for  me. 
Ha.  ha   ha,  Miss  Feely's  hand. 

Dun  know  bow  to  grip  me, 
Kebtr  likes  to  do  no  work. 

And  wont  without  they  whip  me. 

This  is  'Topsj's,  &c 

Don  t  you  die  Miss  Eva, 

Elstt  (  go  doiid  too. 
I  knows  I'se  wicked,  but  I'll  try, 

To  be  all  good  to  you, 
You  have  tauj;ht  nie  belter  ting«,  ^ 

Though  Phe  nigger  skin, 
You  have  found  poor  Topsy*s  heart. 

Spite  of  all  its  ^in 
|]on't  you  die  Vlisn  Eva, 

Else  1  go  dead  too. 
Though  I  se  black  I'se  sure  that  God 

Will  let  me  go  with  you 
This  isTop»y*s  humao  song 

Under  lovo  »  endeavour, 
JKur'aii  then  for  the  white  obilds  work 
Humanity  for  ever  t 


The  rout  has  come  this  afternoon,  that  we  mutt 

march   to-raorrow, 
And  many  are  the  pretty  girls  we  leave  io  grief 

and  sorrow, 
Maoy  is  the  pretty  girls,  crying  out  phillilloo, 
Since  the  rifle  boys  has  got  the  rout,    oh,    dear, 

what  shall  we  do. 

I  will  set  down  and  praise  my  love,  I'll  do  it  if  I 

can, 
He  has  got  as  handsome  a  leg  and  thigh  as  any 

other  man. 
His  eherry   cheeks   and   ruby   lips,   like  wist   a 

sparkling  eye, 
Upon  my  life  I'll  be  his  wife,  or  for  his  sake  I'll 

die. 

Says   the  mother  to  the  daughter,  what  makdc 

you  speak  so  strange, 
To  marry  a  soldier  the  wide  world  to  range  ; 
For  soldiers  are   such  rambling  boySi   and    hare 

suck  littl«  pay, 
How  can  a  man  support  a  wife  on  thirteen-penc« 

a  day. 
Says'the  daughter  to  the  mother  what  makes  yo« 

run  them  down, 
For  many   is   the  farmer's  sonbelongiag  to  th« 

crown, 
Many  Is  the  farmer'r  son  my  love  do  excel, 
With  fife  and  dru;  .  before  him  1  like  his  courage 

well 
Says  the  mother  to  the  daughter,  Ml  confine  yo« 

to  a  room, 
Until  all  those  soldiers  do  go  out  of  town, 
If  you  was  to  confine  me  seven  long  years,    and 

then  to  set  me  free. 
It's  down  the  country  J  will  go  my  rifle  boy  to  see 

If  you  were  to  see  them  moving  when  the  areoa 

parade, 
With  their  fife    and   drum  beiore   them,   how 

merrily  they  do  play 
with  their  three  cock'd  bat  and  scarlet  coat,  they 

are  dress'd  so  neat  and  clean. 
And  my  curse  attend  girls  that  would  not   follow 

them. 

Then  up  came  the  drum  major  with   bis   corded 

drum, 
he  beat  at  six  in^he  morning,   and  four   in  th« 

afternoon 
be  beats  up  with  such  courage  and  makes  such  a 

glorious  noise, 
which  mak(s  the  girls  of  every  town  to  follow  th« 

rifle  boys. 


GIREEN  !^LE 

jj|k  E.  Hudj;e8,  Prii^ter,  Toy  and  Marble  warehouM 
^  31  Dudley  St.  7  Dials. 


— ' ^ 


PLOUSH  BOY 


^OME  all  joo  pretty  maiden*  gay 

And  listen  unto  me, 
Will  you  Wtd  with  a  sa\ic\  plough  boy, 

VVbose  heart  is  light  aad  tree. 

If  or  the  plough  bo}S  tlicy  are  merry  lad*. 

'J  o  tbe  fields  lliey  haste  away, 
WLtltf  the  pretty  inuid:!  art  milking. 

Or  making  ef  sweet  hay, 

i^ll  rise  itt  the  moriiinj;«eaily. 

And  trip  akxig  with  jo^*, 
While  the  smali  birds  siugso  'chaitaing, 

I'm  a  saut-y  plunghing  buy. 

^oe  tbe  lambs  how  they  art'  ^portm*. 

And  we  «ill  kiss  and  toy 
I've  hilver  in  iu\  p«>c.  et  luvet 

A  saucy  plt>ii^hing  b  »3.. 

I  am  kind  and  free  h flatted. 

No  <:  •'«  shall  me  amiuy^ 
I'm  f  oltc  oine  atid  ea»*y 

A  sauuy  fikrmer'si  boy. 

The\  lov  •  for  to  be  danc  ng, 
Th«.j  ar»' JDVial  an 'I  so  fie-^. 
Come  along  \<}u  «aucy  plougli  boy, 
No  oth  r  Kids  for  me. 

Hnt  mark  retuiong  Ironre  again, 
Wln'n  B  irwl  ing  ttiev  liave  been, 

The  nnsailows  bok  so  icliarmiutf  love. 
Will  you  w€dr  U)e  gowu  &\i  gTt  eii. 

Dp  i»oi  i»ase  me,  y<.u  ran  please  me, 
This  dnmticl  siie  wou  d  cry. 

And     itii  nn  8«iicy  ptoti-'b  bwy, 
i  m  uuto  4ve  and  cie. 


^LONIC  as  I  roved  by  Jhe  Bandon  river  side; 

Quite  serious  one  morning  in  June, 
When  Verdure  bedeck'd  the  meadows  so  greeo. 

And  cowfel  ps  spontaneously  in  bloom  ; 
Involved  in  deep  sorrow  afflictoned  in  woe. 

Id  <le«  p  couhternation  in  anguish  to  know,     / 
rt^t  fortune  is  fickle  &  fiiends  are  laid  low. 

In  tbe  bosom  of  E tin's  green  Isle^ 

Oh  !  dear  native  valley  what  changes  are  made. 

In  your  beautiful  pastures  so  green, 
Whereoftin  tbe  wood  nympbreclia'din  thysbftdo 

\N  nh  venus  the  cyprian  queen, 
Vour  Sons  were  courageous,  your  daughters  fair^ 

Your  vallies  maileptius  &  pure  was  your  air. 
The  p'ains  of  Aniica  eould  never  compare, 

Wiih  the  surpee  of  Erin's  gseen  Isle. 

Oh  sweet  rural  nympb  how  attractive  each  feature 
What  magnet  resides  on  each  smile, 

'1  he  boast  of  perfection  the  pride  of  dame  oatuFo 
Your  grattofs  bedeck'd  in  gav  stile. 

The  love  thrush  and  linnet  are  ail  in  your  gladn 
No  veneuious  serpnts  are  seen  in  iby  shade^i. 

Yes  in  cold  death's  embrsce  for  ever  are  laid 
My  ancestors  in  Erin's  green  1  sle. 

Oh  were  I  t'ansported  to  africa's  shore. 

And  parted  dear  Eiin  with  thee. 
Or  txile*  for  ever  from  her  I  adore. 

How  sad  myc  nditioa  would  be. 
No  illtere^tig  )>fft.cti(n  could  equalize  mine. 

In  He«p  pr« hobation  to  Lngoish  and  pine. 
To  sigh  for  my  country  and  friends  who  reside* 
lu  tue  bosom  of  Erin  s  green  Isle. 

When  the  lust  vital  sp irk  was  lovering  about, 
ntbe  confines  of  deaths  gloomy  vale. 
Ai)d  the  gbost-^  of  Er  n  remembreth  the  sound. 

wbi  u  I  rtiterM  this  dark  dismol  dale. 
The  glei«  of  \]i>iem  shall  nna  witit  my  name, 
Thu  tl)e  blind  guckiess  fortune  nevei  sounded 
my  fame, 
Carieii  will  smile  when  he  finds  that  I  came, 
From  the  borders  of  Erm^s  g  een  isle. 

Farewell  tiiou  vernal  and  favourite  spot. 
Thou  art  placed  in  a  t-  nipeinte  z<>ne, 
f(^  The  name  of  Erin  shall  nevi  r  be  forgot, 
^H^        (n  Ive  aunals  i  f  Itistory  well  known, 
l^l'   The  lan-l*  of  m\  fathers  were -uperbL  arraid,      '^ 
V^  when  tiiey  Ined  in  ^iSlueiFCe  &  dress'd  iu  broctf^o 
^&  Mav  our  4  >u]s  dwell  ia  l»Us5  wlieu  our  bodies  are 
Ijjjlf'i'       For  e?cr  iu  £  in  b  green  Ji>k.  ^    (^^^ 


W9Zv 


JBOLD  ROBIN  HOOD 


|IoDGT?s    fr  )in  (I.  FI  r  rs.")  Prijifer, 

Streeijlate '  Street 

Seven  Dials.  Whore  may  be  had  a 
great  Variety  of  Old  and  New  Songs 
always  ready,  country  Orders  sent  to 
any  part  of  the  World. 

J^old  Robin  Hood  was  a  forrester  good. 
As  ever  pujl'd  how  in  merry  green  wood 
And  the  wild  deer  we  wiii  follow: 

There  U  none  so  bonny,  blithe  and  gay' 
As  Mary  the  pride  of  the  morning* 

Little  John  wirli  hiscoura^^e  so  strong 
And  he  conquered  them  all  with  his  hey 

ding  d()ng» 
I   "^Vith  his  bii^le  born  he  echoed: 

His  bugle  horn  he  echoed. 

There  is  none  so  bonny,  blythe  and  gay 

As  Mary,  the  pride  of  the  mornins^: 

i3old  ivobin  4ool1j«-^. 

CADl^EIlS    BALU 

Tane — Joe  Buggins. 

vlh,  what  a  spicy  flare  up,  tear  up. 

Festival  Terpsickory, 
"Was  guved  by  liif  genti^el  cadgers 

In  the  famous  Rool^ei  v. 
As  soon  as  i'  ixot  vind,  however, 

Old  St.  G  l^s's  vos  to  fall— 
Tiioy  all  dccl  u'd,  so  help  theif  never. 

They'd  vind  up  vith  a  stunnin'  bail. 

To!  lol,  &c. 

.Tack  Flipflap  took  the  alTair  in  hand,  sirs. 

Who  nnderstoed  the  thing  co  nplete, 
He'd  often  danced  afore  the  public, 

On  the  boards  about  the  streets, 
Old  Mother  Swimkey  slie  concented 

To  ii^nd  her  lodf^in,:^ -house  for  nix — 
Says  she,  'The  crib  coraes  down  to  morrow/ 

So  go  it,  just  Uke  beaus  and  bricks. 

Tol  lol,  &c. 

TI»e  night  arrived  for  trotter  shaking — 

To  Mother  Swankcy's  snoozing'  crib 
^ch  douney'cadger  was  seen  taking 

His  bit  of  muslin,  or  his  rib. 
♦JTwelve  candles  vos  stuck  into  turni'ps, 

Suspended  from  the  ceiling-  queer- 
Dunn**  blaze  of  triumph'  was  all  pickhes, 

Xo  lliis  wegetal^le  sbaudileer.  TqI  lol;  &c 


A  LL« 


Ru^a^od  Jack,  wa*  cha  Iks  *  Starvation* 

Look'd  quite  fat  and  swollish  there. 
While  Dick,  wot  durabs  it,  round  the  nations' 

Had  all  tlie  jaw  among  tlie  (air. 
Limping  Ned,  wot  brought  bis  duchess. 

At  home  bad  left  his  wooden  pegs. 
And  Jim,  wot  cadges  it  on  crutches, 

Vos  tke  nimblest  covey  on  kis  legs.      Tol  lol  &o» 

The  next  arrival  was  old  Joe  Burn, 
Wot  does  the  fits  to  Nature  cbnff, 

And  Fogg,  wot's  blind  each  day  in  Ho'bern, 
Saw'd  his  way  there  clear  enough, 

Mr  Sinniwating  Sparrow 

^   In  corduroys  span  new  and  nice. 

Drove  up  in  his  pine-apple  barrow, 

Vhich  he  us'd  to  sell  a  win  a  slice,     Tol  lot  & 

The  ball  was  opned  by  fat  Mary, 

Togg'd  out    in  book   muslin  pmo; 
And  Saucy  Sam  surnamed  the  Lary,  § 

Who  did  the  Miunit-on  a-squre, 
While  suticating  Charley  Coker, 

And  Jane  of  the  hatchet  face  dfvine 
Just  did  the  Rowdydowy  Poker, 

And  out  of  Greasy  took  the  sbioa,     Tol  loi  Sec 

The  Sileywarious  nozt  was  done  in 

Tiptop  style,  just  as  it  sJiould 
Dy  Muster  and  Mussus  Mudfog,  stunning. 

Whose  hair  curlM  likaa  hunch  of  wood. 
The  folks  grinn*d  all  about  their  faces 

'Cos  Mudfog,  prince  ol  flashy  bucks 
Had  on  a  pair  of  pillow  cases. 

Transmogrified  slap  into  ducts,  Tol  lol  &« 

The  celebrated  Pass  de  Sandwich, 

To  join  in  no  one  conld  refuse 
Six  bushels  on  *em  came  in  and  which 

Wanished  in  about  two  two's, 
The  Garter   WaKz  next  followed  arter 

They  lapp'd  it  down  right  tnanfully, 
Until  Joe  GulFin  and  his  d.'.rter. 

Was  in  a  state  of  Four-penny,  Tol  lol  SiC* 

Next  came  the  P;5ss  de  Pa-^.inntion, 

Beiwixl  Peg  Prince  and  Dumby  Dick, 
But  Peg  luid  sicb  a  corporation. 

He  dropp'd  her  like  a  reii  kot  brick 
The  company  was  so  enraptur'd. 

They  bnckets  of  val  flowers  thew. 
But  o.ie  chap  flung  a  bunch  of  turnips, 

Vich  nearly  split  Dick's  nut  in  two«     Tol  lol  &o 

Th-3  d  H3  now  set  to  galiopadiii^ 

And  stamp'd  with  all  their  might  and  main, 
ITjey  thump'd  the  floor  so  precious  hard  in. 

It  split  the  ancieut  crib  in  twain 
Some  pitch'd  in   the   road   bent   double. 

Some  was  smasl/d  with  bricks,  done  brown ; 
So  the  cadgers  sav'd  *  Tlie  Crown'  the  trouble. 

Of  sending  Coves  to  pull  it  4owo.        Tel  lol  &Af. 


JOO'S    FAKTl 

UNKNOWN  TO  HIS  WlFBt 

And  we  heard  bcr  exciHibi,  "  You  shan't  have  I^ 
AS  1  VIEW  THOSE  SCENES  thai^sflat!** 

!^  So  we  called  out,  •*  oh  Johnson,  we  would  not 

SO  CHARM IN-G      S       •""""""" 


^S  I  view  those  scenes  so  charming, 

With  fond  remembrance  my  heart 
is  warniing, 

Of  days  lonj;  vanished  ; 
Oh,  my  breast  is  filled  with  pain, 
Finding  objects  that  still  remain, 
•vhile  those  days  come  not  again, 

Maid,  those  bright  eyes  juy  heart  im- 

pressing. 
Fill  my  heart  with  fhoiights  distressing 
By  recalling  an  earthly  blessin;^, 

Long  since  dead  and  passed  away  : 
She  was  like  thee,  ere  death  oppressing 

Sunk  her  beauty  to  decay. 


JOHNS   PARTY 

unknown  to  his  wife. 

^^AYS  Jennings,  "  Juhu  Juhn-son'sa  prime 
*       sort  of  i'ellov*-. 

AUh(Hig;li  ht^  is  apt  to  get  ra»her  too  m*»I!ow, 
Bat  liit'o  l)^'*.'*  tlio  host  tempered  man  in  the  laud,  ' 
Aod  his  soul's  in  his  muuili,  and  liis  heart  in  his  ' 
hand.  i 

I<a8t  week,  he  and  I,  and  some  birds  of  a  feather,  i 
Mere  raking  onr  grog  at  a  tavorn  together,  ! 

^^  ht-n  he,  without  a.skirr.^-  his  \vit"«-  if  he  might,       ' 
liivited  us  with  him  to  sup  on  next  night.  \ 

*^Tis  wrong  in  a  husband  on  any  coudiiion,  ; 

Ti>  invite  wiiltout  gftt'ng  his  lad\'j  permission,    i 
Aiid  \et  1  ne'er  had  so  mncli  fun  in  my  life. 
As  I  had  at  John's  party  unknown  to  liis  wife. 

W^^hen  we  went,  as  slie  had  not  been  a>;k'd  to  in- 
vite us, 
She  did  uU  she  could  in  ill- humour  to  spite  us — 
iti^hc  slummed  to  the  doors,  and  ('id  nothing  but 

Scold, 
Th?n  in  serving  the  sup|<e*r,  she  serv'd  it  up  cold. 
This    v<  .\  d   Master  Johuoy,  who   thrcaten'd   to 

n>atch  her, 
At^d  ws  nt  in  next  room  where  he  swore  he  would 

thrash  her 
If  it  wernn't  for  the  strnngers,  so  we,  at  the  fuss, 
Said>  "  Johnson,  you  ue*  d  not  make  strangers  of 
us.<« 

*Tis  wrong,  &c. 
I'nis  si'enc'd  my  lady,  and  we  with  the  sherry. 
The  port,  and  the  brandy,  began  to  be  merry, 
But  as  it  go:  late,  she,  rekindling  ber  ire, 
'Jo  bed  sent  the  servants,  and  put  out  the  fire. 
Then  off  wei  t  herself,  and  John  alter  to  tell  her, 
•'  My  dear,  you'vo  not   left  ui  the  key  of  the 


Tis  wrong,  &e»     | 
No  key  would  she  give  him  but  John  to  provoke  ^ 

her. 
Went  down  to  the  kitchen,  and  took  up  the  poker 
And  then  at  the  cellar  laid  siege  to  the  door» 
Resolv'd  to  have  one,  if  not  two,  bottles  more. 
We  followed  to  help  him,  at  least  in  the  drinking-. 
And  down  went  six  bottles  cur  throttles  like  wink* 

iog. 
T  en  Johnson,  put  valiant,  an  oath  took  that  be 
Would  make  Mrs.  J.  to  get  up  and  make  tea.       . 
Spoken. —That  he  would  !  he  would  see  who| 
was  master !  ««  Don't  you  go  my  boys  !   Ain*t  Wv9 
the  lords  of  the  creation  ?  And  should  we  give 
way  to  a  woman  ?  Never  ?*•  i 

•Tis  wrong,  &c«      ' 

He  said  he  would  do  it,  and  soon  set  about  it. 
And  whether  she  thought  we  would  not  go  with* 

4  ut  it, 
Or  found  opposition  but  brought  her  the  worst 
She  complied  with  his  whioi,  as  she  should  have 

at  first, 
This  pleased  Master  John,  who  began  to  caress 

her, 
Aud  swore  every  man  in  the  party  should  kiss 

her. 
We  were  ail  very  tipsy,  of  course  she  was  gall'd 
And  I  leave  you  to  guess  she  got  prettily  mauled. 
SpoKKN. — *iwas  the  primest  fun  in  the  world 
to  see  old  Jones.  '*  He  would  have  a  kiss,  that 
lie  would  I*  She  smack'd  his  face,  then  looked 
at  Johnson,  as  much  as  to  say — 

/Tis  wrong,  &c. 
Now  as  she  resisted  old  Jones  in  the  scuiTle 
Thev  both  of  ihem  tumll^d  down  over  the  scuttle, 
And  Johnson  exohtimed  *'  Don*t  you  help  her, 

my  souls, 
She*s  served  as  she  should  be,  hanl'd  over  the 

coals ! 
But  when  we  lift  the  house  we  all  heard  her  **  «d 

rat  him  1" 
And  when 

set  at  him. 

And  either  for  shame  or  some  other  pr«tence. 
Among  us  he's  not  shown  his  face  e'^*^  Since^' 
Spoken. — I've   no  doubt  he  caug'i*  H  finely, 
and  very  properly  too  !  For  though  iiis  pleasant 
to  see  a  woman  Teceive  a  huby's  vivSitorS  at  all 
times  with  smiles ;  nevertheless,  and  I  tell  it 
you,  married  men,  as  a  caution. 
*Tis  wrong  in  a  husband  on  any  condition. 
To  inyite  without  getting  his  lady's  permissioDi 
And  yet  1  ne'er  had  so  much  fun  in  my  life, 
AS  I  had  at  John's  party  unkown  to  his  wife. 

E.  HODGE'S  {From  PITT'S,)   Whol^'sgleSonff 
Mart,  Toy  and  Marble  Warehous,3l  y*^9 

7  Dials. 


we  were  gone  there's  no  doubt  sho 


PAT'S  CURIOSITY  SHOP 


Vou've  heard  t-ilk  of  Paddy'*  Museum— 

lis  modern  end  ancient  antiques  ; 
It  not.  when  you  li->ten  you'll  see  Vni, 

Of  their  fame  ould  Ireiend  speaks  ; 
I  was  ever  louk'd  on  as  a  loVfT,  ' 

Of  ancient  antiqueHfroin  my  birth. 
So  1  thought  I'd  a  right  I',  discover 

What  nobody  else  coul  1  on  earth. 

CHORUS. 

Oh.ii  fig  for  the  Briis'i  Museum, 

When  you  can  at  my  home  you  may  stop— 
You*i1  be  split  like  a  >totie  when  you  see  Vm 

At  Put's  Cuiiosity  Shop.      ^ 
I've  bolted  ten  times  through  the.globe,  sir. 

To  bring  all  the  wonders  away 
1  have  borrow'd  the  patience  of  Job,  gir. 

To  keep  me  awake  niirlit  and  day  i 
With  puUtene.'is,  oh,  ain't  I  been  treated,     - 

Never  kit,  thcmgh  twice  cut  in  two," 
Bat  you'll  stare  at  me  when  I've  repeated 
'     My  string  of  anliquiies  thro.igh. 

Tve  two,  more  than  all  I  take  pride  in, 

One's  Old  Mother  Shiptun's  birch  broom, 
On  which  the  old  gal  wmild   lly  stiiding, 

And  the  watch  of  il  e  Man  in  the  MooD  ; 
I've  a  frozen  ttani^  from  Mount  Etnaj 

Caught  by  a  man  passing  by —  i  t  <(     > 

A  siv  Cupid's  dart  forg'd  at  Gretna,        ^^     H     \ 

Wid  the  lash   of  Pope  Gregory's  eyo' 

I've  got  a  full  grown  alligator. 

That  in  sleep  turned  himself  inside  out, 
The  tail  of  the  Great  Agitator, 

Wid  a  knot  o'  the  first  Russian  knout^ 
r\e  a  pair  of  kid  shoes  made  of  Satin— 

A  nutmeg  as  big  as  your  head. 
The  chair  that  oh^  King  Canute  sat  in. 

And  a  cobweb  as  heavy  as  lead.  . 

I've  a  walking  stick  thick  as  uiy  arm,    ^ 

That  belonged  to  O'Brien  the  brave,   ■ 
l'\e  got  mother  Hubbard"'s  great  charm, 

Druwn'd  sailors  from  shipwreck  to  savei 
I've  the  bustle  of  Jupiter^s  mother, 

Wid  Mercury's  gran  imother''s  stays, 
And  Tve  got  the  steal  pen  of  my  brother, 

Wid  which  he  wrote  all  Snakespere's  plays* 

I've  got  doctor  Bushby's  old  table, 

^'he  cap  of  Bill  Somers  the  fool, 
Wid  the  roof  of  the  Tower  of  Babel, 

And  Prince  Donaguue's  three  legged  stool, 
I've  a  beetle  as  big  as  a  bowl, 

That  would  hold  twenty  gallons  or  more, 
Ar»d  the  very  identi\.al  roll 

TJjat  the  baker  gave  Mrs,  Jane  Shore. 
IVv  Jie  snont  of  old  Whittington's  cat, 

P..tch'd  coats  without  any  stiti-hes, 
Adam's  ^pade  and  his  four-and-nine  hat, 

Wid  a  pair  of  ould  King  David's  breeche^ 


I've  got  the  snufi'-box  of  Mahomet 

An  Irish  nobleman's  wig, 
Wid  Miss  Queen  Elizabeth's  bonnet  =*- 

And  tiio  brain  of  the  famed  learned  pig, 

I've  the  bone  of  a  sh'^ulder  of  the  mnitoa 

That  was  roasted  at  Antony's  f  a>t. 
And  a  beautiful  pearly  while  bu  ton, 

Otfthe  coat  of  an  ouldD  n  d  priest, 
IVe  got,  tro,  the  Harp  of  Tiin'>theus, 

That  play'd  Alexander  to  sl"ep. 
The  poker  wid  whi«h  he  kill'd  Clytos, 

Which  caused  all  the  couniry  to  weep, 

Pve  got  his  ^reat  horse's  tail,  too, 

Domitian's  long  ba'  cy  pipe. 
Cleopatra's  purple  silk  sail,  too. 

And  a  bee  twice  the  size  of  a  snipe  ; 
1  could  tell,  but  the  doctors  declare, 

More  singing  would  soon  turn  my  brain. 
But  some  other  time  I  don't  care, 

When  you  drop  in  to  sing  them  again. 
ENCORE  VERSES. 
Ob,  bother,  how  awkward  to  walk  off. 

More  wonders  I've  still  lelt  ("or  you. 
To  which  while  T  sing  will  talk  of, 

And  give  you  the  list  of  them  through, 
I've  got  Paganini's  great  fiddle, 

The  heel  of  ^t.  Patrick's  right  shoe; 
And  the  dagger  that  Othello  did  ail 

The  mischief  that  well  he  could  do. 
I've  a  bottle  of  wind  from  the  North, 

The  laddie  of  merry  King  Cole,  . 

A  modle  of  Justice  iu'frofh, 

With  a  chip  or  two  off  the  North  Pofe. 
I've  the  sandal  of  Caesar  from  Rome, 

A  cowcumber  forty  yards  ong. 
The  Emperor  of  China's  tooth  comb. 

And  the  words  of  a  young  merma  d's  song. 
I've  got  the  (lock-feather-stiaw  pillow. 

That  did  for  the  kids  in   the  Tower. 
With  old  Piiilip  Qiiarll's  u.i.brf  Ik. 

And  the  first  clot  k  that  struck  the  first  hoar. 
And,  among  other  things  I  havagot, 

A  Roman  cast  iron  tin  spoon. 
And  a  galvanized  watering  pot. 

And  a  petrifie-d  living  baboon 
I'v«  got  the  crook'd  horn  ofthe  cow,  too. 

That  first  took  a  mouthful  hay, 
As  wtli  as  the  string  of  the  bow,  too, 

Wid  which  Tell  shot  the  apple  away. 
Iv  e  some  nuts  that  no  power  can  crack. 

The  rope  upon  which  Guy  Fawkes  bung. 
The  humpofiPKing  Richards  h:uk, 

And  the  last  speech  that  Jack  ShepparJ  song. 

HODGES,  Printer,  (from  PlTTs)  Wholesa'^  Toy 
and  Marble  War.  house,  31.  Street^ ^  " 

Seveu    Dials. 


LAMENTATION 


FOR  HEH 


(^EORGY 


HODGES,  (from  PITT's)  Printer,  Wholesale 
anl  Retail  Tov  and  Marble  Warehouse, 
Street,  Seveo  Uials. 


t   A  s  I  rode  over  London  Bridjjo, 
'Twas  in  the  mornina:  early, 
Tlieredid  I  spy  a  maiden  fair, 
Lamenling  for  her  Georgy  ; 
Gj'orgy  nf'ver  s-tole  ox,  or  cow. 

Nor  calves  ho  never  stole  any, 
Six  of  the  King's  W  ito  Deer  he  stole. 
And  sold  ihem  to  Broad  Hambury, 

Oome  saddle  me  my  milk  white  st«ed, 

Come  saddle  it  so  ready; 
Thon  I  will  ride  to  my  good  Lord  Judge, 

To  beg  for  the  lile  of  my  Georgy  ; 
But  when  she  came  into  the  hill 

There  Lords  and  Ladies  plenty, 
And  down  on  her  bended  knofs  she  did  fall, 

Spare  me  the  life  of  ray  Georgy. 

I  have  got  sheep,  I  have  got  cows, 

Oxen  I  have  plenty, 
And  you  shall  call  it  all  your  own, 

Spare  me  the  life  of  my  Georgy  ; 
The  Judge  he  looked  over  his  shoulder  left, 

Saying  lady  now  be  easy, 
Georgy  hath  conftss'd  and  die  he  must, 

'«  Lord  have  mercy  on  my  Georgy.** 

Georgy  t^hall  be  hanged  in  a  chain  of  gold, 

Snch  as  you  never  saw  many, 
ForGeorgy's  one  of  the  British  blood, 
•  And  he  courted  a  virtuous  !ady  ; 
Who  for  him  hath  wept  both  night  and  day, 

And  could  not  drive  lier  sorrow  away, 
Biit  sh«;  hoped  to  seethe  happy  day 

To  be  blest  once  more  ivith  her  georgy. 

Was  1  top  of  Procter's  bill, 

Wht  re  timf^s  I  (  flhaveibeen. 
Will)  my  pistol  co<4{'d  all  in  my  hand 

Id  tig  111  for  the  life  ol  Giorgy, 


MAID. 


JJow  sweet  is  the  MiiK^r's  maid, 

More  sweet  tlian  new-rrown  bav, 
I'll  come  to  ihei ,  in  VVjilow  Giov*,' 
In  Willow  Gruvc  I'll  tome  to  ibee. 

CUOBUS, 

And  when  the  moon  is  up  my  love, 

And  all  th«'  village  stib', 
rii  C(imp,  I'll  come  ti>  thoe,  my  love, 

Whilst  around  goes  the  mi.'j. 

All  on  a  mossy  bank  weeit, 

When  Roses  are  ir)  bloom,  \ 

Our  lips  entwine  ifk<'  Jessamine, 

Like  Jessamine  our  lips  entwine. 

And  when  the  n2o»a^-&r 

'''he  hrart  that  never  ft  It^ 
Such  pleasing  joys  as  these, 
Shall  nev»T,  never  ta>t<'  siicli  joys^ 
Such  joys  as  these  d<'ligbt  and  pieanrb. 

And  >*he»  the  i»rof>il,  ^c, 


A  LL  IS   (.OST  NOW 

\\A.  is  lo.st  now !  oh  for  me 
Love's  s»in  is  Jk't  tor  ever! 
'1  his  poor  IxMii^t  in  fntMre  never, 
>ot  one  hope  of"  blisi>  can  see, 
lieiK't.'!  henre  !  thou  lost  oue  : 

(to,  ungrateful ! 
"^1  }iou  away  all  hope  hath  driven  ; 

(to,  unfjratetu!  ! 
yw  thei^e  li)ok.s  so  fraujiht  with  sjidness : 
t  '\uv  this  lieart  v\  a.n  HllM  with  jilaiiness : 
ISovv  'tis  drivfr-n  into  madness — 
Vnde  uniiappy  still,  by  thee. 


>\UAs  SO  GKMI.Y  O  KR  ME  STEALING 

S*!ll  mi  ^^entjy  o'er  ine  stealing, 
Ateuiry  nviII  briiij;  luick  the  feeling, 
s»'ife  of'all  my  gii«-f"  revealing, 
J^iftt  I  love  th^e.  tlial  1  deurlv  love  thee 

Ntiil, 
'1  {'.(»'  si'uu'  other  swain  may  cliarm  thee, 
±^h  !    no  otliere  er  <an  warm  me, 
Ytt  IK  tr  Tear,  1  \^ill  not  harm  thee, 
^o,  thou  tal^e  one,  no,  no,  1  fondh  love 

tl'tH-  still. 
?<»e  those  lo«;ks  so  rrau«rht  with  sadness, 
( Ju<  e  my  heart  was  filled  with  gladness, 
Now  'tis  driven  iitto  madnens, 
^  H<le  unhappy,  made  unhappy,   still  by 

the<* ; 
Yes,  son-e  other  swain  may  rlaim  thee, 
still  noother  e'er  can  warm  me, 
I'ear  not  then,  I  will  not  harm  thee, 
]No.  false  one,  no,  I  love  tliee  still, 
I  jovf  thee,  laise  one,  still. 
J)(.st  thou  speak  ofme  when  dreaming? 
'i  hen  a  ray  ot  light  isU'aming, 
A  ?i4i  thy  inncH  enee  is  gleaming, 
(  it !  1  lo\e  tree,  oh!  I  dearly  love  thee  slill 
Now  !u)otlier  swtiin  '*an  claim  thee, 
T'hou  my  love  shall  ever  warm  me, 
And  1  sviear  I  will  not  harni  thee, 
^  t  s,  dearone,  yes,  I  lovethee  still, 
love  thee,  dear  one,  still. 


THE  POOR  OLD  WORN  OUl 

SAILOR 

/\NE  summer'jj  evp,  all  lahoiir  ctVf, 

And  bird*  wer<.»  3we«*t!y  sin^^io^, 
A  poor  old  l«r,  worn  out  with  ajje 

Thro*  onr  village  rame  a  bfgsding", 
1  pitied  liisaad  nionriirul  tal«». 

For  at  pity  I'm  no  railir, 
Pra),L«'«tow  your  charity  !  said  he. 

On  apouruid  woru-oiit  saih^r. 

When  fiiisc  reports  came  home  I  was  d«ad 

My  poor  wife  died  brokeu-lieiutt.4\ 
"y  diiiigiiteDilie  roain'd  1  knew  not  wbere, 

And  fur  ever  more  In  be  parte<l, 
I  uaHwreck'd  c  f  all  in  this  wt  rid  1  held  tiezr. 

Poor  gill !    1  eft  bewail  her, 
ir  I  could  but  her  find,  she'd  a  comfort  be. 

To  a  p«;i»r  old  w  orn-otit  bailor. 

Despise  my  hull,  I  pray  now  don't 

'C'uosH  l'Negt>t  Kliabby  r'j'^j^^iiig-, 
I'd  rather  work,  if  I  had  my  limbj», 

Thau  I'd  b«.>  »efu  a  be^gin)^, 
For  1  lulike  a:»hip  diHtrrstt' at  sea,  y^* 

Witbiiut  onetrirnd  to  hail  her, 
Th»n  pray  bestow  noiif  charity,  ^^^\ 

On  a  poor  old  uorii-oiiti>uiior.  ,< 

\»  tins  he  snng  bin  m«i(!r)  ful  tale, 

A  female  gi.xed  upon  him, 
She  biir.>t  into  tears  in  trjnti|!orl  wiUl, 

And  fBiik  upon  hi>>  bofoui, 
Oh  futher  !  tihe  cried,  for  'twas  child, 

Whoiie  duty  n«''er  bad  faild  her. 
Come  you  home,  and  live  and  die  wit    m« 

Yuu  poor  old  worn-out  kuilor. 

For  I've  a  home,  and  u  husband  dear, 

Most  kindly  he  wiU  tr»ut  you, 
Altbo*  your  poor  and  doth'd  i»t  rag», 

Kigbt  welcome  he  will  j^reet  yon. 
And  when  y*»u  resign  ytjur  pulling  breath 

Mv  duty  ►hall  ne'er  know  luiiure, 
I'll  MH!  you  b-id  «••  y«««r  silent  g^'^ve, 

Yfc"  poor  old  Horu-oul  &4ii!or.  < 


P..  I!<Klge«  frtiwi  Pi  it's  Toy  &  Marb>e 
V.  arcLouse.  31,  3doi:mo«th  Street,    /   Diaks. 


ft^ 


F..  HoncKS  from  PirT'>»  Toy  an,d^Ia»We 


THE  CONSTANT 

91  4  ID. 


AS  I  roved  one  evening  to  take  the  air, 

In  my  perambulating  1  met  a  maiden  fair, 
Jier  cheeks  were  rosy  red — her  hair  was  br^wn. 
Her  eyes  were  bewilder'd,   as  she  strayed  ihrongh 
—  Town. 

I  stood  in  contemplation  to  view  tliis  fair, 
Juno,  or  Minerva,  with  lier  couldn't  compare, 
Luna  bright,  that  rules  the  n  glit,  or  the  Queen, 
Couldn't  compare  witU  that  faii  I  met  on  —  green. 

Her  teeth  were  like  ivory,  her  s^^in  like  snow, 
Her  heart  free  from  gnile  tho'  oppressed  with  woe, 
Sheheav'd  a  sigh  as  she  pass'd  by— a  token  of  grief 
Saying,  I'm  oppressed  and  can  tind  no  relief. 

I  genily  slepp  d  U()  to  h  r  mv  mind  tocontenty 
Saying,  g  nl  ecieata-re.  wh,  do  vou  laruent? 
Is  your  fa  h-^r  or  mother  dead  or  w  liy  do  you  mo*n 
Oj  have  you  no  friends,  but  left  a  bird  aloue? 

Sho  says,  young  man  dun't  i  aat'  r  me  but  pity  my 

tale. 
If  \oa*ll  p^y  attention  the  trutli  I'll  reveal. 
By  Cupid  I'm  wounded  which  docs  ine  annoy, 
I  bigb  and  weep  in  my  sleop,  fara  charcuing  boy. 

My  parents  have  riches,  but  my  lovo  he  is  poor, 
Ihey  say  if  I  wed  him  I'll  b  g  from  duor  to  «loar. 
But  was  I  an  heiress   of  ten  thousand  pounds  or 

more. 
I'd  give  it  with  pleasure  to  Lim  I  do  fidore. 

But  my  love  is  from  me  upon  the  Scotch  shore, 
He's  gone  for  enployment  al  ng  with  many  more. 
He  has  not  returned  which  aui^nments  my  woh, 
And  if  the  waves  proves  his  grave  distracted  1*11  go 

To  Ler  1  said,  dear  maid,  these  w«.rds  pierce  my 

htart, 
Perhaps  your  love  has  changed  his  mind^  since  he 

did  depart, 
Scotch  lasses  are  enticing  we  understand. 
They  wi->h  to  keep  Irish  boys  upon  Scottish  land. 

1  saw  Ibis  maid  endeavour  to  hide  the  tear, 
Sayinjr,  tould  he  be  cruel  to  one  v»ho  loves  him  dear 
The  ni^ht  that  we  parted  1  thought  his  beart would 

break, 
He  said  he'd  die  for  me  if  I'd  him  forsake. 

But  if  my  love  placed  his  mind  on  another  maid. 
Through  groves,  and  vallies.  &  woods  1 11  serenade  | 
no  man  shall  enjoy  me  until  I  die. 
But  in  discontent  my  days  111  spend  for  my  darling   ' 
boy 


HAPPY  DAYS 


OF 


¥ORE. 


K.  Hodges,  P  inter,  wholesale  Toy  and 
Marble  \^  art  house,  31,  Dudley  Street* 
Seven  Dials,. 


MY  heart  is  jrhidly  beating,  t^^ 

As  I  tread  the  scene  once  more,      < 
Where  boyhood  gaily  reveli'd,  f 

In  the  happy  days  of  yore: 
Aud  I  greet  the  z  phyer's  n.elody, 

J  hat  round  me  sweetly  pl^vs,         ^ 
For  it's  tune  is  still  as  joyous,  ^ 

As  it  was  in  childhood's  days. 

My  lieart,  &C. 


The  frap;rant  breath  of  summer. 

Would  faji  ihe  boyish  brow. 
That  once  so  fair,  by  cruel  care. 

Is  sadly  alter  d  now  ; 
For  the  glossy  riven  tresses> 

In  wi  ich  ihatbiow  was  dress'd 
Have  faded  'neaih  th«  hand  ot  time 

Into  a  snowy  ciest. 

My  heart  &c. 

The  green  and  waving  meadow,         ; 

Th»^  bed  of  fragrant  tliyme,  ^ 

The  flowers  fair,  all  seem  to  wear,      j 

The  dress  of  olden  time  ; 
The  wavelets  on  the  river,  ♦ 

Still  se<  k  their  sunny  track,  7\ 

At>d  vanish  like  golden  hopes  ' 

That  utver  can  cuuie  back. 

My  heart  1 


/ 


m 


THE  CELLARER 

E.  Hodges  (from  Pitts,)  Printer,  Wholesale 
Toy  Warehouse,  31,  Dudley  Street  7  Diak. 


rVLD  Simon  the  cellarer,  keeps  a  rare -store. 

Of  malmsbury  and  malvoisie. 
And  Cyprus,  and  who  can  say  bowinaDy  more 

'For  a  chary  old  soul  ie  he. 
Of  sack  and 'Canary  he  never  dcrth  fail, 

And^all  the  }ear  Tound  there  is  brewing  of 
•ale, 
Yet  he  never  aUeth  he  iquaintly  doth  say, 
While  he  keqps  to  his  «ober  six  flagons  a-day. 

But  ho,  ho,  ho  !  his  nose  doth  snow, 

How  oft  the  %iack-jack  to  bis  doth  go, 

IDame  Margery  sits  in  her  own  still  roomy 

And  a  matron  sage  is  she, 
From  thence  oft  at  curfewr,  is  wanted  a  fume, 

Bot  she  says  lit  is  rosemary. 
But  there's  a -SHiall  cupboard  Itebind  the  back 
stair, 

And  the  maids  say  they  often  «ee  Margery 
there, 
And  Margery  says  she  grows <very  old. 
And  must  take  a  something  to  keep  out  thecold 

JBut  ho,  ho,  bo  !  old  Simon  doth  know. 

Where  many  a  flask  of  (bis  best  doth  go. 

Old^imon  redlinesin  his  high  back'd  chair-} 

And  talks  of  taking  a  wife. 
And  Margery  dft  has  been  heard  to  declare, 

She  ought  to  be  settled  for  life. 
INow  Margery  basso  tbe  maids  say, a  tongue 
She's  not 'verybandsome,  nor  yet  very  young 
3oi5omehow  it  end*  with  a-shake  of  the  head. 
And  Simon  he  brews  hiraa  tankard  instead. 

With  bo,  bo,  bo,  he'll  chuckle  and  crow, 

Wbat  marry  €>ld  Margeryf— no,  no,  no. 


jQH.,  dear,  these  axe  Shocking  hard  times, 

riie  like  of  tliem  n-  ver  was  known,* 
1  Irro'  liviag  with  old  Master  Grimes, 

I'm  nothing-  but  mere  skin  and  bones, 
So  fast  1  am  wasting  away, 

I'm  getting  as  thin  as  a^rat  I  declare, 
And  the  wages  from  this  did  miserly  man^ 

^re  only  four  pounds  in  th«  year. 
•Out  of  that  IVe  got  to  find  clothes. 

And  jet  this  miserly  old  elf— 
I'm  sure  you'd  never  suppose— 

Is  actually  rolling  in  pelf. 
His  temper  i«  worse  than  a  Turk, 

I  do  all  bis  short  jobs  1  declar*,- 
In  fact  I'm  his  maid  of  all  work, 

-And  ouly  gets  four  pounds  a  year. 
M  V  livi«g  it  being  bO  hard. 

There  «  no  fear  of  my  getting  the  gout, 
1  pity  the  rats  and  the  mice, 

For  like  skeletons  tbey  all  run  about, 
'Twasonly  this  morning  the  uiany, 
He  swore,  as  my  nose  he  did  handle. 
From  my  wages  he  would  stop  a  penny- 

'Cause  I  bit  off  a  piece  of  his  candle' 
Twas  but  tills  morning  agai«, 

AS  his  band  on  my  shoulder  he  psrts. 
After  looking  awhile  at  his  cupboard. 

Sent  me  for  a  ha'p'orth  of  sprats  ; 
'I  fetched  them,  Iicook'd  them  in  grease. 

And  what  do  you  think  ?  to  my  sorrow. 
After  we  ate  a  mouthful  a-piece. 

He  put  the  rest  by  till  lo-morror.-. 
At  night  in  the  cellar  I'm  packed, 

wbsre  there's  only  a  sack  for  my  bed, 
lEvery  window  is  broken  or  crack'd, 

And  I-ve  nothing  to  cover  my  head, 
Ihe  rats  they  come  gnawing  my  toes 

Becausethey  nnd  nought  on  the  shelf, 
But  1  never  drive'em  away  'cause  -I  knows, 

what  it  is  to  be  hungry  myself. 

Often  when  I  pass  by  a-cook-sbop. 

My  hands  in  my  pockets  am  fumbling, 
The  smell  it  invites  me  to  stop, 
aH  the  while  my  little -worms  are  grumbling 
<when  I  see  a  dog  gnawing  a-bone. 

That's  given  by  some  good-natured  0lf, 
"So  Huch  do  I  envy  the  treat. 

That  r  steal  it,  and  gnaw  it  myself, 
1  really  would  leave  him  to-morrow. 

That  is,  if  my  wages  I  could  get, 
ilthough  they've  been  due  now  a  nrorfth. 

There's  tevsr  a  farthing  paid  yet. 
TO  the  workhouse  1  d  go  stumping 

nhougb  tis  a  plan  t^atl  do>not-&dmir« 
[For (folks -say  il  should  only  bey umpiag,  ' 

^Brom  rthetfrying-fpan  i  n  v^tt  lip .  fire^ 


^^ 


/f  HIT  pigia  in  the  mire,  and  the  cow  is  od  the  grass. 

And  a  man  without  a  woman  is  no  better  tlian  an  ass 
;  My  moth^  r  h'kes  her  ducks,  &  the  ducks  like  the  drake 
And  sweet  Judy  Flannigan  I'd  die  for  Ler  sake. 
■  M  J  Judy  she's  as  fair  as  the  flower  on  the  lea  ; 
She's  neat  and  complete  from  the  neck  to  the  knee  : 
We  met  lother  night  our  hearts  to  condole, 
And  1  sal  Judy  down  by  the  Oul'  Bog  Hole. 

Singing,  cushla  mavourneen,  will  you  marry  me? 

Arrah!  cu.shia  mavourneen,  will  jou  marry  me? 

Arrah  .'  cushla  mavourneen,  will  you  marry  rae  ? 

Would  you  fancy  the  bouncing  y6ung  Barney  Magee 
Then  Judy  she  blushed  &  hung  down  her  dead 
Saying.  Barney,  you  blackguard,  I'd  like  to  ge't  wrd. 
But  they  say  youVe  so  rough  £(  you  are  such  a  rake 
Don't  believe  if,  says  I,  it's  all  a  mistake:  ' 

'lo  keep  you  geuteel  I'll  work  at  my  trade, 
ril  handle  the  shovel,  the  hook  and  the  spade      ^-^ 
'i  he  tuif  to  procure  which  is  better  than  coal        ^^^: 
And  Ml  work  to  my  knees  in  the  oul  bog  hole*.  "'" 

Singing,  cushla,  etc       jj 
Arran,  give  me  your  hand  and  consent  just  at  once 
Sure  its  not  every  day  you'll  get  such  a  chance  :       w 
When  the  Priest  makes  us  one,  happy  I'U  be,  ■"'■ 

With  the  beautiful,  dutiful  Mistress  Magee. 
Though  the  meal  should  be  sc^ce  we-li  bave  praties 

enough,  ^ 

And  if  you  think  long  for  more  delicate  stuff 
J-U  take  oat  tiie  old  rod  whch  my  grandfather  stole 
And  I'll  go  fesh  for  eels  in  the  oul  bog  hole. 

Singing,  cushla,  etc. 
Fine  children  we'll  have  ;  for  we  nuist  mind  that 
There'll  be  Darby  and  Barney,  and  Looney  and  P 
There'll  be  Judy  so  meek,  and  Mary  so  bluff 

0  stop,  stop,  she  cried,  have  you  not  got  enough  ? 

1  have  not,  said  I,  sure  I'll  not  be  content 

Till  jou  biio«  home  as  many  as  there's  rl^vc  ;     r 
Bovt  the  nei^hbours  will  stare  when  wp       f       ^ent— 
When  we  all  promen.de  round  theold  bo    hoL         ' 

^     .     ,    ,  ,      T         ^'''^'■"^' cn'S'la^^tc. 

13y  the  hokev,  save  she,  I  can  srarcely  ,pf, 
Fur  Barney   the  blarney  you  know  lU  to'usc 
\  ouve  botherd  my  heart  with  the  pictnrJ'L  7    j 
If  I  thought  I  cou'd  trust  you  theT.b  ''.^.T^'^^^^^" 
Holy  murder,  says  1,  do  yL  doub^  X  f  a^/,^-^' 
Jf  I  thought  twoH  d  convince  \oii  I'r»„          ,  A'<. 
<)  no,  she'rep-.ed  i.s  of  no  use  'at  all  '  ^'^^^-^-d^y, 

Th.  n  >he  whispered  consent  by  the  oul  bog  hol^ 
T..en  gtve  me  a  k.ss  my  joy  and  ddi.htL 
Be  a.sy.  you  blackguard,  unfil  its  aH  right 
Sure  after  we're  vt^d.  wonja\  lis,  »„a        a  . 
And  lUb  fo,  theeeU  U  il^TuvZ.T^ir"^^" 


LAND  WE  LIVE  IN' 


it? 


E.  HODGES   Pri„ter,  Wholesale  Toy  &  Marble 

Caildn  n'a  Books,  &c 

SINCE  our  foes  to  invade  us  have  Ion- 
,T,.     ,     been  preparing, 
lis  clear  they  cosider  we've  sometbin? 
worth  sharing,  ^ 

And  for  that  mean  to  visit  our  shore  • 
-t  behoves  us  with  spirit  to  tnHetVm  ' 

And  tho'Hwill  be  nothing  uncoa'^^^^^ 
beat  em, 

We  must  try  how  they'll  take  it  once 
more. 

ceoRus. 

So  fill  your  glasses,  be  this  the  toast 

given. 
Here's  England  for  ever,  the  land  boys 

we  live  in. 

Here's  a  health  to  the  tars  on  the  w  e 

ocean  raging, 
Perhaps  even  now  some  broadsides  are 

exchanging 
We'll  on  shipboard  and  join  in  the  fiijht 
And   when  with  the  foe  we  are  firmly 

engaging, 
'Till  the  fire  of  guns  lull's  the  sea  in  its 

raging, 
On  our  country  we'll  think  with  delight. 

On   that  throne  where  once  Alfred  in 
glory  was  seated 

Long  may  our  Queco  by  her  people  be 
gree'ed, 

For  to  guard  we'll  be  all  in  one  mind- 

May  religion,  law,  order,  be  strictly  de- 
fended, 

Aud  contin'ie  the  blessings   they   first 
\vere  inttndt'd, 

la  union  tlie  natioa  to  bind. 


Hodges,  from  PITTS,  Wholesale  Toy  and  Mar-  ^ 
Jjle  Warehouse,''   <■  Street,  Seven  Dials. 

Mf  name  is  Pat  Murphy  I'll  never  deny,  ' 

I've  travelled  the  country  for  many    a  long 
mile,  ('»nti  and  Nor,  s 

Through    England,   tliroush    Ireland,   and   Stot-  \ 
The  name  that  I  go  by  is  Erin  go  Bragh.  \ 

I 
AS  I  was  a  walking  up  Whitechapet  Street, 
A  saucy  policeman  I  chancer  for  to  nu-et,  I 

f!e  looked  and  he  stared  and  ^ave  me  some  jaw,     s 
Saying  when  came  you  over  from  Erin  go   Bragh.  ? 

jt's  I'm  no  Paddy  tho'  to  Ireland  I've  been,  i 

Paill'  1''"  ""  Pa<^ldy  tho'  Ireland  I've  seen, 
/nd  if  a  Paddy,  faith  what's  that  to  you,  j     , 

The^'®  is  many  a  hero  from  Eiin  go  Bragh.  \ 

I  know  vou  are  a  Pat  by  the  twist  of  yoiir  hair,       \ 
But  you  always  turn  Scotchman   wlicn   you  coifie 
here,  (law, 

You've  left  your  own  country  for   breaking-   the  : 
i  am  seizing  jill  stragglers  from  Eriu  go  Sraj^b.      ; 

With  a  lump  of  black  thorn  that  I  held  in  my  fist, 
Ail  round  his  big  body  1  made  it  to  twisty  , 

The  blood  from  his  napper  I  quickly  did  draw,         ; 
With  a  lump  of  shillelagh  fj^om  Erin  go  Bragh.        ; 

UTie  fvlks  thev  flocked  round  me  like  a  lot  of  young 
geese,     '  (police, 

Saying  where's  the  wild  Irishman  that's  killed  our 
Where  I  had  go\  one  friend,  I'm  sure  he  got  four, 
But  I  played  them  a  tune  they  cull  Eiia  go  Bragh, 

Therfe  is  a  little  packet  sails  off  to  the  north, 
V\]  puck  up  my  hones  and  shortly  be  off. 
Bud  luck  to  all  fackd  policemen  and  a^ 
T-o  the  devil  I'll  pitch  them  said  Erin  g«*  Bragh. 


COMMAND  a  sturdy  band 
01  pirates  bold  and  free. 
No  1  iws  we  own,  my  ship's  my  throne^ 

And  my  kingdom  is  the  sea. 
'  My  (lag   is  red  at  the  topmasi  head* 
*      At  all  my  foes  1   smile. 

And  no  quarter  show,  where'er  I  g% 
I  And  soon  the  prize  I  take  in  tow* 
;       My  men  are  tried, 
i       My  bark's  the  pride 
Of  the   Pirate  of  the  Isles, 
I  The  Pirate,  tho  Pirate  of  the  Isles* 

;  I  love  to  sail,  in  a  pleasant  gale> 
'      On  the  deep  and  boundless  sea^ 
I  With  a  prizo  in  view,  we  bring  bet  taa, 
And  haul   her  under  our    lee* 

We  give  three  cheers,  and   homeward  sfeor, 
;      When   fortune   on  us  smiles. 

For  nuae  e'er  crossed  the  fam'd  Le  Ros** 
iBot  to  my  flag  they've  struck  of  coarse* 

My  men  are  tried* 
'      Yi'y    bark's   the  pride 

Oi'  Ih-j  Pirate  of  the  Isles, 
\  The  Pirate,  the  Pirate  of  the  Isles. 

\  Proud  Gallia's  sons  and  Spanish  (Jori# 
;      Wilh  ardent  zeal 'have  burned, 
i  Come  on  the  sea  to  capture  me. 
But  they  ne'er  back  returu'd, 
'  .\nd  Eiiiglaad  too  does  me  pursue, 
\      At  all  her  threats  I  smile, 
I  Eight  ships  I  hive  ta'en,  their  men  I  hat* 

A)Td  burnt  and  suuk  them  in  the  laaia. 
I      My  men  are  tried, 

1  My  bark's  the  pride 

\  Of  the  Pirate  of  the  Isles, 

;  The  Pirate,  the  Pirate  of  the  Isles. 

But  now's  in  sight  a  ship  of  might, 
,      A  British  seventy-four, 
5  She  hails  Le  Ross,  and  stops  her  courn^ 

2  And  a  broadside  in  her  pours ; 

\  The  pirate  soon  returns  the  boon,    . 
,       And  proudly  dnes  he  smile, 
I  Bnt  a  fatal  ball  has  caused  his  fall, 
S  And  now  his  men  for  quarter  calL 
^      In  the  briny  deep  is  laid  to  &J<^fe|Ji» 
eTheP"  U» 

i'  Th 


CJIEER  UP 


«   GOD    DEFEN0 


THE 


E.    HODGES.   Pirnf^r,  Wholeaale  Toy  and 
M.irb'e  VVaifljousf,  26  Giafto;i  Stree't,  Soho. 

I'once  did  love  a  oolourM  girl,] 
I  tlioiiL'ht  Hat  she  loved  me. 
I-    She  was  a  brigh>-eyed  yaller  gal, 
^         As  eber  you  did  see  ; 

But  she  has  proved  unconstant, 

And  left  me  here  te  lell — 
The  sorrows  dar  my  heart  bewails. 
For  deceitful  Sarah  Beii, 

€heer  up,  Sam,  don't  let  your  spirits 
go  down,  [well 

There's  many  a  ^al  dat  you  know^ 
Looking  for  you  iu  tlie  town. 

I  had  not  much  to  give  her, 

And  what  i  had  I  gave,  ^ 
For  wealth  and  riches  don't  belong. 

To  one  dat  is  a  slave  ; 
Be  white  man  ranie  wilh  dollars, 

^he  went  with  !drn  todw<?ll, 
Ahd  broko  the  vows  she  nvade  to  me 

Det  eilful  bara!»  Belh  Cheer  up  &c 

ye.«! ;  all  the  while,  woridng, 

Au(\  cutting  <lown  the  corny 
0h  \  I  ottt-n  sigh  vvitiiin  me, 

And  wihh  1  ntr'er  was  born- 
Kf-rhaps  she's  nay  and  happy,. 

VV  luTever  she  may  dwell, 
Whfie  this  poor  hpart  is  breaking^ 

lor. deeejilul  Sarah  iieU- 


n 


§ 


«^ 


w 


w 


War's  Irurapets  sonnds  and  britisti  hearU- 

W!io  ne'er  <»ppr.  sf-ion  ti.mey  stand. 
Are  gone  to  heai  tb^  cru»  1  smartij, 

Ii  fl'C'ed  by  a  De  pot's  hai.d  : 
And  wiietk  upon  some  fuieign  sbor#, 

I'lie  Bii  idfi  soldi  r  takes  hts  way, 
-  CJp  Gtiards  and  ai  tbeai,'  as  of  sore, 

islmU  be  thtt  watch  word  lo  t be  fray 

CFIORUS 
TLen  raiswthe  sfandard  freedom  callt, . 

Tp  ^id  ihe  weekrstit)  ihe  fight. 
Ami  wui:  our  Iro'tps  aid  wooden  walb, 

We  pray  may  God  defend  the  right 

"Cill  to  tlie  Despot's  mind  the  day, 

When  England  loog  embroilMin  war,, 
Sho^'d  to  the  ho9tii«  world  the  sway,, 

iilte  held  at  glorinui  Traf>dgar. 
We  hoped  for  peace,  and  ev^ry  plan, 

Was  irK'd  to  calm  the  troubled  sIofi»«.. 
Now  EtijilaiKi  expect?  that  ev'r^  man, 
His  duty,  bravaly  wdl  peiform 

Our  soldiers  and  our  sailors  brave. 

Neer  sei  k  for  war  or  carnage  dircj    ' 
Bui  tl»ey  can  figtil  on  land  or  v^bt*. 

To  curb  a  Despot's  wrid  desire, 
And  ev'iy  loyai  h»^art  will  beat. 

Responsive  to  the  baltle  cry, 
*  Alrighteous  cause  knows  no  defeftf,  , 

Our  home3,  our  Qiieen  and  victory. 

GOD   DEbENDi 
THE  RIGHT 

(FROM  TUB  FUENCH) 

On,  onward  then  then  for  Syria, 

List,  Russia  to  ths  song, 
Ri».ht  cheerily  the  lru«pet*«  bla»t. 

Is  echoed  by  tlie  throng. 
One  crj  doth  Fiance  &  England  »b»r«> . 

When  girdn^  tor  the  fight* 
If  war  must  be,  then  let  it  cona« 

Aud  God  detend  the  right. 

But  lat*>  a  noVle  prinee  declared, 

The  empire  it  is  peace 
Th«  worUt  witb  transport  hsil'tf  <K<  w«Hi : 

And  said  tkafc  war  should  ce«*« 
Then  woe  to  the  foolhardy  C»«-iv 

«Vho  daren  our  jov  to  blighf 
var  gainst  this  t>r«tiit  le*  hs  m«4#. 

A»^  G^  «leic»d  th«  rifhl . 


THE    CARFIXDO 

"M  tli^it  once  was  a'ploutjl'man  asailoram  now 

No  I  I'-kth-it  aloft  in  tht*  sky. 
Ever  flnttaied  hi*  wing.s- to  giv^e  speed,  to  the 

piouglr 
Was  sogay  and' so  careless  as  I, 
B-nt  my  friend  he  was  a  carfihclo-on  boardof 

a  king's  ship» 
And  he  ask'd  me  just  logo  to  sea  for  a  trip^ 
And  he  talked  of  such  things,    as   if  sailor's 

were  kings^  and' so  teasing  did-keep 
That    I  left  ray.  poor  plough  to  gi)  piougliiug' 
the  deep 

No  longer  the  liorn 
Called  me  up  inithe  morn, 
I  trusted  the  Carfihdo  and  the  inconstant  wind 
That    made   me  for  to. go  and  leave  my  dear 

behind. 
f  did  not  mu^h  like  to  be  on  board  as^iip 
When  in  danger  there  is  no  door  to  creep  out 
r  liked  thejplly  tars,  I  liked  bamboo  &:flip 
But  f  did  net  like  rocking  about^ 
By  &  by  cornea  hurricane,  I  did  not  like  that 
iVext  a  battle  that  many  a  sailor  laid  flat, 
Ah!  cried    I',  who  would  roam,   that  like  me 

had  a  home,  when  Fd  sow  and  1  reap,. 
Ere  Ileft  my  poor  plough  to  go  ploughing 
the  deep. 

Where  sweetly  the  horn 
Galled  me  up  in  (he  morn' 
Ere  I  trusted  the  Carfindo  and  the  inconstant 

wind  ; 

That  made  me  for  to  go  and  leave  my,  dear    • 
behiud. 

At  last  safe  I  landed  and  in  a  whole  skin  < 

Nor  did    1  make  any  long  stay  < 

Ere  I  found  by  a  friend  who  I  asked  for  my  o 

kin,  ; 

Father  dead  and  my  wife  run  awav;  I 


All.  wiio  ilm  niy^pff  snid'PiiasftJMJMgti  to  b}am©r 
:    Wiv^s  loosing  tlieJr  husbands,  oil  loose  tiieir 

s;<'<-d  iii.!44e,. 

A4i  wi,y  did  I  lOHtni.  ^vlw•^  soHa|>p.^arboinc, 

I  (.<Mihi<s*>-w  ami  <.vould  r^ap,. 
Eie   F  Icir  m*  poor  plough,  to  g^,  plouobins, 

the  deep,  "        ^ 

When,  fos-weetfv  tte  h«rn^ 
(i  ailed  me  up  in" the  morn, 
Ivurses-  bghti  upon,  the  CaHlndo  and  the  in*, 
coij.sranl  wind,. 

'hhat  made  Hie  fon  to  50  aa<l'l8av€  my  dear 
hehiutU  ^ 

■   Wliy  if  tHatbe  the  {>ase  said  this  very  same 
jriand. 
And  vou  bee'nt  no  more  minded  tcroam, 
Qje'sva-aiiake  by  tlie  fist,  all  ^-our  care's  at  an 

end;. 

Dad's^aliva  andiyour.  wife^s  safeat  home, 
Stark  starino  « ii'h  joy  1  lea|)ed<out  of  my  s-kin- 
Biiss-d  1113. M ile,  mother,.. sister^.  and:all  uf  mv, 

Ifiii,.  -^ 

Nowcr  ed  f' let  ihfjn  roam,  who  want  a^good* 

houie,  I.  am.  wfilso  l.'ll  keep^ 
'Vol  again. leave  my  pluugh  to  go  ploughing: 

the  deep 

Otioemore  shall  the  horn. 
Cull  me  up  in  the  morn. 
Nor.  shall'  any   damu'd.Carhuu'c  nor  thft  in-- 

con.stant  wind, 
B'extMupt  me  for  to  go  and  leave  nry  dear 
behiiHi. 


i 


I'LL  NOT  BEGUILE  TaEE 

FRorx  Tar  saiais,. 

J'LL  not  begnile  thee  from  thy  home 

For  me  lliou  shait  not  friends  resign,. 
Or,  exiled  from  my  kindred  roam,- 
In  poverty  and  grfef  to  pine, 

Oh  !  no,  no.  no, 
Too  dearly  do  I  love  thee.. 

Though: losing  the©  T  bid  farewell,.      ^ 
To'every  hopeanti  ev'ryjoy,  if 

Think  not  Lwish  thee  here  to  dwellj      Z 
If 'twould  thy  happiness  <testroy. 

Oh  !  no,  no,  no. 
Too  dearly  I  do  lovethee.. 


E.  Hodges  from  Pitt's  Toy  &  Marbfe' 
Warehouse^  31,  Monmouth  Street,  7  Dials,.. 


\ 


HEE 

BOYS,  GHEEit^ 


•  Hodges,  Fruiter,  Wholesale  Toy  k  Marble 
varehantet    ..♦     ^.i.'  "  Street>  Seven  Dials, 
London. 


^  tfiEER  !  boys,  eheor  !  no  more  of  idle  sorrow, 
^  ^Courage,  tr«e  hearts  shall  beat  us  on  oik  way, 
Ho;je  points  before,  &  shows  fht*  bright  to-morrow, 
I      L^t  us  forgjet  the  darkness  of  to-day  ; 
So  farewell  fingland  much  as  we  may  love  thee, 
'Ve'U  dry  the  tears  that  vie  have  shed  before, 
'  Why  should  we  weep  to  sail  in  search  of  fortune, 
So  farewell  England,  ferewell  fur  evermore. 

'  CheiT  !  boys,  eUeer !  for  country  motJter  country, 
Cheer !  boys  cheer,  the  willing-  strong  right  hand 

!  Oh^er !  buys  eheer,  there's  wealth  for  honest  labour 
Cheer !  bo>s  cheer,  for  the  new  and  happy  bind. 

Gljcfirlboys  cheer,  the  8tea,dy  breese  is  blowing, 

To  float  us  fn  ely  o'er  the  ocean  s  breast. 
The  WOT  Id  shall  follow  in  the  track  wa're  going, 

The  star  of  empire  gJiHers  in  the  west. 
Here  we  had  toil  and  little  to  reward  it. 

But  there  shall  plenty  smile  upon  our  pain  ; 
For  ours  shall  be  rhe  prairie  aud  the  forest, 

A<^H  bouadless  meadov^s  ripe  with  golded  grain< 

f  Ohet.  0OV8  cheer,  for  eountry,  mother  couid^ry, 
iJBjeer !  boys  •lieer,  united  heart  »5^  hssi 


^  Cbuer  !  boys  eh  ear,  them's  wealth  fcr  Rsaeit  fabvur 
"l^    Cheer  ?  bi^ys  &b«er,  for  the  asm  ^oitSli  a^y  iaj^'l. 


MARY  §  ARGYLE 

I  hav9  heard  tlie  mavis  singing, 

His  loce-Bong  tothe  raorn.  • 
1  huve  seen  ihe  d'iw-drop  ding^^ing,  • 

To  the  rose  just  newly  barn. 
But  a  sweeter  son^^has  cheer'd  m^ 

At  the  evening's  gentle  close. 
Knd  I've  seea  an  eye  still  brighter, 

Than  the  uew-drop  on  the  rose- 

'Twas  ihy  voice  ray  gentle  Marf, 
And  thy  artless,  winning  sinitc^ 

That  made  this  world  an  Eden* 
Boany  Mary  of  Argyle. 

"  "*'Tbo'  thy  voice  in^y  lose  it's  sweHnesa,- 

And  thine  eye  it's  brightness  t'>o, 
Tho'  thy  step  may  lack  it's  swiftnesa. 

And  thy  hair  it's  sunny  hue 
Still  t«>  me  thou  wilt  be  dearer, 

Than  all  (he  world  shall  own, 
I  hiive  lov'd  thft  for  thy  beauty. 

But  not  for  that  alone. 

I  have  watch'd  thy  heart,  dear  Mir 
A^id  it's  g'lcidness  was  th^  whMe, 

What  has  made  thee  mine  fur  ev«>f. 
Bonny  Mary  of  Argjle. 

ANNIE    LAURIS, 

Maxwetton,s  braes  are  bonnie 
VVhen  rarely  fa's  the  dew,- 
And  it's  there  that  Aenie  Laurie, 
Gied  me  her  promise  trve, 
Gied  mc  her  proimise  true. 
And  ne'er  for>;et  will  I 
Aud  for  bonny  Annie  Laurie, 
I'll  lay  down  my  head  and  die 

Her  skia  is  li'ie  the  snowdrift) 
Her  throat  is  like  the  8^van, 

Her  face  it  is  the  l>onnie8t. 
That  e'er  the  ,«un  shone  on. 
That  e'er  th  •  son  shone  on. 

And  dark  is  her  blue  e\e. 

An  I  for  bonuie  Ann ie  Laurie, 

I'll  lay  down  my  hiwd  and  die, 

Liks  Hew  on  the  go  wan  lying. 
Is  tije  fall  of  her  fairy  feet> 

And  like  the  winds  in  summer  aiding 
Her  voice  is  low  and  sweet, 
Hor  voice  is  l«w  and  tweet, 

A»d  she's  ail  the  wcxrld  (a  me 
And  for  bonny  Aauie  kmru;, 

111  lay  dvoo  my  Itesd  umI  Ht 


f^' 


MY  OWN  DEAllST 

\  S3  (D  SHIlo  i 

Tune — Hellea  the  Fair,  ! 

■W  iierever  1  wonder,  wherever  I  stray, 

I  think  on  my  "childhood  and  foud  mother's  days, 

And  as  by  myself  I  sit  pensive  alone, 

^look  back  with  pleasure  on  my  first  dear  home, 

^^When  grown  np  to  manhood  it  away  you  should 

^'  steer, 

jjSome  thousands  of  miles  from  your  birth-place,  so 

\i  dear, 

»If  into  great  dangers  yoa  should  happen  to  roam, 
Wou  will  think  with  a  smile  on  your  owq  dear  home. 

•If  you  are  b'est  with  a  wife,  in  affliction  you'll  find 
^  nurse  and  a  parent  both  tender  and  kintJl, 
(jWlio  fondly  will  cherish  you  and  weep  while  you 
ij  moan, 

>?rhere  is  no  place  on  earth  like  your  own  dear  home 

.The  scripture  says  if  youMI  be  iiappy  through  life, 
iLeave  father  and  mother  and  deave  to  your  wife. 
I'She  will  never  foresake  thee  and  leave  thee  aUne, 
\3iui  welcome  thee  kindly  to  thy  own  dear  home* 

lAnd  if  amongst  strangers  yon  should  happen  to  go 
fin  broils  and  in  tumults  overwhelmed  with  woe. 
iTbou  would^st  say  to  thyself,  what  induced  me  to 
>  roam, 

.)Or  to  ramble  unray  from  my  own  dear  borne, 

jWlieti  a  man  from  his  labour  retnns  in  the  eve, 
vTo  them  whom  he  did  in  the  morii'ng  soon  leave, 
'His  wife  and  his  children  flock  round  liiiii  aloae, 
'  JAod  welcome  him  kindly  to  his  own  dear  home* 

^Tbore  he  sks  down  in  comfort  by  his  own  fire  side, 
3I»s  what  he  desires,  ther's  notbing  denied, 
-He  bears  the  wind  whistle  while  he  sits  at  home, 
iitid  finds  every  pleasure  iu  his  own  dear  home* 

Bis  c4iildren  hang  round  him  then  so  merrily, 
•One  cljags  to  his  arms,  one  creeps  to  hi«i  koee, 
JBerel't  of  all  sorrow  with  his  cbildreij  aloue, 
Ifefiuda  no  place  so  pleasent  as  h:s  owq  dear  home. 

And  *?hen  his  last  hour  in  this  world  arrives, 
He  WtfWiss  big  babes  and  his  partner  and  dies, 
Tl»«n  his  wife  and  children  in  sorrow  will  rcam^ 
■■^9  jje*!  bira  conveyed  to  bis  liist  home. 


B  Y  M  N 


MoDGEs,  Printer,  fFrom  I.  PITT*y 
Wholesale  Toy  Warehouse,  Jl,  Dudle 
Street,  7  Dials A  Urge  Collection  ofSog 

V  — * — 

-I  e  sons  of  France  awake  to  glory. 
Hark  !  Hark  '.  what  myriads  bid  you  rise. 
Your  childreu,  wives,  and  griindsirs  hoary, 
Dehold  their  tears,  and  hear  their  cries, 
Shall  hateful  tyrents  mischief  breeding. 
With  hireling  boa«t,  a  ruiUan  band, 
A  ffright  and  desolate  the  land. 
While  peaoe  and  liberty  lie  bIeediDg^» 

CHORUS. 

-  To  arms  to  arms,  ye  brave. 

The  avenging  sword  unsheath, 
March  on,  march  on,  all  hearts  resolved, 
On  victory  or  death. 

Now  now  the  dangerous  storm  is  rolling, 

Which  treacherous  kings  confederate  raise; 
The  dogs  of  war  let  loose  are  howling. 

And  lo  I  our  field  and  cities  blaze. 
And  shalls  we  basely  view  the  ruin. 

While  lawless  force  with  guilty  stride, 
Spread  desolation  far  and  wide. 

With  crimes  anU  blood  his  hand  embruing. 

To  arms,  lo  arms,  &e» 

With  luxury  and  pride  surrounded, 

Tlie  vile  lusaliate  despots  dare, 
Tlieir  thirsi  of  power  and  g(-ld  unbounded^ 

To  meet  and  vend  the  bght  and  air. 
Like  beasts  of  burden  would  they  load  us. 
Like  gods,  would  bid  their  slaves  adore. 
But  mail  is  mail,  and  who  is  more  ? 

L'heu  shall  ihey  lunger  lash  and  goad  us  > 

'J'o  arms,  to  arms,  5jq,' 

0  liberty,  can  H^an  rewign  thee  ? 

Once  having  felt  U>y  gcn'rous  Hame ! 
Can  dungeon's  bolts  and  bars  confine  thee? 

Or  whips,  thy  noble  spi-ril  lame  ; 
To  .  long  ibe  world  has  wept,  bewailing, 
I  hat  falsehood's  dagger  tyrants  wieldj, 
But  freedom  is  our  sword  and  .sliiold, 
And  all  their  arts  are  Huavailing, 

lo  ficms*  to  unut  ii9^ 


W; 


•HEN  first  I  saw  Mi^s  Bailey, 
'Twas  on  A  Saturday, 
At  tbe  '  Corner  Pin,'  sh**  was  drinkiag^  gits 

And  smoking  A  yard  if  clay  i 

And  wl»en  tliat  pipe  was  ena plied, 

She'd  fill  it  with  bacca  again,  \ 

Throw  off  her  glass,  and  shout  'old  laa»,*       *v 

Let's  have  another  drain  ?  ^»^' 

As  she  stood  at  the  gin-^hop  bar. 
She'd  sing,  and  she'd  laugh  ha,  ha, 

*  While  I've  got  the  tin,  I'll  sp-^nd  ili»  gi^, 
.      So  good  luck  to  the  gin-shop  bar. 

Miss  Bailey  round  the  bafr,  sirs, 

^Vould  send  her  gt  iss  of  git>,  ^ 

^e  didn't  care  who  drank  wilh  hft 

V\  hile  she  had  g'  t  the  tin.  "  "* 

But  where  the  rhino  csomes  from, 

*Tvvoul(l  puxxle  Queen  oi-  Kinjf^ 
Ali  r  C'H  say,  she  u^ed  to  pay,  , 

\N  ould  this  lushy  girl,  I  sing 
A?  she  sal  at  the  t:in-shc>p  bar,  ^ 

Singing,  fal  lal  de  ral  la, 

•  I  don'i  catc  a  pin  while  I've  got  ia«  fim 

It  shall  j,o  at  the  giu-shop  bar/ 

I'J  rather  be  outside,  sirs 

Than  with  that  motiew  throng 
For  she  ki  p)  9n  annoying  me, 

And  coming  it  rather  strong; 
Till  slie  fell  off  i  er  perch,  sirs  '•  ^ 

A  sprawling  on  \h/e  thxtr,  ^.'  ■  v» 

And  londiy  slioni»  '  my  glass  is  out,  <*. 

Let's  have  a  toothful  more/  •.    \ 

Sut  iho  twan  at  the  gin-shnp  bar, 
I^Aid  the  Bobby  he  his  not  fitr, 
Who   quickly    did    fetchcr,    ik  •    (vfi*  oiTa 
.  stretcher 

<^e  went  from  ih?  gin  shop  bar, 
JNtxt  morniuff  a  Goverv.mfnt  car» 

Toak  ii'-r  from  'be  Polioe  bar, 
ILb  v«s  kc»/fll  to  s»y,  as  they  bc>f«  hot  awaj^ 

*  1  %ikM  tAm  Kt|  9w-a  mdaiuia,' 


V 


\ 


HOP  BAR 

THE  GEM  OF  THE 

OR    THE 

RED  WHITE  k  BLUK 


f-'' 


fi.  FTodges,  Printer,  wholesale  tov  &   Mar. 
Wie  WHf  housi  7  Di.ila. 

A  great  collection  ol  Old  and  New  Songs 


OH   Brittanni^,  the  jrenj  of  the  ocean. 

The  hnme  of  the  brave  and  the  frp«. 
The  sbiine  of  each  Patriot's  ;)evoitoii 

Tbe  woild  <>ffer8  homage  to  thee  , 
Tb  -  munf^ate,  herops  assemhte 

when  hi  erty'a  fo/m  stand  in  vfew 
Thy  ba.  ners  make  tyrants  tremble 

Then  borne  by  the  red,  white,  aiid  bfw. 

^-hvO  war  spread  its  wide  desolatfon 

And  threaten'd  the  land  to  deform 
The  aru  of  ficedom's  foundation 

Brittaitnia,  rotie  sate  through  the  sCort% 
with  lier  garLnd  of  Victory  round  her 
S>yj  bravt  ly  th*^  bore  up  her  crew 
An  >  her  dag  ffoa'cd  proudly  before  Jsp' 
Xht-  boast  of  the  red,  wbiie,  and  hlo* 

The  wine  cup,  the  wine  cwp  hriog  hither 

Abd  fill  it  up  true  to>  the  brina 

May  the  wreith  Nc'wwwob. never  wither 

Nor  the  Kar  of  his  glcN-y  grow  Hi«», 
jKlny  ihe  service  unird  ne'er  s«ver 

Uut  still  to  h«^r  colours  prov*  tnsej        i^* 
THe.  Army  ffld  NaVy  for  ever 

live*  citfeis  for  ike  rt^d  whitr  «B«t  ibiflft 


m  Bai 


I    m 


BONNV  EN6USH 

ROSE. 


u 

-a- 


Hodges,  Printer,  Wlinl^^le  Toy  and  Marble  -^ 

Warehouse                ^.    ^-/  7  Dials.  ^ 

OH  !  don*t  you  remember  sweet  Alice,  Ben  Bolt,  ^ 

Sweet  Alice  with  hair  so  brown,  || 

She  wept  with  delight  when  you  gave  her  a  smile,  ^ 

And  trembled  with  fear  at  your  frown.  ^ 

In  the  old  churchyard  in  the  valley.  Ben  Bolt,  || 

In  a  corner  obscure  and  alono,  H 

They  hare  fitted  a  elab  of  granite  so  grey,  g 

And  sweet  Alice  lies  under  the  stone.  ^ 

They  have  fitted  a  slab  of  granite  so  grey,  W 

f    And  sweet  Alice  lies  under  the  stone.  ;v 

f                                   '  u 

Oil !  don't  yea  remember  the  wood,  Ben  Bolt,  W 

Near  the  green  sunny  slope  of  the  hill  ;  H 

'  W^here  oft  v«  have  sung  'neath  its  wide  spreading  || 

V           shade,                                       .  U 

»    Atid  kept  time  to  the  click  of  the  mill.  ^ 

The  mill  has  gone  to  decays  Ben  Bolt,'  || 

And  a  quiet  now  reigns  all  around,-  || 

Kefe,  the  old  rustic  porch  with  tts  roses  so  sweet,  ^ 

Lies  scfttter'd  and  fallen  to  the  ground.  ^ 

^^    See,  the  old  rustic  porch,  &c.  ij 

s 

Oh  !  don't  you  remember  tlie  school,  Ben  Bolt,  ^ 

And  the  master  so  kind  and  so  true,  g 

J^  the  Httte  nook  by  the  clear  running  brook,  || 

where  we  gather'd  the  flowVs  as  they  grew  || 

C/*er  the  master^s  grave  grows  the  grass,  Ben  Bolt,  ^ 

And  the  running  little  brook  is  now  dry,  |4 

'And  of  all  the^friends  who  were  schooimatrs  then  g 

lh«re  remaias,  Ben,  but  ym  and  I.  JJ 

aimI  of  all  |i»  w 


OLD  England's  emblem  is  the  rose. 

There  is  no  ctlier  flower, 
Hava  half  the  graces  ihat  adorn, 

This  beauty  of  the  bower  ; 
And  England's  dau^'hters  are  as  fw'r 

As  any  bud  that  blows, 
What  son  of  hers  who  haih  not  lov'd 

The  bonny  Knglish  Rose. 

The  bonny,  &c. 

Whoh-ith  not  heard  of  a  sweet  fljwer, 

The  first  among  the  fair. 
For  whose  welfare  mmy  a  British  heart 

Hath  breaih'd  a  fervtnt  prayer  , 
Oh  !  may  it  never  be  her  lot.  , 

To  lose  thai  sweet  repose. 
That  p^ace  of  mind  which  b!es:eth  ever 

The  bonny  English  Rose. 

The  bonny,  &i 

If  any  bold  euongh  there  be, 

TO  war  against  England's  Isle, 
Tbey  soon  shall  find  for  British  hearff , 

What  charms  hath  woman's  smi'e ; 
Thus  nerv'd  the  thunder  of  their  arms, 

will  teach  aspiring  fo-s-. 
How  vain  the  power  that  defies , 

The  bonny  English  R  .se 

1^  xhe  bonnry,  &e» 

Beneath  her  sway  may  ev'ry  land, 

where  she  dominion  hoMs, 
je  happy  as  theglorio  s  Isle, 

wher«  freedom's  flag  unfolds  , 
From  sea  to  shore,  from  ^hore  to  »»» 

The  song  of  gladness  flows. 
May  it  silll  be  our  pride  to  sing, 

the  b«nuy  Englieh  rose 

The  boany,  fat 


Ii  A1f7  ^  ^TRAH 


THK  BOLD 

PRINCESS  ROYAL. 

HOf)GKS,  Pdnitr,   (from  P1'IT«)  Whol««al«  Toy  und 

Madbi*  \Vafeho«se,31,  Dii-dlcy  Street  ^   DiaU, 

/  I N    tl-e  fourtecnlt  dav  «f  F'tbruary  we  sailed  fr«ai 

^^  \hc  'and 

in  t|,e  bold  Princess  Roy*!  iKJiindforNewfoundUnd 

U*  hud  forfy  br  gbt  sejnien  for  a  ship's  company, 

AuA  biAiWy  from  t  e  east^^ard  to  the  ^vestward  hoc©  w«, 

He  l:«d  mot  been  tailiMg  past  daystwoor  tbr«e, 
M^heii  a  wan  fiHJtn  awr  masthead  a  sail  he  did  see, 
Hecaine  bearinj»  dow  n  on  vs  to  mx  wtwi  we  w«iVy 
Wlwic  under  her  mi^en  biaci  coh<ur  «he  v«re.    • 

Cyo(»d  Lord,  cried  th-e  ra|itain.  wlwit  shall  wo  do  now 
Here  comes  the  feoM  pirtft  ,  t»>  rob  <ms  I  iki.t>.<. 
Oh  wo,  cried  our  chief  mate,  that  i^ever  «baiJ  be  to. 
Well  sbiake  out  a  reef  fee  \«,  and  from  iier  will  go. 

How  wlaen  this  bold  pirate  6h*»  hove  alongside* 

With  a  loDj;  speakiag   trumpet,  wlrcnce  wome  you  he 

c.ied, 
(^Mr  captaiK)  beinjy  aft  boys,  lie  aiiswered  tlrem  so, 
Hecaoie  from  fair  London,  w«*re  bound  from  Cairo* 

Come,  haui  up  your  eeursefi,  and  heave  yo«r  sbip  to. 

For  1  hav<>  a  letter  I'll  send  Itonve  by  you, 

1  will  hiiu4  up  my  courses  and  hiave  my  «hip  to^ 

But  it  shall  be  an  some  ibarbour,  and  nt)t  alongside  yoo, 

Obtcne  h«ist  <a\t  your  t<»psails,  your  staysails  too, 
Top-galant sails  and  reyals,  boys,  and  from  her  ve  will 
They  fired  shots  after  «s  but  could  not  to  prevail,       eo 
A'lieu  the  bold  Princess  Royal  soon  showed  them  a  taal, 

She  chased  <us  to  windward  for  all  tliat  long  day,* 
She  chased  us  lo  windward,  but  ^e  cooicf  make  no  way 
S&e  chiised  us  to  windward,  when  shecould  mak«  no  way 
0o  she  haul'od  up  her  mainsail,  and  then  bore  away, 

Itiank  God,  cried  our  captain,  xince  the  pirate  is  gone. 
Go  down  to  your  grog,  boys,  go  down  every  one, 
ita  down  to  your  grtg-,  bo\s,  and  be  of  good  cheer, 
Fjw  while  «e  have  sea  room,  my  boys,  never  harm, 

THE  LA*^, 

QOME  list  to  roe  for  a  minute, 
A  song  I'm  going  to  begin  it, 

Ther©*s  something  serious  in  it. 

So  pray  your  attention  draw, 

Ti«  all  about  the  law. 

Which  has  such  a  deuce  of  aelaiFy 
Sxpericnce  I  hav«  bought  it. 
And  now  to  30U  have  brought 
Will  you,  or  not  be  taught  ilP 
I  «ing  the  charms  of]  aw. 

L,  A,  w, — Law, 
vhich  hu  euch  a  deuce  of  n  daw^ 


If  you're  fond  of  pare  v#xatt«B« 
And  sweet  proeruadn^tion, 
You're  juxt  in  a  sitiiatioB, 
To  enjoy  a  suit  at  law. 

w^h«n  your  cmso  is  fiisi  beginning. 
You  only  think  of  winning. 
Attorneys ^lily  j;rinuin|^, 
I'ben  while  ihecash  they  draw. 
Vour  cause  goes  on  see- saw, 
AS  long  as  your  cash  they  draw, 
with  brief  and  consultalioo, 
Bill  and  replication, 
Latin  and  botheration, 
while  the  coun»«l  loudly  jaw, 

J,  A,  w,-Jaw, 
Is  a  very  g(eut  thiag  in  la*-. 

S«ail-!ike  your  cause  is  creeping. 
It  binders  you  from  sleeping, 
attorneys  only  reaping. 
For  still  the  cadi  they  draw. 

D,  R,  A,  W— Draw, 
Is  the  mainspring  of  ihe  taw  I 
MiKcry,  toil,  and  trouble, 
Make  up  the  hubble-bubble^ 
Leave  you  nothing  but  stubble, 
And  make  you  a  man  tf  straw  I 

S,  1 ,  R,  A,  W«»-St;aw. 
Divile  the  wheat  from  the  stiaw. 

And  when  your  cause  is  ending. 
Your  case  is  no  ways  tnoiug, 
Expense  each  step  attending. 
And  then  they  fmd  a  flaw, 
Then  the  judge  like  any  Jackdaw, 
will  lay  down  what  is  law. 
In  a  rotten  stick  your  trust  is. 
You  find  the  bubble  burst  is. 
And  though  you  don\  get  jusltee,' 
Y  ou're  sure  to  get  plency  of  law ! 

>  nd  L,  A,  W— Law. 
Leaves  you  not  worth  a  straw. 
80  if  life'a  all  sogar  and  honey,    ^ 
And  fortune  has  aljitys  been  sunay 
And  you  want  to  get  rid  of  y\m 

money, 
rd  advise  you  to  go  to  law. 
Like  ice  in  a  rapid  thaw. 
Your  cash  will  melt  awa'. 
Comforts  'tis  folly  to  care  for^. 
Life**  a  lottery*- ^therefore* 
>\  ithjol  a  why  or  «  wherefore,)  r 
Td  advise  tou  to  eo  to  law  ! 
And  L,  A,  W— Law. 
Docf  liko  a  bUiter  draw. 


Til£  rPiKiJ  Y 


Twa8  ilnuu  niHvotul«T.i'r*i>vf  He.  v»viit(  wjiiisf — 

AljH  he,ctiancM,im«  jv  to  m-et  a  prettv  !iiHi<l..- 

AiiH  tlii^  w^s  Ills  .soii«r  as»lie,walk*«i  along, 
4*ret tyrn  n\  v<)U-are«of 'hi<xli  dt^j:r<ce;  . 
It'  1  shpulfl  fall  ill  ilove  auii .  yuur. parents 

sli()uldkH(>»v, 
TJie  next  tl»inj<  tbey'11  send  i^ne  tosea;^ 

S>  vvhfea  liferiaged^jaivntx  cmim  i'orto  kh^w 
The  ptougfi  bov  ^vaH^>loll<;•}^ini!;  on  the  plain,  . 
A  pres^-gana  they  vseatand  press'd  him  away, 
Aud  sent,  him  to  the  wans  to  be  siaia.. 

Then  siiedress'd  her^eUiall  in  her  best. 
And  her  pivkers  w^re  wfll  iin'd  with  j^old, 
A*»d  she  trmliied. .  ilm  streets  with  tears  ui 

li^r-cves  • 
Ia  search  of  her  jolly  sailor  boy.;, 

Theiir^st  that  she  met  was  a  jolly  sailor, 
Basfe.vou  seen  my  pfetty  plough  boy  she 

ery'd, 
He'sjust  rross'd  the  deep  and  sailing  ("or  the 

ileet, 
Tlien  he  said' pretty  jnaid  iviJl  you  ride. 

She  »*ud  6?.  tillshe  came  to  the  ship  her  lover 

was  in, 
Then  unto  the  (captain  di  i  complain, 
Said  she   I'm  come  to  seek  tor  my  pretty 

plougli  boy 
I'bat  was  sent  to  the  wars  to  be  slain. 

A  huudred  bright  giiineas  she  i'reely  pull'd 

OUtj 

And  gently  she  told  th^»n  aM  o'er; 

And  vvjien   she'd  got  iier  pretty  plough  boy 

in  Jier  anns, 
!>he  hiigg'd  him  till  she  got  him  safe  on  shore 

And  <  when  she'd  got  her  pretty  boy  in  her 

arms 
Where  olten  times  he  had  been  before, 
•'Jhe  ^et  the  belh  to  ring  ati^l  sweeMy  (ih\  «^in^ 
ii4?i'-iAU3,t;.s.lie!, meit  Ih^iiMi .•*iie:.did .ad.j>v«,.:. 


TUGll 


'I   POLLY,  love,0  Polly, , love,  the  rotit  it  is  begun 
A  lid  wemuHt  away  at  the  sound  of  thedrmn; 
G  )  (Ire-^s  V  'istself  itt  all  your  1  test  and  <j,o  alonjj;  with  me^ 
A  lid  rn  takti. you  to  the^wars  invhit^h  Geruiany. 

0;*iiy  dearest  Hilly',  mind  whuty  u  sny, 
\1  y  feet  they  are  s<ire.  I  car.not  ma  eh  avvav :   ' 
B^sidt's  mv  dearest  Billy,  1  am  xv  th  child  by  thee,  -. 
Not  fitting  for  the ; wars  in- hijfh:  Germany. 

I  Will  buy  you  a  horse,  if  t>iy  Polly  can  rid^, 
A  lid  manv  a  long  ni;:;ht  T  wrll  march    y  her  side  ; 
We'll  drink  M  erery  alehouse  thnt    'er  we  ct>me  uigh,  , 
AQ(\  well  travel  on  the  roa<l  sweetcPolly  and  I. 

0  PollyloVe,  O  Polly  love,  I  like  you  very  well. 
There  are  few  in  this  place  my  Pollv  can  excel  ; 

But  when  yoxir  haby  is  born  love,  and  sits  sm  ling  ©n 

your  knee, 
Y6a  will  think  un  your  Billy  that  is  in  high  Germany, 

Down  in  yonder  valley  Pll  make  for  him  a  bed. 
And  the  sweetest  of  roses  shall' be  his  cover  et  ; 
^Vith  pinks  and  sweet  >'ioletsl  will  adorn  hi's  feet, 
Wherf^the  fishes  are  charaied,  the  music  is  st>  sweet. 

(>  Polly  love,  O  Polly  love,  pray  give  me  your  hand. 
And  proini:>e  v<'u  will,  marry  me  when  1  come  to  Old 
England; 

1  give  y  ai  my  right  hand    1  will  not  marri'd  l>e 
Till  you  come  from  the. wars  in  high  Germany. _,,. 

Woe  be  to  the  wars  that  the    began, ; 
P'or  they  ha  .e  press'd  my  Billy  and  mniy  a  clever  ma- 
V<yr  thcv  have  press'd  mv  Bflly,  no  nior-  I  shnll  him  jte«  , 
A^ljd  so  cold  will  l>e»his  gravtHin,higb.Germ«Hiy. 

TT«'  drtims  that  beat  is  covered  witti  greei. 
The  p-ett\  lambsa  sp>rting  mu«-"h  plea'^ure  to  h   <een  , 
Mav  the  bird    on  the  Vanchfes  hin'ie-    m    dowr,taL 
Tbeleaving  of'my  tr  e  lov«  {jriev-.'»n)e-the  v/or-H  oi  aU 


P ADDIS   flERMilD. 


K.  HODGES  from   PITTS,   Wholesale  Toy 
aiju  AJarble  \Varehouse,31,,       .^.^  - 1.  7  Dials- 

DON  r  BE  ANGRY  MOTHER. 

Doii'l  be  angry,  motber,  raothfr, 
Let  your  smiles  be  smiles  ol  joy; 
Don't  be  ang  y,  moiher,  mother, 
D®n't  be  angry  with  your  boy. 
Y.  ars  liave  parsed  and  we've  been  pat  ted, 

You  liuve  iraver.-.ed  o'er  the  sea. 
Whilst  your  boy  quite  broken  hearted, 
Ne'er  hath  ceased  to  tiiink  of  thee. 

Don't  be  «ngry,  &c. 

Don  t  bp  angry,  mother,  mother,  • 

Lit  the  world  say  what  it  will ; 
Tliou.h  I  don't  deserve  thy  favour, 

Yet  I  fondly  love  thee  still. 
Believe  not  what  th  -  world  may  fell  you. 

Since  that  parti  d  \\e  have  been  ; 
But  the  fute  tiiat  hath  befel  me, 

And  try  't'>  love  your  boy  ai^ain. 

Don't  be  angry,  Sec. 

Pray  remember,  mother,  mother, 
In  your  absence  Tve  been  spurned  : 

^ovr  i  only  ask  one  favour- 
Smile  on  me  now  you're  returued, 

Many  a  night  both  wet  and  weary, 
I  have  sat  beside  the  door. 

"Where  my  childhood's  hours  passed  cheery. 
And  sighed  tu  call  them  mine  no  more. 
Do'nt  be  angry,  &c. 

PADDY  MILES  AND  THE  MERMAID 


ii 


pADDY  Miles  was  a  fisherman,  young  and 
•■'      li-ht-hearteH, 

And  a  very  esp>  c  able  living  did  get, 
Exceptjwhen  the  ocean  his  hard  labours  thwarted 

Then  it  wa^'nt  all  profit  that  came  to  hs  net. 
He  wanted  but  ono  th.ng,  and  that  was  a  wife,sir. 

To  keep  his  mud  man-ion  in  order  arrayed  ; 
Say  P'it,  I've  caught  man\  things  in  ray  life,  sir, 

The  most  difficult  thing  is  in  catching  a  maid. 

One  day  pat  was  fishing  upon  the  salt  ocean. 
And  catching  fresh  herrings  and  sprats  in  galore. 
When  a  dght  met  his  eye,  put  him  all  in  com- 
motion. 

Such  a  one  in  his  life  he  bad  ne'er  seen  before 
Twasa  beautiful  mermaid  as  naked  as  Yenu<, 

/  washing  herself  and  combing  her,  hair;  (us. 
gays  Paddy,  Therein  only  a  few  waves  between 

I'll  wave  thwi  and  row  along  side  of  my  fair. 

Guo^  morning  mv  sweet  water  wagtail,  cried 
■Paddy, 
I  blush  to  bdhold  you  a  floundering  about , 
Quite  stripped  to  your  skiu,  are  yuu  sure  that 
your  I  ftddy 


And  mammy's  awaie  that  your  ma'^«hip   is 

out  ?  [c  u  1 

For  surprising  you  thus,  an«»el,  dont  think  me 

ijil      'Twas  .seeing  you  in  tlie  sea  t.iking'  such  dabs, 

Theie's  notijng  like  cleanliness,  u   there  my 

No  douljt  its  a  rare  place  for  catching  thecnbs. 
She  rej)lied  with  a  w  nk,  Mr,  P.it,  Ive  a  no  ioti 
You  want  to  be  green  cos  you  live  on  green 
land, 
How  ca  I  I  be  out  when  ihe  bed  of  the  ocean 

Is  my  downy  bed,  tho  its  made  out  of  sand. 
Says    Pat,  Oh'  fur  shame,  \oa  may  ti»ink  me 
of- fish-US 
Tf  you  are  a  maid  its  to  me  very  odd  [cious, 
Youre  a  V3ry  loose  fisli  though  you  look  »>  djii- 
I'o  s'eep  in  a  bed  with  a  salmon  or  — . 
Well  [m  sure,  Mr.  Pat,  now,  says  she,  and  tha 
fiat  now,  [loos 

You   aie  a  nastv  bnse  fellow  for  thinking  n 
Then  to  all  the  soft  roes  dont  I  turn  up  my  no  t 
If  ever  they  venture  to  crU  me  a  goos^ , 
Saps  Pat,  I  ax  pardon,  mp  little  diviniy, 
Come  home  sweet  Ann  Cnovy,  111  make  you  my  -^ 

bride. 
Put  your  fin  to  mine,  tho  there  s  little  affinity, 
H/And  your  fles  >  and  mine  will  be  flesh  fiishifi-'d. 

AltWlh  ^^-y  ^^^'^  I  shall  be  like  a  fi  h  out  of  water, 
,17      IVe  never  seen  Ireland,  says  Pat,  you've  si  ca 
M  whales. 

j^jlljjjl  You  sweet  little  fish-fag,  I  give  you  fair  quarter 
jjjljfll],  Weigh  it  well  in  your  mind,  you  ve  got  plenty 
*J;'  of  scales.  [yourawddy 

^^  Take  the  weeds  from  >our  hair,  or  they'll  sweai' 
Lets  take    to  our   heels,  love,  and  akate  off 
apace, 
I  ve  plenty  of  music,  my  Bi  lingsgHte  BidJy, 
And  1  shall  be  toe  sole  thai  shall  tickle  you* 
plaice.  [draggiug 

All  the  time  Pat  was  coaxing,  bis  net  he  kept 
Determined  she  shou'dn't  sing  long   I  m  nfloat,  | 
H'er  little  green  tail  kept  on  waggngafnd  wag-  I 
ging,  '  [buat 

Till  be  caught  it  and  pulled  it  slap  into  the 
Bnt  judge  Paddys  fe«lings,  when,  quizzing  her, 
well,  he 
Found  out  he  was  balked  in  bis  amorous  wish. 
She  was  only  a  female  just  down  to  her  b 
And  what  should  have  been  mufon  was  nothing 
but  fiah  !  [your  mother. 

Says    Pat,  you  base  minx,   if  you' e  made  like 
How  your  father  ma-ie  you  is  a  puzze  to  me, 
Tis  true  you  re  a  maid  made  unlike  any  other. 
And  a  maid  all  y  o  ur  life  time  you  are  Hkcly 
to  be.  daddy 

Go  back  to   your  s  a  hoBfie  and  6»<   salnooa 
Then  p!ump  in   the  sea  the  fish  fag  he  threw 
Givt^  me  my  own  dearest  sweetheart,s^j  sPuddjf 
So  nicely  drt&oed  iu  her  satm  50  blue. 


4 


•5  S  W  32  sa  a* 

gJANE  Ob'  TY8JONE 


U  N  D  E  R  T  A  K  E  11 S 
C  L  U  15. 

f^^NK   n'Ejht  bpinsf  pressfMl  by  old  friend  Cul>b, 

1  o  iro  to  an  Uitue^  tiker's  Club, 
I  V.  furnish  you  all  with  if  1  d.irc* 
^Vi(h  a  inoriiful  aucout  of  tliis  grave  affair. 
For  S!j<lr  a  hlnck  looking  lot  is  the  oIiiU  oV 
CuderUkP's,  sui.h  a  black  Imjkiug  set, 
You  never  did  see, 

Tliis  se'faiame  claH  and  House  ».r  Calf, 
"XViis  iield  j»t  HIackheath  or  Blackwal', 
The  landlord's  rinme  it  wa:<  Blackuiore, 
Aud  an  African,  chief  hung  over  the- door; 

Such;  &c< 

The  undertakers  had  alt  met,. 

They  were  dressed  in  black  a  dingey  sef,. 

The  picture  frames  where  black-  &  so  was  the  walls 

And  the  window  curtains  w«re  made  of  palla. 

Tlje  stove  black  leaded  not  long  had  been, 
l)n  the  table  laid  Blackwood's  magazine, 
Tfie  Gar[>et  was  black  and  so  was  each  cliair» 
The  chuirnjun.had  black  whiskers  and  raven  hair. 

TBe  supper  was  laid  there  was  lots  of  Mack  game. 
WitLpolonies  in  morning  to  motto  the  same, 
There  was  black-bird  pi'"8  Si  nothing  but  good'uri's 
And  quantity  of  good  black  puddings, 
'fhe  knives  were  black  and' so  was  the  forks, 
Black  strap  in  b'ack  botlles  with  black  sealed  corks 
Ti;e  rules  of  tlie  cinb  was  done  in  black  figures, 
And  the  waiters  Si  cooks  were  all  of  them  niguros 
Tlie  dejert  was  black  grapes  and  blackheart  c'lerries 
Black  currants  and  imil berries,  and  black  berries. 

^unesafd  elderwine  was  there. 
Which  }ast  mado  np  this  black  bill  affair. 
Slisler  Sable  sung  and  wliat  should  be  chooseon, 
But  the  favorite  ballad  of  black-e)'ed  Susan. 
The  cold  back  s^ead,  Mr,  Hatband  chose> 
Aiid- Merryhall  snng  coal  black  Rose. 

Tiie  best  that  was  sung  and  all  did  confess, 
Mas  the  favorite  song  of  my  bonny  black. 
The  Ch  rmau  then  whistled  when  is  tbro^tt  was  clear 
^'itt  the  favorite  ^raud  «jarch  f'roga  black  beard. , 


IL'.^  flODGES.  Pr;ntcr,(from  Pitf^)   NVIioh^s  de  Toy 
P  NVurehowSe,  ai,   Dodley  Street,  7  U.als. 


m 


"ffir " 


>j  y  father  oft  told  n»e  lie  woiild  not  controlf-  tn<>* 
llcM  make  me  a  dia|K;r,  \»M;utUl  i  sJay  at  bo;:ie^ 

But  I  took  a  notion,  to  a  h'gher  promo  inii; 

Fur  to  try  other  parts  in  the  yoaniy  ui'.  T.yro:iP. 

It  was  in  varianco  I  pajtedfrotn  n>y  parents 
So  little  they  knew  tlie  road  I  iiad  go-'if, 
But  think  my  instructor  and  K-iiul  cirsdnctdi-. 
That  landed  me  safe  from,  llie  tomily  Tyroi.e. 

When  I  came  from  Newry  I  fdl  a  weaving, 
I  courted  a  girl  fl»r  a.wifa  (it  my  i;w  », 
VVitli  quit;k  apprebtnsion  sht-  {jnukl\  made  m  ^utiwiii. 
Saying  where  is   your  chiuactcr  you  broU^iU  iro.ii 
Tyrone* 

As  for  my  characlPr  yon  \Ket\  neyer  mind  if, 
i  never  was  married  nor  promised  la  onr, 
She  swor  by  her  eonsciemje  she  wouhl  run  allchance 
And  Havel  with  me  the  couuly  tyrone. 


S<^       Kirly  one  mornm'xjnst  as  the  sun  was  rising, 
||j|)  We  travelled  from  Kidcock  by  three  mile  stone 

The  guard  they  persued  us  but  never  could  view  us. 

I  wished  from  my  heart  l*d  my  love  in  Tyromf. 


As  we  were  a  walking  and  lovingly  talking, 
i^  we  met  witli  an  old  man  that  was  all  alone, 
^^  He  told  tliem  he  met  us  &  where  they  could  get  .us  . 
^^  That  we  was  a  talking  of  the  county  Tyrone. 

hx^  This  eased  their  trouble  their  steps  they  did  double 
mi'^  They  swore  if  they  caught  nje  they'd  break  all  mjr 
bones,  (me 

Thev  swore  iftliey  got  me  a  prisoner  t!iey*d  make 
Tran.sport  me  to  Antigua,  hang  me  m  Tyrone. 


A  canal  b^ing  nii;!)  where  vessels  did  lie. 
And  all  my  whole  story  to  them  I  made  known,  ^ 
They  tbrew  a  plank  to  us  on  board  tliey  drew  us, 
rhey  told  us  the  .fessel  was  bound  for  Tyrone.^ 

As  my  love  lay  a  pining,  lamenting  and  dyings ^ 
I  offereil  her  cor(,lials  which  1  brought  from  home  v 
With  a  apprehension  she  quickly  made  mention. 
Love  I'ii  be  without  them  till  1  come  to  Tyrone. 

When  tbat  we  were  landed  in  our  native  country 
Then  all  my  whole  story  to  my  parents  made  known 
Five  hundred  pounds  hegaveusifthatwhouldnotdo 
They  cr»wn  us  with  glory  in  the  county  Tyrone. 

These  two  lives  together  in  joy  &  great  pleasura 
And  if  you  want  to  see  thera  you  must  go  to  Tyrone, 
My  lov    s  name  to  finish  is  miss  Jenny  Inuiss,  * 
And  myself  is  hold  Magnus  in  the  county  Tyrone. 


ill) 


A  I.L  IS   r.OST  NOW 

^Ll.  is  lost  now!  oh  for  me 

I.ovii'.s  sun  ir*  .*»ot  for  ever! 
1  liis  |)fH>i  lie«Ft  in  future  never, 

Not  one  hope  of  I)lift;s  can  see, 
lleiK'*i!  hence!  thou  lost  owe  :  i 

Go,  ungratetul ! 
'1  hou  away  all  hope  hath  driven  ; 

(to,  un;;ratefiil  ! 
S-v'**  these  looks  so  fraught  witli  sadness: 
( 'H«e  this  I  eart  wax  hllM  with  j^latlnes^  : 
>,()w  'tis  di'ivt-n  into  nia<lness — 
^'ii*le  unnappy  still,  by  thee. 


MILL  SO  OKMLY  OER  ME  STKAUNG 

^fill  so  iiently  oVr  nie  stealmi?, 
Meni'ry  vNill  hrini(  hack  the  feeling, 
^'♦Mte  oi'ail  my  giief  revealin.yr, 
t  hat  I  love  tlite,  that  i  dearly  love  thee 

still, 
'M.n*  s<!nie  other  swain  may  charm  the^, 
Ah  !    no  other  eVr  <-an  warm  me, 
W  i  \w\^r  liar,  I  \Nill  n(»t  harm  thee, 
No,  thou  false  nrje,  no,  no,  I  fbndiv  love 

thee  still. 
J:^ee  tho.-e  lo<»ks  so  fraught  with  sadness, 
(yta  e  njy  heart  was  fdled  with  gladness, 
Now  'tis  (iriveii  inTo  madness, 
^.ade -indiappy,  made  nnha])pv,   still  by 

thee ; 
'^'e*,  souie  other  swain  may  claim  thee, 
''•tdl  nnt)tljer  e'er  can  warm  me, 
i-vnv  not  the^i,  1  will  not  harm  tliee, 
IS<>,  talseoiie,  no,  I  love  thet'  still, 
I  in\f  ihee,  false  one,  .<till. 
i)(i.st  thou  speaiv  of  me  when  dreaming? 
''  hrn  a  ray  ot  li^dit  isbeaminj;, 
A  !.(1  thy  innocence  is  ^rleaming, 
(1i  1  I  love  ti.ee,  oh!  1  dearly  love  thee  still 
^o^v  no  other  swiiin  '^au  claini  thee, 
^J'hoii  my  love  shall  ever  warm  me 
Ajid  I  sNiear  I  will  not  harm  thee, 
\i  s,  dear  one,  yes,  1  lovethee  still, 
io\  e  thee,  dear  one,  still. 


M 


M 


m 


THE  POOR  OLD  \vork-oi;t 
SAILOR 

^)NE  summer's  eve,  all  labour  o'er. 

And  birds  wen*  sweietly  singiiuf, 
A  floor  old  tar,  worn  out  with  ajfw 

Thru'  our  village  canje  a  begging, 
I  pititnl  bissud  moururul  tale, 

Fur  at  pit)  I'm  no  railer, 
Pray,  bestow  yuur  cliarity  !  said  he, 

On  apooruld  worn- out  sailor* 

When  fwise  reports  came  home  I  was  dwMt 

My  poor  wife  died  broken-heaitci^ 
^'\  datJghlershe  roam'd  1  knew  not  where. 

And  for  ever  more  l»»  bi*  parVe<l, 
I  waHwreck'd  «  f  all  in  thisAiorid  1  held  riear, 

Puor  girl !    1  oft  bewail  her, 
If  I  touid  but  iiei  find,  slie'd  a  comfort  be, 

To  a  jMior  old  woru-nut  sailor. 

Despise  my  Imll,  I  pray  now  don't 

'i'ttiise  r\e  got  shabby  r'f>gi»)|if, 
rd  rather  work,  if  1  had  my  liuib;*. 

Than  id  b<.'  »e*'n  a  bej;gin)(. 
For  I'm  like  a  ship  dititrtiiii'  at»ea,  v-*'' 

Without  oneiri(nd  to  hail  her, 
Tlun  pray  bestuw  yvxir  ehurity.  ^ji] 

On  a  poor  old  Hom-oulsailor.  ■> 

Ak  thuii  he  song  bi.s  mourtifui  tale, 

A  female  giized  upon  him, 
She  biir>t  Into  It  ars  in  transport  wiW, 

And  i>ui>k  upon  hi«  ho^om, 
Oh  father  !  she  tried,  for  'twas  <  hild, 

Wh«'i*e  duty  nt'er  had  fuild  lier. 
Come  you  home,  and  live  and  die  wit    m« 

You  poor  old  worn-out  <aiU)r. 

For  I'v**  a  home,  and  a  hu>>butid  dear, 

Mo»l  kijidly  he  will  tnat  >o», 
AHho'  your  p«i>r  aiid  t  loth'd  i«  rags, 

Kighl  welcome  he  will  j;reet  you. 
And  vvben  you  resijuu  )our  pariing  hreftth 

My  duty  ^hall  ue'ei  know  laiiwre, 
I'll  yiev  }ou  hiid  iu  your  silent  j;iave, 

1  kiu  poor  old  ^oi«-out  a>uilor.  /f' 


■^ 


F,  H(k1^p«  from  Prix's  Toy  &i  Marble 
V  arcl.ou6€.  31,  MoLmouth  Street,    7  Diais. 


F.  HoDCKsfrom  Vvvi'>  Toy  and  Ma#ble 
W  arehouM',  31,  Wouuivttth  SHcet,  /  l)ittlf 


<f 


ENGr^iHiD. 


^  LOOK  ALWAYS  ON 


iW\^ //iVowx/yiK -^^m^/?^ :^M<>-m  zfJK >sR;^-;57i?c^<;'/iKm ^msmsyfi^ 

E.  HODGES  (from  Titts,';  Printer,  VVl.olcsale  Toy 
aud   Marble    \Var<  house,    No    31,  \  Street 

Scvpn  Cia!s. 


Come  all  you  vomen  if  you  wish  to  change  your  life 
riong  for  to  be  married  and  1  want  to  get  a  wife, 
She  must  be  very  handsome,  notsbort  but  rather  tall,   ^ 
I  want  a  wife  with  money  too  for  I've  got  none  at  all.    ^ 

VVlien  I've  got  a  wife  my  friend  as  soon  as  we  are  wed  ^ 

Tlnn  I  shall  want  a  bedstead,  a  bolster  and  a  bed,  ^^ 

And  I  shall  want  some  blankets,  pillows, quilt  &  sheets  s^ 

And  1  sliall  want  a  table  some  chairs  i»  stools  for  se<.ls  kf^ 

And  when  Vm  mai^  I  shall  waj»t  to  take  a  room,  0^ 

And  I  hball  want  a  dustpan,  a  shovef  and  a  broom,  aj^ 

And  1  shall  want  a  kettle,  i  Saucepan  and  a  pot,  s^ 

And  a  thin;:  thing  that's  got'a;hairdle.caJi'd  a  chamber  ^ 

you  know  what.  ^^ 

No*  I  shidl  want  a  poker,  and  a  pair  (^f  ton^s,  ^ 

And  I  shall  want  a  toasting  fork,  the  handle  must  be  W, 

And  I  shall  want  a  fender  &  I  shall  wt.nt  a  clock  (iong  ^v; 

Aud  I  sliall  want  a  cradle  the  little  ones  to  rock.  -  ^ 

I  shall  want  some  cupa  ^.  saucers  some  dishes  Si  ph'es  ^^ 

I  shall  want  some  wood  and  coal,  for  fire  in  the  grate,  ^ 

When  I  m  in  a  hurry  &  the  fire  is  gf  tiing  low,  j.  ^, 

1  shall  want  a  pair  of  bellows  the  fire  for  to  blowl  ^ 

1  shall  want  some  knives  &  forks  some  basins  &  spoons  s^ 
And  I  shall  want  a  fiddle  to  play  some  merry  tunes,  '  s^ 
1  shall  want  a  candleslic!*,  coffeepot  and  fiying-p»n,  ^^ 
And  I  shall  want  a  bottle  too,  and  a  water  can. 


I  shall  want  a  lock  and  key  and  cupboard  for.tbegru 
And  I  shall  want  a  water-butt,  puil  and  washing-tub. 
And  I  shall  want  a  scrubbing  brush  and  Tw^tpa  mat 
I  shall  want  a  bit  of  this  and  a  bit  of  that..> 

And  I  -shall  want  a  pegging  awl,  bristles  and  tacU, 
Ana  I  shall  vant  some  bristles  and  a  ball  cf  wax, 
And  I  shall  want  a  lapstone,  then  1  want  a  job 
And  I  shall  want  £ome  leather  fr  I'm  by  tradeas  ob 


*^' 


THE 


SUNNY  SIDE 


1.0 OK  always  on  the  sunpy  sid^— 

•^'Tis  wise  and  better  far,  - 

And  safer  thioiigh  life's  cares  to  glide, 

Beneath  hopes  beaming  star. 
The  springs  ulrbsf  laughter  lie, 

Close  by  the  well  of  tears,. 
Yet  why  should  meriy  fancies  die. 

Drcwu'd  in  a  ftuod  of  tea  s  .'^ 
Look  always  on  the  sunny  side — ' 

'Tis  wise  iind  better  far. 
And  safer  through  life's  cares  to  glid 

Beneath  hopec>  beaming  «tar. 

L  o'^  al  va\  s  on  the  sunny  side— 

I  he  guiltless  bosom  can  : 
Nur  tremble  *midbt  life's  roughest  tiil«, 

1 1  is  not  worthy  man. 
Wh>  should  the  heart  with  vain  regreti 

Bieik  jo)'8  enchanting  spells  ? 
Tliough  age  be  come,  love  lingers  yet, 

In  every  flowery  dell 
Look  nlways  6n  the  sunny  side— 

'T.s  wise  and  better  far, 
And  8  ifcr  thiough  life's carrs  (o  glide, 

B"n -aih  hope's  beaming  star. 


-    ^SEA-OIRT    ENGL  VXD 
(a  chorus.) 

Sea  gin  England— fertil*  land. 

Plenty  from  her  richest  stores, 
Ev  r  with  benignant  hand, 

Her  treasure  on  your  bosom  pourg. 
England,  to  yourself  be  true, 

When  your  realm  is  truly  blesf, 
'  I  id  when  a  monarch's  love  for  yocr^ 

Is  |?v  your  loyally  confess'd. 


.>  .>T1CE-E.  Hodges  has  RcD.ove.^  from  31    D.  dley  St,  to  26,  Graft^n-stret't,  Soho 


r-4^ 


A  W 


MARY    MACHREE 

KODGES,   Printer,    (from   PITT  S)  wLolesale. 
Toy  -vVarehouse,  31,  Dudley  Street  7  Dials 

TfiE  flower  of  the  valley  was  Mary  Machree, 
Hec  smiles  a'l  bswitcbiug  were  lovely  to  see. 
The  bees  louud  her  humming  when  summer  was 

gone, 
And  the  roses  were  fled,  might  take  her  Hp  for  one 
Her  laugl)  it  was  music,  her  breath  it  was  balm. 
Her  heart,  like  the  lake,  was  as  pure  and  as  calm. 
Till  love  o'ercame,  like  a  breeze  o*er  the  sea, 
And  made  the  heart  heave  of  sweet  Mary  Macbree* 

She  loved  and  she  wept,  nor  was  sadness  e*er  known 
To  dwell  in  tlie  bosom  that  love  makes  its  own  ; 
His  joys  are  but  moments,  his  griefs  are  for  years. 
He  comes  all  in  smdes,  but  he  leaves  all  in  tears. 
Her  lover  was  sjone  to  a  far  distant  land, 
And  Mary  in  sicknes>s  would  pace  the  lone  strand^ 
And  tearfully  gaze  on  the  dark  rolling  sea. 
That  putted  her  lover  from  Mary  Machree; 


/  — — = 

^         FIFTEEN  SHILLINGS  A 

A  MAN  and  bis  wife  in  — —  street, 
with  seven  children  young  and  sweet* 
Had  a  jolly  row  last  night  complete, 

Aboui  fifteen  shillings  a  week,  sin. 
He  gave  his  wife  a  clumsy  clout, 
Sav'ng  how  is  all  my  money  laid  out. 
Tell  me  quickly,  he  did  shout. 
And  then  slie  soon  did  set  about. 
Beckoning  up  without  delay, 
;    what  she  laid  out  from  day  to  day, 
You  shall  know  what's  done,  the  wife  did  say, 
with  fifteen  shillings  a  week,  sir. 

Seven  cliildren  to  feed  and  find  in  clothes. 
And  to  his  wife  he  did  propose. 
To  reckon  how  the  money  goes, 
His  fifteen  shillings  a  week,  sir. 

Threepence  halfpenny  a  \\eek  for  milk  n  spent. 
One  and  ninepeuce  a  week  for  rent. 
Vol  the  ch  Id  a  penny  for  peppermint, 
>■ ,     •  Out  of  fifteeu  sliiliingi  a  week,  sir. 
For  tobacco  cij^hipihce  every  week. 
Half  a  crown  for  butcher's  meat. 
And  tomake  your  tea  complete,  ..^^ 

%A  three  farthing  bloater  fur  a  treat. 


f 


r 


A  penny  a  week  for  cotton  and  thread, 
List  Sunday  tenpcnce  a  .small  slie^p'»  head ; 
Ninepenceballpe  my  a  day  for  bread. 
Out  of  fifteen  shillin;;*  a  week,  sir. 

Potatoes  for  dinner  there  mast  be  found. 

And  tbt-re's  none  fur  1<  ss  tliaa  a  pe.my  a  pound, 

1  often  have  a  sixpenny  gown, 

Out  of  fifteen  shillings  a  wtek,sir. 
A  haporih  ol  stiirch  and  a  farthing  b'wc. 
Twopence  halfpenny  .soap  and  potash  too, 
A  pennorth  of  onions  to  make  a  stew, 
Thrise  halfpence  a  day  small  beer  for  you. 
Instead  of  butter,  hixpennorlh  of  fat, 
And  to  wipe  your  shoes  a  twopenny  mat, 
with  a  halfpenny  a  day  »o  feed  the  cat, 

Out  of  fifteen  shillings  a  week,  sir. 

Ninepence  a  week  for  old  dry  pe^. 
Sixpence  sugar  and  eighipence  tea. 
Pepper,  salt,  and  mustard,  farthin«rs  three. 

Out  of  fifteen  shillings  a  week,  sir. 
One  and  tenpence  halfpenny  understand,       ^ 
Every  week  for  fiing  out  of  hand. 
Threepence  halfpenny  candles   a  fartfiing  sand, 
And  threepence  to  bottom  the  fr\ingpan; 
A  twopenny  bioom  to  .sweep  the  dirt,  > 

Three  haporth  of  cloth  to  ro-  nd  your  shirt,      / 
Now  don't  you  think  you  are  greatly  hurt 

Out  of  fifteen  shillings  a  week,  sir  ? 

Clothes  for  Tommy,  Dick,  Sal,  Polly,  and  Jane, 
And  Jimmy  and  Betty  must  have  the  same  ; 
You  had  a  sixpenny  jacket  in  Petticoat  lane 

Out  of  fifteen  shillings  a  week,  sir ; 
For  shaving  a  halfpenny  twice  a  week, 
A  penny  to  cut  your  hair  so  neat. 
Threepence  for  the  seeks  upon  \our  feet, 
Last  week  you  bought  a  tt#npenuy  seat, 
Besides,  old  chap,  I  hud  most  forgot. 
You  gafe  a  penny  f.jr  a  kidney  pie  all  hot, 
And  threepence  for  an  old  brown  cliamber  pot, 

Out  of  filte«u  shillings  a  wt.ek,  sir. 

So  now  old  chap  you  plainly  see. 
If  you  can  i«ckon  as  well  as  me, 
There  is  iitll*  waste  in  our  family. 

Out  of  fifteen  shsllings  a  week,  sir. 
There's  many  a  woman  would  think  no  sin 
To  spend  the  whole  in  snuff  at>d  gin ;  > 

When  again  to  reckon  you  do  begin. 
Recollect  there's  a  lai thing  a  week  for  pins;    ■* 
To  make  things  right  my  best  I've  tried, 
That's  economy,  can't  be  d'^nied. 
Dear  wife,  said  he,  Tm  sal  sfied. 

Out  of  fifteen  shillij^s  a  week. 


So  you  women  all  the  kingdom  through. 
To  you  this  might  ..ppear  quite  new, 
Just  see  if  yuu  t  e  .s.iuie  can  do, 
_    with  fitteea  shilli.igi  a  week,  oh. 


W 


'i^t^ 


I 


m  WIFE'S  FIRST  Bkm 


THE    SCARLET    FLOWER 

^HE'S  gentle  as  ihe  zephyr, 
Ihar  sipio'ever,  svc -t, 
She'*s  f  irer  than  llie  fa  r.  si  lily. 

In  nature's  soft  retreat. 
Her  eyes  ure  ike  the  erystil  brook, 

As  bright  and  clear  to  see. 
Her  lip*  outshine  tlie  *,carlet  flo>v«% 

Of  bonny  Kll<  rSiie. 

O!',  were  my  love  a  bh  ssnm, 

When  fcummer  ski-  s  d'  part, 
T(\  plant  I'.er  in  my  l>o  om  — 

Her  gadtn,  here,  my  hearf ; 
jlid  oft  I'd  ki  s  her  balmy  lip", 

So  benutiful  lo  see 
That  far  outshines  the  Scarlet  flower, 

Of  bonny  Elierslie. 

MigSit  I  be  king  of  Scot'and's  throne. 

And  a'  the  world  b    i 'e, 
Riglit  glad  I'd  gr  my  crown  to  her, 

Tijut  lovt-ly  maiil,  my  bride. 
The  gateof  hejven  h  at  hei  lip, 

Denied,  ala?,  to  me, 
Thi  lip  which  shames  tl.e  Scarlet  Flower 

Of  bonny  JEllt  vslie. 


n 


m 


N 


MY  WIFE'S  FIRST  BABY. 

'H Bother  night  as  I  lay  in  my  bed, 
Along  with  my  wife  Mrs.  Bunning, 
he  said  Tom,  for  the  doctor  pray  run, 
For  I  think  our  first  baby  is  coming. 
1  dress'd  myself  quick,  yoii';l  suppose, 

The  snow  on  the  grotjnd  was  fast  falling, 
Sliut  the  door  and  was  cutting  away? 

VVlien  the  policeman  sent  me  a  sprawling 

i'lollo,  my  fine  fellow,  said  he,  (hour, 

I     ^oirvebeen  robl-ing  tise  house  of  a  neigii- 
»n  vain  I  implorevi  lo  \)e  free, 
And  toUi  hi  s  njy  wii'c  was  in  labour; 


N 


n 

n 
u 


Said  he  then  yoti'll  soon  f  »]low  suit. 
For  conlin'd  you'll  be  1  maintain. 
To  the  station  witli  me  you  must  go. 
Your  tale  is  all  labour  in  va:n. 

The  inspector  on  duty  I  knew. 

And  got  off  very  pleased  witfi  his  answe 
For  he  said  the  policeman  should  go. 

And  find  out  rhe  nurse  Mrs.  Tanner, 
To  the  wrong  he  went,  and  then 

Very  loud  at  the  door  began  knocking. 
Oh,  they  emptied  the  contents  ot  the  po^^ 

On  his  head,  and  he  look'd  very  shockins 

The  doctor  he  made  matters  riorht, 

And  brought  forth  the  precious  sweet  baby 

Which  good  reason  I  had  to  d(^piore. 
For  the  treatment  1  get  is  so  shubby. 

My  bed  is  like  one  in  a  garden, 

Well  watered  each  night,  and  I'm  sure 
You  will  pity  my  case  when  I  say 
On  my  legs  1  oft  find  some  maiiuie. 

Son;etimes  I*m  awoke  in  the  night 

By  the  child  kicking  up  a  great  rout. 
Out  of  bed  Pm  obliged  for  to  get, 

And  I  trot  the  young  fellow  about. 
But  the  weather  is  so  very  cold, 

To  pity  nie  you'll  be  incliri'd. 
For  my  shirt  which  is  wet  thro'  and  thro', 

Keeps  Happing  against  my  behind. 

The  folks  tell  me  never  to  mind,  * 

My  feelings  1  always  sliould  smother; 
Tho'  this  may  be  all  very  well. 

But  my  wife  she  will  j-oon  have  another, 
she  is  such  rum'un  to  go, 

I  ought  to  have  plenty  of  riches, 
In  the  family  way  she  will  fall 

If  I  just  on  the  bed  throw  my  breeches. 

Of  these  to'my  wife  i  complain,  [it. 

And  I  tell  her  the  game  she  should  strilvo 
But  she  says  it's  ray  fault  and  not  her's, 

She'll  have  the  whole  lot  'cause  she  likes  it. 
So  1  try  to  bear  up  ail  1  can, 

Though  I  own  I'm  a  bit  ot  a  grumbler. 
Yet  it  is  belter  perhaps  after  all. 

'Ihan  to  be  caii'd  bv  tlie  w,)mca  a  fuuibler. 


HOCGES,   Printer,     ^trom    IM'ITS)    whole?ale. 
Tuy  "^Varehfruse,  31,  iJuuloy  Street  7  Dials 


,vaB»^ 


BRAVE 


m 


w 


M 


Kemember  the  glories  of  l^rian  the  brave, 

The  davs  o(  that  hero  are  o'er  ;  [i^rave 
Thoii<;h  lost  to  Maaoiiia  aiiitl  cold  i"  hM 

I Je  returns  to  Kiucoran  no  more  :[pour  d 
The  stars  of  the  field  that  so  often  haAe 

Its  beams  on  the  battle  is  set ;  [sword 
But  ewow^h  ofiiis  glory  remaius  on   his 

To  Jight  us  to  victogy  yet. 

Mamonja  when  nature  embellisird  thy  ten 
Of  thy  fields  and  thy  mountains  so  fair  ; 

Did  she  ever  intend  that  a  tyrant  should 
print. 
The  (<>otsteps  of  slavery  th^re  ;      (resign 

No  freedom  wlu*  srni!eswhe  shall  never 
Go  tell  our  invaders  the  deans  (thy  shrine 

"^I'hat    It's  sweeter  to  bleed  for  an  aj^e  at 

Than  to  sleep  but  one  moment  in  chains. 

Forget  not  your  wounded  companions  who 

stood,  ^? 

In  tlie  day  oftlistress  by  your  side,  .u 

When    the   moss   of  the  valley  grew  red  |j|| 
witti  their  blood,  ^  W 

They  stir'd  not  but  conqured  hnd  died  ;    ^ 
The  sun  that  now  blisses  our  arms  with  its 
light,  .sm 

^aw  them  fall  on  Ossory's  pfain*  (tonight 
Oh  let  him  noi  Idush  when  he  leaves  us 
1  o  tind  that  we  fell  tdere  in  vain. 


fUM 


JERfCMYDIDDLFJl  THE 

FIDO  LEE 

Mis  \i^holls  !o  l^cd  o\  thr  S.<t  f'l  >  »r 

All  «l  jy  ^nt  «t  fiigUt  ibe  did  por.*, 

O'er  novels,  love  aturie.  aiii  s  moiils^ 
'V\  itSin  t!u'  «auic  Iioti^e  up  stairs, 

Kesidf  <1  ou'  Jeremy  Diddier, 
N\  It  >  wes  one  of  ho?e  playliouse  p'ayer>, 
That's  cullM  by  tho  val^e'-  a  fibdler, 
51i-s  N.  h  id  a  music  d  eir. 
Aid  whilst  she^^er  bomiets  was  shaping. 
Her  l;e  rt  palpitated  t'>  licr, 

'I'he  fiddiet  de  ij^htfutly  gcr'pitig, 
©ne  eycnfnt?  she  ii.et  liiiu  and  slic 

Said  ?— How  d  ye  di>,  Mr  Di  Ulier, 
Kow  \sil\  you  (OHifj  iu  iird  take  tea. 

To  lesiire  1  will  said  the  fiJdler. 
^he  praiseil  up  his  tnasical  style. 

And  said  he  lUBiie  tiller's  quite  a  gay-ho) 
A  nd  be  in  return  witli  a  sm  le. 

Asked  if  she  would  ^b  to  the  playhou- 
Consenting  with  liini  there  she  w<^nt. 

AuJ  wlien  o'er  no  wed  he  did  wh  dl« 
Tha'  fur  sup  )^»r  five  sl»illiu<'s  she  spent 
J  'm  iu  a  gojd  t  ling,  thought  the  tiddler 

Next  day  lie  did  breakfast  aad  dine. 

And  ti-a  along  with  Mijs  Nicholls> 
And  drunK  up  her  spirits  and  wiae. 

Ana  pegged  awav  a:  her  vietuala. 
She  aiiNed  him  a  gay  tuue  to  play, 

Bui  iusiead  he  begau  to  tiddler, 
Miss  NichoUs  kuevv  n«.t  vvh«t  to  say^ 

She  wondere  i  so  much  at  t}e  ti  Jdlier, 

To  deceire  me  I  f»'ar  is  your  plan. 

Said  she  and  that'*8  i;o}  conipa'abia, 
Phoo  :'  siid  he  I'm  a  public  man. 

You  know  a/iJ  bin  always  com.  table 
She  did  uot  him  well  comprehend. 

For  shtt  wm  not  much  of  a  riddler, 
Atiliat  time  ;  but  at  olrc  months  eod* 

She  fouSd  out  the  rascally  fiddler. 

The  fiddlt-r  had  got  in  a  scrape, 

He  soon  saw  dy  Biliis's  apfcarance. 
And  guesstd  if  he  did  uot  escape. 

He  was  lixely  to  get  into  duiance, 
He  ran  cff— but  bow  strucK  one  night. 

In  the  orclietire  how  wa*  Mr.  Diddler  | 
When  he  saw    Miss  NicboU,  by  his  righ 

Who  stucK  iu  his  arms  a  young  fiddiet 
Tak0  warning,  ye  Lh  if  yc  can, 

And  don't  be  to  forward  or  ch^tabt^ 
Aud  remember  each  r.viilic  man* 

Your  corpus  is  aljwsys  com^'-at.lblf^ 
Mi»s  N.  tooK  h«r  babe  to  ehe  play,      x 

And  with  her  to  went  the  beadle  tbei^ 
And  fur  this  young^  bnby  to  pay,  ^ 

Away  lie  marclul  oft'wifh  the  fiddler. 

EfHodgcB,  Printers!,  Dudley  St.  ^Di' 


JT  was  down  the  lowlands  a  poor  boj  did 

Mfander, 

Pown  in  llie  lowlands  a  p'or  boy  did  roam 

JBy  liis  friends  he  was  neglected,  he  looked 

so  neglected,  from  home 

A  poor  little  fi.<hermans   boy   so  far  away 

Cfying  where  is  my  cottage,  or  where  is 
my  fatlier,  roam 

Alas,  they're  all  gone,  wlsich  causes  me  to 

Mother  died  upon  her  pillow,  for  my  fa- 
ther in  tlie  billow, 

^ried  the  poor  ti  tie  fisherman's  boy[|so  far 
away  from  home. 

0  bitter  was  ihi  night,  and  loudly  roared 

the  thunder, 
The  lightning  did  flash,  and  the  ship  was 

overcome,  ray  dative  ground 

The  mast  1  cla!>ped  S(<on,  and  I  reached 

my  native  gr-  und. 
In  the  deep  I  left  my  father,  and  far  away 

from  home. 

1  waited  on  the  beach  while  around  me 

rolled  the  water,  came 

I  waited  on  the  oeach,  but  alas^  no  father 

came,  danger, 

So  now  I  am  a  ranger,  exposed  to  eveiy 

danger,  far  away  from  home 

Then  a  lady  she  beard  him,  she  open'd  her 

window, 
Attd  into  her  house  she  bid  bira  to  come, 
"I'he  tears  fell  from  her  eves^  as  she  liblened 

to  his  mournful  crits,         from  home 
Of  the  poor  fisherniarrs  boy  so  far  away 

from  home. 

Then  she  beirged  of  her  father  to  find  him 

employment,  him  roam, 

She  beggt  d  of  her  father  no  more  to  let 

Then  her  father  said  dont  grieve  me,  the 

boy  he  shall  not  leave  me, 
Peer  boy  he  snail  not  leave  so  far  away 

from  home, 

ISlmiy  years  he  laboured  to  please  his  no- 
ble master,  became 
Many  years  he  Lboured  in  time  a  man 
And  now  he  tells  each  stranger  the  hard, 
ships  and  the  danger,  from  home 
Of  a  little  fisherman's  boy  when  far  awa 

y 


A    SOUHERLY   WIND 

clouFy  sky 

J^  SOUTHERLY  wind  and  e  clouHy  :,ky. 

Proclaims  a  hunting  morning, 
Before  the  sun  rise  we  nimbly  flv, 
Dull  sleep  and  a  drowsy  bed  scorning. 
To  horse  my  boys,  to  horse  away> 
The  chase  adm  Is  of  no  delay, 
On  horseback  we've  got,  together  we'll  Irof, 
On  horseb;.ck  we've  got,  together  we'll  Irot, 
F^eave  off  your  chat,  see  if  the  cover  apppar, 
The  hound  that  strikes  first  cheer  him  without 
fear,  hounds 

Drag  on  him,  ah  wind  him,  my  steady  good 
J)rag-  on  him,  ah    wind  him,  the  cover  re- 
sounds. 
How  completely  the  cover  and  farz«  they  draw 
Who  talks  of  Bany  or  Meyueil, 
Young  Lasher  he  flourishes  now  through  the 
And  Saucebix  roars  out  in  bis  kennel.         shaw 
Away  we  fly  as  quick  as  thought 
The  new  sown  ground  soon  makes  them  fault 
Cast  round  the  sheep's  train,  cast  round,  cast 
round, 
Trvback  the  deep  lane^try  back,  try  back. 
Hark  1  hear  some  bounds  challenge  in  yonder 

spring  sedge. 
Comfort  Bitch  bits  it  off  in  that  old  thick  hedge 
Hark  forward,  hark  forward,  have  at  him  my 
boys,  make  a  noise 

A  stormy  sky  ovorcharged  with  rain, 
Both  hounds  and  huntsmen  opposes. 
In  vain  on  your  mettle  you  try  boys  in  vain^ 
But  down  you  must  to  your  noses, 

Euch  moment  the  sky  now  grows  worse, 

Enough  to  make  a  parson  curse, 

Prick  through  the  ploughed  ground,  prick 

through,  prick  through, 

Well  hunted,  good    hounds,  well  hunted, 

well  hunted,  him  quake 

If  we  can   but   get  on   we   shall   soon  muke 

Hark,  1  hear    some   hounds  challenge  in  the 

midst  of  the  brake,  pain 

Tally    ho,  tally    oh,  there   gjb^oss'  the   green 

Tally  ho,  tally  oh,  boys  have  at  him  again. 

Thus  we  ride,  whip  and  spvr  for  a  two  hours' 
Our  horses  go  paniiug  and  sobbing,        chace. 
Young  Mad  Cap  and  Riot  begin  now  the  race 
Ride  on  Sir,  and  give  him  some  mobbing. 
But  hold,  ali'S,  you'll  spoil  our  sport. 
For  throi  gh  the  l^omnds  you'll   head  him 
short,  round 

Clap  round  him,  dear  Jack,  clap  round,  clap 
Hark,  Drummer,  bark  back,  Lurk  bach. 
He's  jumping  and  dancing  in  every  bush, 
Little  Riot  has  fastened  ber  teeth  in  his  brush 
Whoo'  hoop,  whoo,  hoop»  he's  fairly  rua 
down. 


HQjXJES,  Printer,  (from  Pitt's  )  Wholesale  Toj  Warehousc/31,  Dudley  jStreet,  7  Dials* 


O  U  N  S  L  O  \V 
POSTBOY. 


l!f>DGEs,  from  (T.  PITTS,)  Printer,  3l. 
Oiidley  Street,  late  Moninoutli  Street 
Seven  Dials.  Where  maybe  had  a 
great  Variety  of  Old  and  New  Songs 
ujways  ready,  country  Orders  sent  to 
any  part  of  the  World. 


I'M  a  HoutK->lo\v  young  lad  and  Tidy's  my  name 

«11  many  a  job  have  I  drove, 
never  crossed  a  naj:;  that  was  wind   gall*d  or 
But  always  had  such  as  would  move,  (lame 

A  \\^\\t  pair  of  buckskins  and  boots  jetty  black, 

wv  spurs  ever  polisli'd  and  smart, 

A  trim  little  jacket  to  put  on  my  back, 

Was  always  the  pride  of  my  heart* 

A  ifood  ten  miles  an  hour  in  common  my  pace 

Where  leaving  behind  me  a  trip, 
Tiiey  try  to  put  by  but  1  lead  them  a  race 

And  lip  'em  the  smack  of  my  whip. 
When  oft  as  1  am  driving  along-  iu  this  sty'e 

Tli'o  many  a  town  as  1  i;o, 
Tlie  ^nrU  of  each  Inn  will  bestow  me  a  smile 

Their  meaning  I  very  well  know. 

WVen  1  find  them  a  gig  whenever  I  call, 

Xud  full  at  my  eate  at  retun, 
I  lauf  U  and  I  jeer  and  I  tak  with  them  all 

But  Patty's  my  only  concent, 
/Vt  an     inn    aear  to   Windsor   this  little  rogue 

well  known  by  her  nice  winning  air.       (dwells 
rUal  all  other  girls  in  the  place  slie  excells, 

And  is  call'd  pretty  Patty  tl:e  fair, 
we  have  both  made  a  vow  should  weget  Ibe  stuflF 

To  marry  and  So  become  one. 

""^  As  others  have  done  for  'tis  comnjon  enough, 
wr'U  set  up  an  inn  of  our  own, 

Tuen  shb.*ll  be  called  madam  and  I'll  be  called  Sir 
<    Nvu'll  Stick  up  at  the  sign  of  the  star, 
^  'Moniist  postboys  and  waiters  TU  bustle  &  stir, 
*yUilc  Put  bellows  loud  iu  tie  bur. 


*«,<- 
^ 


ii^ 


Wk 

^ 


M  A  S  S  A     ' 
IS  A  STJNGY  .^AA^« 

On  massa  is  a«':n;ry  man. 

And  all  his  neighbours  knows  it^ 
IIo  keeps  g<jod  whiskey  in  the  house* 

An'  nebcr  says,  here  goes  it. 

<'■  II  O  R  U  S. 
*^Sing  come  day,  go  day 
God  s*-nd  Sunday, 
We'll  drink  whiskey  aU  de  week 
And  hutlermiik  o*  Sunday.' 

A  stray  dog  caino  to  town, 

*P«a  a  l)ag  of  peaches 
De  horse  ran  off,  an  he  fell  down, 

Aud  mashed  'cm  all  to  pieces. 


Hoe  cotton,  dig  corn, 

Den  we  feed  de  niggles 
An  ohl  lord  Moacs, 

W&al  a  luscious  time  for  niggas* 

Clack  Jen*s  got  a  holler  (oolh» 
An  sayi  ii*s  always  aching 

Bul'whf-n  she  puts  Ue  hoe  cake  in, 
Deu  it  stops  a  pl'igg'ug. 


Come  day,  &o. 


Come  day,  &c* 


Come  day,  &c> 


Oh!  missus  says  we  eat  too  much, 

An  wear  out  too  mucli  trowses 
She'll  make  us  feed  on  atmospiiere, 

Aud  ditias  iu  nature's  blowses. 

Come  day,  Uc, 

She  sent  consumption  Joe  one  night, 

Tobacco  U-at  to  kiver. 
It  made  hiua  sneeze  out  de  moonlight. 

And  cough  away  uis  liver. 


Come  day,  & 


Qjj  l  massa  loves  to  hug  de  gals, 
And  missLw  iloesn't  knows  it 

But  as  1  like  de  angels  too, 
1  believe  i  won't  exclose  it. 

Oh  I  missus  says  we  shouldn't  eat, 
Kase  we  <lon  t  work  a  Sunday 

But  nature  Keeps  d'isgestion's  mill, 
A  going  as  v\cil  a.-»  Monday. 

Massa  sic!i  a  stingy  man, 

I  no  n>  >r'.'  catch  tuni  possunt, 

[  roast  and  eat  him  iu  the  wood. 
And  den  I  swear  I  loss  him. 

Old  Jake  went  out  to  shoot. 
And  when  ik;  gun  it  go  olF 

It  kick  hi.-,  ear  out  o'jmi, 

Ueu  full  and  smajih  his  toe  off. 


Come  day,  & 


Come  dav. 


Come  day. 


Come  day,  &o. 


r 


DiVGHTER 

E.  HODGES,  (from    PITTS  V,  whoJesale    Toy 
,    and    Maahie  warehouse,    "^^   J^ J^**  •   Street, 
4    S:vea  Dials.  "^    .Iv   "^ 


\ 


^, 


^ 


Odo  you  remember  the  old  soldier's  danghter. 
As  fair  as  ihe  morning  iti  spring  time  was  she. 
And  mauy  a  lovrr  warmly  had  scug  >t  her,         :f 

To  all  she  was  distant  as  o:aiden  could  be. 
Dear  fath:;r,  she  cried,  with  thee  let  me  tarry. 

Though  honnly  our  cotfa<ie,  a  home  tis  to  rae. 
And  a  vow  I  have  made  thnt  I  ntver  hlII  marry, 
Then  let  me  live  happy,  d<'ar  father,  with  ihee. 

But  vain  was  the  vow  of  the  old  soldier's  daughter, 

Young  Patrick  he  woo'd  her  though  humble 
was  he. 
He  knelt  at  lier  feet,  to  his  bosom  he  caught  her. 

And  whisper'd  to  say  when  tie  bridal  shall  be. 
Dear  falh  r,  s.he  <  ried,. 'twere  a  pily  to  tarry, 

A  cow  and  a  cottage  has  P^^trick  for  me, 
Aud  sb'dearly  he  lovts  rae,  I'm  tempted  to  marry. 

And  both  will  live  happy,  dear  lather,  with  thee. 

Calm  was  the  house  oCtol  e  old  soldiers  daughter,, 

with  Patrick  beside  her,  a  babe  on  her  knee, 
The  aged,  the  blessed,  and  the  youthful  all  sought 
^  her, 

And  rone  were  so  cheerful  and  happy  as  she. 
And' tan  wa,s  the  soldier  beside  her  to  tarry,  [he, 
1  ill  ('ea\h  gently  called   him,  and  enlm'y  slept 
But  she  stiil  bles  ed  the  day  she  was  tempt*  d  to 

marry, 
•  iSaying,  Patrick,,  thou  art  now  the  worlds  love 
to  me*     -  c  •  >    .. 


nnWAS  on  a  quiirter's  day. 

My  mo.>ejr  was  nearly  spent. 
*Tis  truth  now  what  I  say, 

The  landlord  came  for  h's  rent; 
He  had  in  his  band  a  book. 

But  I  felt  lather  funny,  ...j 

Savs  he,  now  Mr.  Cook. 

Pm  comefcriny  quarter's  money. 

—  Ri  tcl^  6.C, 

I  knew  1)18  voice,  d'ye  see. 

Though  he  took  me  u>naware3> 
As  nimble  as  a  be  e,  ;< 

I  bolted  down  the  stairs; 
when  Se  into  iha  parlour  walked. 

And  in  a  chair  sat  down. 
To  my  wife  began  to  talk,  ^ 

But  she  swore  I  was  out  o*  town. 

Says  she,  I'm  very  sorry, 
.  He'll  be  back  in  a  day  or  two. 
Says  l;e,  '*  Ma'ara  book  that  story. 

For  rae  it  will  not  do."    , 
Then  he  flew  in  a  petV        %?g»i 

To  row  be  did  beginr  •?>. 

Says  he,  "  I'll  I  ave  jou  yet, 

ni  shove  the  broliers  in. 

'    "^  Ri  tol. 

Now  what  was  I  to  do,  ^i^^, 

rd  got  no  money  to  pay,    ., 
Pd  got  bnt  shillings  a  fetr, 

"*  J  ould  be  folly  here  to  stay* 
Now  wife,  I'll  tell  you  what. 

If  we're  not  offpretty  soon. 
Our  St  ck  s  w  11  go  to  pot,  ""  f 

So  to-night  we  boUs  the  moon. 

Ri  tol^i^ 

I'd  made  op  my  mind  to  go^  ^ 

1  wished  (o  get  away,  •':**» 

If  he'd  caught  me  you  know. 

He'd  a  wanted  me  to  stay  ; 
The  moon  warn't  very  brigLfy    ,^>, 

A  hoise  and  cart  1  got,  .^^&i> 

And  eve;  y  tbing  all  right,  ^^ 

We  were  off  just  like  a  shot 

Ri  tol,  &«. 

Next  day  the  broker  went^. 

O  c  iky  !  he  did  stare,. 
He  was  dish  d  out  of  liis  renty 

Neil  I  er  mi  ney  nor  goods  were  there.. 
Ibope  ray  ?ongwill  da. 

If  I  p'easeyu  Fm  content,. 
And  I  bo[.-e  not  (  ne   fycuj^ 

But  i' re  able  to  pay  jour  spvlK 


V 


■r5r 


•IT- 


The  Farmer's  ISon. 

GOOD  people  g-ive  attention  while  1  sing  in  praise 
Of  the  happv  situation  we  liv'd  in  former  days; 
Whca  my  father  kepti»  farm,  and  my  mother  milk  d 

her  cow. 
How  happy  we  liv'd  then  to  what  we  do  now, 

When  mymoiher  was  a  knitting-,  and  mv  sister  she 
would  spin,  f 

And  by   their  grood  industry  they  kept  it  neat  and  {; 
elean; 

1  rose  early  in  tha  morning,  with  my  father  went 
to  ploiiijh, 

How  hapjty  we  liv'd  then  to  what  we  do  now 

My  brother  gaVe  assistance  in  tending  to  the  sheep* 
When  tired  with  ourlabour  how  contented  we  could 

sleep  ; 
So  early  in  (he  morning-  we  again  set  off  to  plough. 
How  happy  \\n  liv'd  then  to  what  we  do  nQW. 

Then  to  market  wllh  our  fleece,  when  our  little 

herd  WHS  shorn , 
And  our  neighbours  we  sujjplied  them  with  plenf;, 

of  good  corn; 

At  half-a-crown  a  bushel  we  could  sell  it  then  I  vow  f^'p\«gi) 
ifpw  happy  we  li\  d  then  to  what  we  do  now.  a" '^ 

How  merry  would  the  farmers  then  sing  along  the  t'^:;-!^ 

When  wheat  was  sold  at  market  for  five  pounds  ^%§^ 
a-load,  ■  ^[^t|1^ 

They  went  into  an  ale-house,  and  s-ing  *'  God  speed  ^4^' 
•'  the  plough,  f?:SSi 

How  happv  w«  liv'd  then  to  what  we  do  now:         ^K^'^;;* 

I  never  knew  at  that  time,  &  search  the  country  %^^^ 

That  butter  ever  sold  for  more  than  4  pence  a  pound  vl^^:^ 
And  a  quart  of  new  milk  for  a  penny  fram  the  cow,  t^^Sj 
How  happy  we  liv'd  then  to  what  we  do  now,  x^^^ 

A  blessing  to  the  squire,  he  gave  us  great  content,  f^^'j^ 
How  well  he  enteriaind  us  when  my  father  paid  his  ^J^^ 

rent  ^/Q 

With  flaggons  of  good  ale,  he  sung  "  Farmer  speed 

"  the  plough, 
How  happy  we  liv'd  then  to  what  we  do  now. 

At  length  the  squire  died,  God  bless  his  ancient  pate  l^^^ 
Another   one,  fill'd  up  with  pride,  came  heir  to  his  ^ji^ 

estate,  ^^-^>^- 

He  took  my  father  faim  away  and  others  too,  I  vow  irg^^ 
Which  brought  us  to  the  wretched  state  that  we  are  Vi^f*^ 
May  Providence    befriend  us,  and  raise   up  honest 

hearts,  ^_ 

That  the  poor  may   be  disburthen'd'  who  long  have  (^ft^^ 

felt  the  smart,  '     ' 

And  take  away  the  larger  farms  &  divide  them  into 

That  we  might  live  as  happy  now  as  ever  we  did 


The  Brave  Orenadier. 


A  Gaurdsman  of  courage  and  beauty 

Both  handsome,  proportioned,  and  tall 
Was  pacing  the  terrace  on  duty, 
Not  far  from  the  Georgian  halL 
Eachmaiden  was  pi  eased  as  she  passiiu  aim 

So  noblv  his  form  did  appear. 
Their  smiles  and  fond  ogles  distressed   him, 

Thoush  he  was  a  brave  grenadier. 
They  looked  at  his  person  so  clever 

And  gazed  at  his  shining  b'ack  eye 
Such  beantv  and  grace  they  saw  never, 

And  reluctant  they  passed  witn  a  sipl» 
They  viewed  his  Acoutrementg  bright ei, 

Than  starlight  ot  sunlight  so  clear. 
And  his  belt  plurne  and   trowsers  scenaeJ  whller. 

Because  twas  their  pert  grenadier. 

There  a  maiden  came  heedlessly  strolling. 

Where  the  warrior  was  warching  along. 
His  eyes  thay  were  amorously  rolling, 

And  his  lips  were  just  breathing  a  song, 
She  paus'fi  as  she  tripp'd  gently  by  him. 

And  ngled  him  with  her  blue  eye. 
She  dr<!op'd  her  fair  forehead  to  try   hirn. 

Aud  told  him  she  lov  d  wifli  a  sigh. 
Faint  heartea  our  hero  was  never, 

So  he  ogled  and  sigh'd  in  return, 
He  saw  she   was  bnnny  and   clever, 

And  ii  made  him  both  flutter  and  bnru. 
Her  tresses  were  auburn  and  droopir.g, 

AH  arnuud  her  fair  forehead  of  sn.;w. 
Her  glove  she  let  droop'd  and  in  stooping 
A  neat  ancle    peep'd  from  below, 

Thev  with  love  had  eonquored  each  othei 
Their  glances  were  fatally  keen. 

She  lov'd  hipi  far  m«re  than  her  brother, 
And  he  lov'd  BYi  more  than  a  queen, 

She  wisper'd   to  morrow  '111  wande;-. 
Close  bv  your  bold  barracks  at  Eve, 

My  Sister's  are  waiting  roe  yonder, 
And  duty  compels  me  to  leave, 

He   gave  her  his  sigh  and  his  blessivi'. 
And  she  struggled  to  hide  a  warm  tear. 

Her  lily  white  hand  he  was  pressing, 
And  she   bei>d  to  her  brave  grenadier. 

Adieu  (she  exclaim'd)  till  the  morrovr- 
Adieu  my  dear  soldier  adieu, 

I  leave  you  in  love  and  in  sorrow. 
But  soon  will  return  unto  you, 

This  soldier  and  maiden  did  marr/, 
Their  lives  were  both  constant  and  true, 

And  Susan  caressed  by  her  Harry, 
No  anguish  or  misery  knew. 

When  at  Church  or  at  h<j«ne  they  where    coated 
With  smiles  they  each  other  would  cheer, 

She  was  never  too  prond  to  be  gr«eted, 
Bv  her  noble  and  brave  grenadier, 


A.    NEW 


warn 

OIRL! 


#^ome  all  arouad  both  old  and  young  and  listen  to 

my  sano;, 
^"^  hile'l  relate  a  circumstance  that  does  to  lore  belong 
lt*«  oft  pretly  factoTy  girl  I'm  going  to  sing  my  lay, 
4  uBsd  to  come  and  coart  ker  when  her  motbcx  wa« 
away. 

CHORUS 

Oh,  BeUy  Jay  you  are  lika  the  queen  of  May, 
^«w  could  you  prove  so  false  and  turn  your  owa 
true  love  away. 

mijT  love  eeftt  me  a  letter,  these  wordf  to  ue  she  did 

say, 
'1  pray  you  co«e  anil  see  Me  now  my  m»ther  is  away  i 
'■4  quickly  tiien  left  off  work,    and  straightway  I  did 

roam, 
To  moet  my  pretty  factory  {;irl,    when  her  mothci' 

waa  from  home. 

Sboa  I  found  my  lover  false — a  letter  came  to  me. 
T«  say  she  loved  aaother  yeung  Hun   and  his  bride 

she  soon  wouli  be  ; 
I  was  priev«»d  wtien  I  heard  thd  news,  forget  I  aerer 

shall. 
ifew  my  heart  is  like  «  ring  for  By  pretty  fcclory 

jirL 

.1  went  inte  the  factory  and  waited  many  a  day,    / 
When  1  »aw  my  <iwn  true  love  she  UJro'd  hex  head 

■away  ; 
flow  ahe  could  prove  so  false  to  me.   I'm  eure   I 

•annot  tell, 
She    was   my  joy   and  heart's  deligLt,    my  pretty 

factory  girl. 

They  had  not  long  been  courting  when  he  gain*d  hu 

will  of  her, 
i^a4   this  false  raaa   tarn'd  his  back  and  left  her  iu 

despair  ; 
SS^  parents  tum'd  her  «Ht  of  doors,  and  on  her  they 

new  frown, 
My  pretty  factory  girl  is  out  open  the  tewn. 

She  was  not  long  on  the  town  whea  hroken^hearted 
she  died, 
often  went  to  riew  the  grave  where  my  &Ue  lovai 
did  Lie  ; 
'i>«  sat  beneatii  the  wiUew  tre?  and  sLed  her  UBaty 

a  tear, 
A«id  tbr  lay  pteaTj&tc{j>r/  girl,  J  f>ray?i.tli»  uJXmi, 
-prsyey.     '  '  '  ' 


I  STOOD  ON  THE 

hore 


K  Uodgf »,  Printar,  Wholesale  To)  Warehouse 
*2fS,  Grafton  Street,  leho,  Lundon.— Valentinoa 
Tweltth. Might  Characteri,  &<;,  in  Great  Variety. 

T  ^tood  on  the  shore  'mid  the  weeping  and  waikuf 
•■■Of  frieads  that  were  parting,  it  might  be  for  e'ex, 
They   gave  *  loud   cheer  when  the  good  ship  waa 

sailing, 
A»d  wept  whii»  the  eehoes  were  dyi»g  away. 

Oat  bright  faee  was  laughiag  while  tears  ehas'deaok 

other, 
It  was  but  an  infant  whose  saaile  I  saw  there, 
The  babe  had  its  home  on  the  breast  of  it's  mother, 
Aad  nothing  it  knew  of  it's  mother's  despair. 

That  morn  to  the  wars  went  the  husband  and  fetb^r, 
The  tears  of  the  mother  fell  fast  on  her  ehild, 
I  wept,  fer  the  drops  on  my  owa  eyes  >»ould  pattie^, 
1  jjMke,  and  the  infant  look'd  upward  and  smiled. 

I  talked  of  old  times  and  deeds  of  proud  story, 
The  wile  thought  of  battles  that  still  were  (o  come, 
I  said,  in  my  pride,  tliey  who  fight  for  our  glory. 
Shall  never  hare  fears  for  the  lov'd  ones  at  home. 

And  spoke  I  not  truth,  where*s  the  Briton  whofaUexf 
To  bear  out  a  promise  a  nation  has  made  ? 
If  dear  to  our  hearts  are  our  homes  and  our  altta-s, 
■ihen  those  that  defend  them  shall  lose  not  our  aid* 

Humaaity  needs  it,  her  pleadings  are  holy, 
And  /astice  demands  that  each  man  pays  hit  part, 
We  may  not  nil  fight,  but  the  high  and  the  lowly, 
fciJae  BritojMj  o«a  aid  the  aaaaa  v&'Yi  at  bean. 


LII\I6S6ATE! 


A   PAU013\    ON   THE  WISHING   GATE 


E.HODGE?  Printer,  V\  hole>ale  ToyandMaihle 
Warehous-,  26,  Grafton  Street,  Solio  W  ht^re  up- 
wards of  a  10 J.OOO  Son^s  are  constantly  on  sale. 


THWAS  on  Good  Friday  eve,  the  neighbours  all 

■^  state, 

Mrs  Jenkins  went  down  to  Billinf];s<Tato 

For  that  was  the  place  so  she'd  been  told. 

Where  the  clie^p^st  of  maid  &  ealt-fih  wa»soM. 

She  was  one  of  tliosf  ladies  who  thought  it  no  sin,- 

To  spend  Iter  muktt  penny  in  gin — 

So  away  she  went  salt-fish  to  buy, 

Iv  ke  wif»  lo  get  a  few  drops  on  the  sly. 

XN  ith  her  kev  on  her  finsier  an<l  basket  so  neat^ 

Mis.  Jeiikins^w^nt  down  t  >  Biilingsgntf. 

6h"  went  there,  she  got  there,  &  then  she  'spied; 
gome  Hsh  that  was- fresh   some  pickled    souie  fried 
fiUe  look'd  at  some  i-tlsas  long  as  her  arm, 
When  a  fish-fag  hawl'd  «>ut,  '  What  are  you  look- 
ing r  r  ?  niarm  ; 
li  want  a  oic   fisli  without  even  a  fault, 
i-Aui  she.  one  ihat's  flrik'y  &  not  very  Rait ; 
V\  i  \\   here's  one,  said  the  woman,  I'll   wurrant  it 

sound;, 
Ifll  Rell  it  to  yoU;   i«arm,  for  three  half  pence  p  r 

pound; 
Bhehon<;ht  it,  and  tliought  it  very  g'^od  weight, 
And  was  pleased  with  her  bargain  at  Billinj^sgate. 

81b  dcliglited  was  «ihe.  sbe'd  gHin'd  Iter  wish, 
'J  hat  she  made  up  her  mind  to  eat  the  salt  fi?h, 
An<l  at  each  puilic-liouse  m  the  niaiket  she'd  stop 
And  couldnt  pass  by  witliout  having  a  drop  : 
^^he  liei:an  to  look  funny,  ;<nd  leel  much  the  same 
Anfl  she  (iiti  many  things  1  don't  wish  to  name,. 
And  the  buys  in  thf  strettthey  raised  a  sluut. 
To  see  her  hnd  hei  fish  botli  tumble  about. 
Siie  was  found  by  a  p'licemaf)  in  a  vey  queer  state 
S<>  sh<  slept  in  u  Siation-house  near  Billrngsgate. 

N-  xt  mrrn,  when  she  woke,  she  pxc'^'inrd,  O  dear 
For  in  searching  her  basket  no  fish  was  tiiere. 
And  what  m«'e  the  case  so  remvivkably  odd, 
'1  hat  one  of  the  bobby's  had  seen  her  sail  cod. 
She  hoped  that  the  boi.es  might  stick   iu   their 

throats^ 
And  flwore  that  she'd  goon  have  it  out  of  their  coats 
Not  seen  it,  said  she,  that's  all  my  eye, 
It's  gone  after  the  mutton  and  rabbit  pie-— 
So  ladi*  s  beware  of  Mrs.  Jenkins's  f.;te. 
Keep  serene  when  you  market  at  Billingsgate. 


I 


m 


m 


"r^-t 


THK 


LDIEB'S  BOY. 


n["'HE  snnw  was  fast  descending. 

And  loud  t'e  wind  di'    jr>ir, 
when  a  little  boy.  frieno  es?, 

Came  up  to  a  lady's  door. 
A-i  the  lady  ^.tt  at  the  window^,  ■'. 

He  rai«'d  his  eyes  with  joy, 
L  idv  g;iy,  take  pity  pray,  \-.^ 

Cried  the  poor  «Joldior'e  Coy. 

My  motlier  died  when  I  was  yoang",.    ^  ^ 

And  f  thi  r  went  to  the  wars, 
111  battle  brave  he  nobly  fell, 

aH  Cv)>erd  with  wounds  jtnd  scar^- 
But  many  mill's  on  his  knupsack, 

lie  1:513  ca  ried  me  \-  i  h  joy. 
But  now  I'm  lelt  of  p  ty  bereft,, 

A  poor  little  Soldier's  Boy.  » 

AS  Jhro'  the  streets  I'wandering  roam, 

loft  heave  many  a  sijih. 
when  children  lun  lo  their  parents  boiftej 

No  home  or  friends  have  1  ; 
And  whcii  hunger  gnaws  my  heart, 

I  ih  me  down  and  cry. 
Then  pity  take  fcr  m<  rcy  sake. 

On  a  poor  Soldier's  Boy. 

New  the  snow  is  fast  descending. 

And  night  is  coming  on,  \/.' 

Unless  sou  are  bt^frieiidin^,. 

1  fchall  perish  br fore  morn  ; 
Then  how  it  wiil  grieve  your  hcarf,. 

And  your  p«  ace  of  mind  destroy, 
To  find  ms  oead  at  your  d(X)r  in  theniorvji 

The  poor  Soldier's  Boy^. 

The  lady  rush'd  fiom  her  window. 

And  open'd  her  mansion  door, 
*  Come  in,'  she  cried,  '  misfortune's  cnilrlL 

You  ne*er  sh.iU  wander  morf. 
For  my  only  son  in  rattle  fell, 

who  WHS  my  only  joy,  ^ 

And  while  I  live  I'll  shelter  giv»»j 

To  a  poor  Soldier  Bo).tf 


f 


m 


tai^l:.:'lterS>:i^'ii!!teri*i^ 


:K.    Horig;e»i,  ii<^m  PiTis.  ^fho^e.^a^«^'fuy  uild    Mfirble 
Waiehoast',--{i,  Dudley  t:)tr»  et,  (lua;  MomrtotitU  St ) 

^-'ck-!ec:  Dick  had  a  donkey, 

An!  bis  lush  lov'd  much  lor  to  swill— 
vOne  iiuy'  he  ;iot  riilher  lumpy. 

And  got  seven  days  to  the  mill, 
rHis  donkey  ^vas  taken  to  the  Greenyard— 

A  tale  he  iievei:.deija.rv"d, 
Obi  it  was  tx  resrular  mean  yard. 

Thai,  ajas!  the  poor  moke  he  g^Dt  sfearv,d. 
f  Oh,  bad  ludk  it  can't  be  prevented— 

Tho,  Forluneniay  smile  or  tVown-- 
'He's  best  oif  that's  contented. 

To  mix,  sirs,  the  «ps  wititi  tiie  downs. 

'To  Brixton,  without  any  riot. 

They  lugg'd  Dirk- off  very  q«ick, 
He  went  in  remarkably  q»iiet, 
*Cos  he  knew  it  was  no  use  to  kick, 
:   Each  day  they  made  him  e:rappl«. 

On  the  roley-poley  stairs— 
•On  Sunday  they  sent  him  toclmpel, 

Mm  theJbutfer  wouldn't  sav  his  prayers. 

'  Oh,  bad,  &c. 
"So  time  pass'd  on,  as  Tve  stated, 
\       When  these  here  thinj^s  came  to  pass, 
'  "When  Dich  got  deliberated, 
He  went  to  look  after  hts  ass. 
"VV hen  the  death  to  him  they  nam'd  it. 

It  filled  him  with  dismay— 
'^Then  he  wetit  to  the  green  yard  and  claifo'd  it 
And  brought  the  dead  donkey  away. 

Oh,  bad,  &c. 

Dick's  feelings  were  soniuch  distress'd, 

He  borrowed  a  k^^ite  ^and  u  steel-*- 
Uke  Alderman  S—  he  did  dress  it, 

And  cut  Jms dead  body  up  lie  veal: 
To  a  Bermondsey  tanner  his  skin  went, 

And  the  olfal  away  he  throwM— 
And  the  fore  quarters,  thick  and  thin  ones, 
^       'Went  to  a  shop  were  the v^sold  aiamode 

Oh.  bad.  ^e. 


siEVENTEi). 

I^he  hair  off  the  head  he  scalded, 

I  he  han-  pretty  close  he  did  crop— 
A' lemon  in  his'mouth  he  voided, 

AuU  sent  him  to  a  pastry  cook 's^hoft 
His  U^vt  in  a  jellv  he  carted—  . 

'Cos  he  thought  it  a  mess  that  would  plea^ 
And  the  restwas  sent  to  Newgate  Market, 

To  make  rearEppmg  Sausages. 

Oh,  bad,  ^G. 

So  Dick  got  along  vvith-hiscrotiies, 

Without  any  fear  or  a  noise— 
And  made  some  into  p(>lonies, 

A  nd  some fiiito  sweet  ^ave'loyis* 
Tn  his  spirits  he  grot  no  damper,    , 

So  a  bariiain  he  got  pretty  quick— 
Foriie  bought  a  new  moke  and  hamper, 

For  seventeen  bob  and  a  kick. 

Oh,  bad,  &6 

So -Dick  toddled  ou  w,..rtne  bargain- 

1  ne  drtnkev  was  warrented  sound— 
"IVtis  lies  eve r-v  wotd  that  tney  told  hitti, 

Aud  that  Dick  pretty  soon  found. 
One  I eif  was  a  regular  swinger. 

And  he  hadn  tan  eye  in  his  head- 
So  the  live  moke  (hat  they  sold  bim. 

Was  as  quiet  as  the  one  that  was  dt-ad. 

Ob.  bad,&C. 

The  mo   couldn't  goby  coal^ing^ 

So  the  bami)ers  he  too*-  from  his  Y^tK 
Then  spit  in  his  hand  and  vho|)|)'d  tein 

For  all  the  world  like  a  sack. 
Not  one  blow  poor  Dick  inisses,  ^ 

That  the  people  cried  o«t ''  wha^e  shame» 
iiut  Dick  onlv  told  '-em  rokiss  his 

W  hat  I  don't  meati  U)  dh^wse  fo  ^aroe. 

Oh,bad,&c. 

^ome  iiid  from  one  D\?)^y  M^rt'fi, 

Had  him  up  for  }  his  cruel  cnm^ 
Afore  the  bea-'  t^ure  and  sartin. 

And  the  doii'-ey  was  .sold  for  the  nue. 
Dick's  spirits  he  cotdd  not  gwern, 
And  in  the  off.«  e  kickid  up  a  rev/— 
^1  And  once  more  he  was  sent  to  prison. 
Oh  w  liere  the  poor  d<»vil  is  now.        ^ 

Oh,  bad  te.' 


M 


Ci  REENWICH 
F  A  I  « 


^.  Hodgeitfrom  PITTS*  Toy  and  Marbl© 
Waoabouse,  31,   Monmouth  Sireet,  7   l>ial«« 


"y  03[J  maidens  all  both  great  and  «maU 

■"    I  pray  now  pay  attention, 
"My  «ong  shall  not  detain  you  long 

/For  its  my  sole  mtenlion 

The  frmt!  of  Greenwich  fuir  to  sing 

The  courtship,  fun,  and  lark  sir. 

That  first  in  ten  Is  and  shows  begin 

And  end  ia  Gieenwich  park  sir. 

FaldeTai. 

5nie  fair  begins  with  mirth  and  glee. 

With  fiddling  and  with  dancing, 
'While  hundreds  drive  along  to*ee 

The  muuntebsnks  a  prancing 
And  hundreds  more  »re  longing  soro 

'rbeir  visit  to  renew  sir, 
As  far  as  Ihe  park  into  the  dark 

To  have  a  game  or  two  si?. 

At  fal  de  ral. 

The  nigjjt  drives  on  with  mirth  and  song 

The-girU  appear  more  frisky 
The  men  push  roun'l  their  brandy  strong 

The  uiaids  are  drinking  whisky 
The  tents,  and  stalls,  and  sliovs,  and  balls. 

Impart  their  mirth  and  treasure 
And  by  and  by  tht.  girls  will  try 

To  take  the  very  measure, 

or  a  fal  de  ral. 

.:JLorbowthe  girls  hearts  do  beat 

So  overcome  with  love  sir, 
"While  some  lay  panting  in  a  sweat. 

So  «ick  they  scarcecan  move  sir 
•Says  Jai4  ll>e  ploughman  unto  MiA 

O  dear  how  you  grieve  me, 
fihe«ob'd  and  sighed  and  faintVy  cried 

There's  nothing  can  relieve  me, 

But  a  fal  de  ral. 

There's  weavers  here  and  gunnmiths  there 
..  *  Old  pensioners  and  sailors 
And  fair  maids  strolling  every  where 

With  dandies  and  wij^h  tailors 
"The  servant  girls  no  longer  maids 

f  oo  late  deplore  their  cases 
And  curse 'the  lark  in  Greenwich  park 

That  made  them  lose  their  places, 

Throug'h  the  fa!  de  ral. 


The  fair  no  sooner  enda  ihan  u(t 

Tliecoiiutry  people  step  oui, 
And  those  who  ate  net  liquor  pruuf 

Will   stay   and   Ultfrniueir   u.»p    o*lt» 
Some  sleep  in  beds  some  in  tliV  slreeU* 

And  iojue  behind  fhe  Ui  dges^^ 
And  some  who  oouM  not  lakw  a  jo>kt?. 

Are  forced  to  sleep  iti  tage.s, 

With  iheif  fal  de  riU 

But  now  my  song  i<  at  an  end 

Fair  maids  be  not  ofifixied. 
For  eight  or  nne  moutijs  nu  re  may  send, 

Yon  more  than  1  ha\e  peun'djct, 
For  if  by  cLaiue  the  parish  purse 

5>b"uid  e»er  have  to  uur>e  you. 
You  are  sure  a  sneering  qvtrseor 

Will  every  morning  cu  se  yon, 

Aad  your  fal  de  m(. 


AVAVIN'C. 


G  R  E  E  N  VV  O  O 
T  1?  E  E 


^J  OW  by  the.  waving  grtenwood  treu, 
^    V/e  merry,  merry  warriors  roaui, 
Careless  and  j<»vial  ever  hee, 

We  hail  our  native  homo, 
We  roam  beneath  fair  Cynthia's  light, 

Or  biding  in  the  shade, 
Tellmi,  Slit  tales  of  true  delight 
To  some  lovely  woodland  niaid, 

iSow  by  the  waving,  &Ce 


Now  by  tne  waving  greenwood  tree, 
.  We  merry,  merry  warriors  roam. 
Careless  and  jovial  ever  free, 

Wc  hail  our  native  home. 
We  quaff  not,  we  quaff  n«»t  the  red,  red  wine, 

But  our  nut  brow«  ale  is  good. 
For  the  song  and   the  dance   of  the  great  wc 
nt'er  pine, 

W'^liUe  the  rough  wind  our  choristers  rude. 
Mow  by  t'ae  waving,  &o. 


E.  HODGES,  (from   PITTS'^, 
j    and    M^abie   warehouse,    '" 
i    S.  ven  Dials.  *^*~ 


wholesale    Toy 

■"'*  ^    Street, 


THWAS  on  a  quarter's  dav. 

My  uioi^ey  was  nearly  spent. 
*Tis  truth  now  what  I  say, 

The  landlord  came  for  his  rentf 
He  had  in  hh  hand  a  book. 
But  I  felt  latler  funny,. 
Savs  he,  now  Mr.  Cook, 

I'm  come  fur  m^  quarter's  money. 

"^  Ri  t>.i,  6.Cr 

I  knew  Ids  voice,  d'ye  see. 

Though  he  took  ra\?  unawares, 
As  nimble  as  a  bte, 

I  bolted  down  ttie  stairs ; 
when  he  into  ihd  parlour  walked. 

And  in  a  chair  sat  down. 
To  my  wifn  began  to  talk. 

But  she  swore  I  was  out  o'  town. 

Says  she,  I'm  very  sorry, 

He'll  be  back  in  a  day  or  two. 

Says  lie,  '*  Ma'am  book  that  story. 
For  me  it  will  not  do."    , 

Then  he  flew  in  a  petr        .S«e 
To  row  be  did  begioy  %, 

Says  he,  '*  i'll  i  ave  you  yet, 

■"  '  nrshove  the  biokers  in. 

.     Ri  tol. 

Now  what  was  I  to  diy,  '■^,   ' 

I'd  got  no  money  to  payf    .. 
I'd  ^<it  but  shillings  a  few,      ;"v         *-.. 

'louid  be  folly  hereto  stay*    r 
Now  wife,  I'll  tell  you  what,       h 

If  we're  not  off  pretty  soon,    i^ 
Our  st  cfcs  w  U  go  to  pot,  "  l 

So  to-night  we  bolts  the  moon. 

Ri  tu^i, 

I'd  made  up  my  mind  to  go,  V 

1  wished  to  get  awsiy,  f-^ 

If  he'd  canght  me  you  knowv  • 

He'd  0  wanted  me  to  stay  ;      ^.   ' 
The  moon  warn't  very  bright^    ^>^ 

A  horse  and  cart  I  got*  .^^^V;'^ 

And  evey  thing  all  right,.  "^  ' 

We  were  off  just  like  a  shot 

Ri  to],  &&. 

Next  day  the  broker  went,  ,    . 

O  c  iky  !  he  did  stare,. 
He  was  dishd  out  of  his  rent, 

KeisI  er  mi  ney  nor  goods  were  there-.. 
I  hope  my  fong  will  da,  ^ 

If  I  p'euse  y  u  I'm  contejit^  h 

And  1  h<)|.e  not  (  ne   f  y('U,j, 

But  i-rfe  ab!e  to  pay  your  rcn*'.- 


A    NEW  SOx\Q  CALLED  TH'E 


TyrOW  I  am  l.ound  f.ira  fateij;n  land, 

AgHinst  n\\  inclination, 
YfS  :  —  i  niusl  leave  my   luttive  homC) 

Wliich  fills  n  e  witii  vexation  ; 
As  1  am  bound  for  Si lUiey's  coast. 

Nature  >tiil  duUi  bin<l  me, 
To  thiak  on  her  I  »!<»  aHorej 

The  gill  1  left  behind  lite. 


My  friends  thcy  sst/t  mefiir  away. 

For  fear  I'd  w-td  my  darling, 
The  bonuy  lass  I  loyt>  so  well, 

S  e  is  both  mi  d/md  charmiug  ' 
When  crossi-  g  th^  Atlantic  wares, 

I  Ihou^lit  tht?  t^r?  would  blind  me, 
And  many  a  lie  >v^  si<;h  I  g^ve, 

Forthei'irl  i  Iffl  beLindmo, 


Unio  tl)e  land  of  liberty. 

Our  ves.l  sha  was  sailing, 
Meihinks  I  ireve-^  can  be  free, 

When  paiteii  from  my  Ellen. 
Although  1  m  go;ng  far  awavj 

Nature  sti  I  doih  bind  mo. 
To  think  on  her  1  do  adore. 

The  ^irl  1  left  behiad  me. 

Oh  !  cruel  frends  you  baniph'3  me. 

And  left  her  hrokt  n-hearted, 
Sweet  Ellen  ('ear,  though  far  from  n»r, 

Our  I  hearts  shall  ne't  r  he  paTt«'d. 
Althou.h  I'm  in  Van-Dlemau's 'and, 

Constant  sull  you"!!  find  me, 
Oh,  no  : — I  never  wih  forget, 

Tut'  girl  1  left  behind  me. 

AVas  I  posess'd  of  all  the  g'ld, 

That  lits  on  the  AtWcan  shore) 
Vd  give  it  all  hut  to  heaold. 

My  own  dearnsiive  home. 
Near  liantrv  Town  at  the  sea-wide 

Once  mure  my  fiiends  will  find  me: 
It's  thtrf  ray  Ellen  does  reside, 

The  giri  I  left  b.hiud  inc. 

fJad  f  the  wealtli  of  all  that  g<iM, 

To  me  'twiiuld  be  no  pbanure, 
Th<*  bonny  !a«s  I  dt)  adore, 

I  priz»-  beyond  all  tre;isure. 
Fiewel!  vou  bonny  la  ses  all, 

From  h  r  you  shall  no'  bind  m.e 
i.'i\  g"  one  more  to  m\  csiive  bojoe^ 

^Ji<Qtlf  i^irl  2  Itft  bihiad  m&r 


I'M  GOING  Foil  A 


«it,«;-,i3i.-^ 


^    E,  HoDGE«.  IVinter,  Wholesala 
^    Toy  and  ;^^;^rblJe  warehouse,  '26, 


Gratton  Si..  Soho. 

'^^  I'M  going  for  a  soldier,  Jenny, 

^(^          Goin^  o'er  the  tolling  sea, 

S^  TheyVe  given  me  a  golden  guinea, 

^^  That  they  say  has  'listed  me, 

<^^  *Tis  no  u  e  to  fall  a  crying, 

KA^         laive  your  aense'ess  wtepii^  o'er, 

^^  JVlany  a  day  you  have  heard  me  t»igbix>^ 

Si^         Ycu  should  have  been  kind  befoce. 


'Tis  very  fine  and  pretty,  Jenny, 

Now  t>  wish  that  I  should  stay. 
But,  indeed,  Vm  thinking,  Jenny, 

iVell  not  meet  tbis  m.my  a  day. 
Wlsat  if  leart  ani  spirit  sinking  ? 

what  if  1  slioidd  come  t<»  sliaujc? 
Be  it  m  it  may,  I'm  thinking, 

You  alune  will  be  lo  blame. 

Long  an*]  dearly  have  I  lovt^d  the*. 

As  you  must  full  well  have  known. 
If  1  had  not  fauhlesa  proved  you, 

1  had  never  reck!c>s  giown. 
jBut  farc-you-well,  the  liours  are  flying, 

lime  it  is  tliat  [  was  gone, 
\\  hen  ue5»t  ancrther  heart  youVe  trylof^ 

Jeanyt  ^"^^  i^Q^  /owr  ovfo. 


^(1  i; 


■it' 


DICKY  BACON. 


MAID  OF  r,..  GREEN 


lIv)J)GFS  (late  Pitt«)  Prin'e',  wh  le- 
silc   Toy  and  Marble  [wa; chouse,   31 
i     DuUeji  street,  7  Dials 

Ti  F  beauty  doth  Io\e  to  the  bosom  coivey 
■      !  su  ely  that  ptission  mu  t  share, 
1  ^ozi  on  thy  im  ige,  rle.ir  Mary,  all  day, 

And  find  aM  that's  lovely  is  there. 
Ma'-^  by  ench  v  llvifje  swain  was  vonfessed 

The  htveliest  evfr  was  s^cn, 
Though  humble  the  dwel  ing,  cuntent  is 
thegufst,  ^. 

Of  M  ary  the  mnid  of  tbe  gr:en, 
Sweet  Maiy  ihe  maid  of  the  grem, 
1)  ar  Mary  the  maid  <.f  the  green, 
Though  hum'bk-  the  dwelling  content  is 
the  gi  est. 
Of  swett  Mijy  the  maid  of  thegreen. 

AV  hen  first  I  befield  her  >weel  il6e»    ^''^ 

1     Her  eyes  so  bfewitchii^ly  shone,     -—  - 

1  lo  ed  her  and  ardently  sigb<d  to  possess 

Her  heart  in  exchange  lor  my  o^a, 
I  found  tWQ«  a  treasure  rot  cnsilv  gained, 

From  its  dwtl  ing  bo  mild  aad  »erere, 
And  'twffs^Iotig  ere  a  promise  of  love  I  ob- 
tained, 
From  Mary  tihe  maid  of  tlie  gfeea.      -'^"^ 

■\yhot  though  she's  b^deck^  not  ^ith 
jew eU  nor  lace, 

She  ntfed<  not  su.eh  trfles  as  those, 
>f  or  e'et-i>€ed  to  add  to  the  blush  of  a  face 

Whi«li8o  many  bf'Wies  disClo«e. 
^o  blu«h  ever  bloomed  from  the  bidd  of 
1  the  ro«e. 

^     So  lovely  as  Morjr  vas  seen, 
Then  Tdj{la'  Iv  resign  all  the  wealth  of 
W^  the.  world, 

Fof  Ji#y  the  ^^^^ tle^rcen.    ^#  - 


J 


'VE  eome  to  tell  you  mH  my  n<.K'!« 
^i  cc  I  hav    been  In  IvOndon,     "    . 
And  how  Im  seivod  wher/er  1  g»,   '"'•' 
1  feci  m\ self  qui'e  undone. 
In  cvciy  place  I  hapt  lo  stop.    ^ 
My  t  n»i<l  n<-rVe8  aie  shakrn, 
Becaus'  1  k''«p  11  butttr  shop*     % 
Tliey  c  II  me  IHckv  Haccn.        -— '  . 

fast  Tin  voing  t»  dtc-^Tf 
I  shar.i't  b  ■  wnrtl)  a  ciicwioriiidj. 
Kvery  d  y  I  waste  uwav, 
Like  butter  in  the  .sunshine. 
I  bought  a  hat  for  f<;ur  and  n-ne, 
^t  Me.ssrs.  Felt  anh  Mardcn's,       ^ 
In  hopes  one  day  lo  cut  a  shine,   v 
At  the  famed  Cremorne  Gardens* 
When  a  lot  of  boys  tame  up  to  m(?> 

0  hcre^ii  a  swfil  1  r.  ckon. 

With  that  they  srnaJicd  niv  gossamer, 
And  called  me  Dicl^y  Bacon* 

The  waiter  so'  n  my  ori'er  i;ot,      ~-  - 
Said  I   make  h  is-te  I'm  thirsty. 
So  he  baw'ed  out    '  Gin  and  witter  hot. 
For   Mr.  Rue  and  Kuhty." 
Bino  and  RiiS'\  s  not  my  name, 
You  are  for  o:  ce  misJaker. 
Said  he,  1  know,  its  all  tlie  some, 
Tiiey  call  \ou  J)ieky  Bacon. 

Said  I,  you  know  you'r.-i  tcllinir  Hfs^ 
Mv  right  name's  William  Walker, 
vsi  b  that  he  blacken'  d  both  my  e}C5,- 
And  swore  it  was  a  c  rkcr. 

1  crit  d  tut   *  Murder,'^  p  lice,  he.e, 
ril  have  tiiosc  bL.ckguards  tiiken, 
Said  they,  wo  w  !]     ,  t  inttif  re, 
For  such  as  Dxky  Bijccin. 

The  mob  had  scarc^dv  cb  and  away, 

when  on  that  v<  rv  instant,  -___ 

A  lady  dressed  iu  fine  airay.    ,^ 

Piesentcd  me  an  i.ifant.        >- 

I  tried  to  run  away,  ega-l, 

But  soon  she  hud  rn'^  taki^n,  "     * 

And  before  his  Lo  dship  swore  his  dad, 

was  Mr.  Dicky  Bacin. 

Sa}8  I,  your  Lor('s'iip  V\\  a^rcoi        * 

I  wtnt  with  her  to  Green" ic'',      ■J'" 

But  the  chi!d's  no  more  lik*"  me, 

Than  pickled  pork's  li^e  spinage. 

That  putchcd-uj>  sto-y  will  not  da> 

The  child  is  yours  I  r<  ck(  n, 

For  see  im  gft  a  i?o<yG  like  yon, 

And  its  marltt'd  with  eggs  and  bacon. 

The  cash  I  pud  for  this  joun>j  cub, 
Ir  gave  me  such  a  jtrkin^r.  -* 

Once  the  siz*;  of  a  |>ork  tub, 
Now  like  a  bu'ter  firkin. 
Eo  if  my  FiKJg  shou'd  p  ea.sc  your  eari^  ' 
Your  gotnl  iippliuse  I  reckua,  'i 

will  wa^h  aw^iy  the  biiu/  te«r",       ^    't*^ 
Aud  brt^ili  of  D  cky  B«c  n.  _ 


STEER  MY  BARK  TO 


X'S  ISLE 


E.  Hodges  Printer,   (from  PITrS,) 

Wholfsale    T- y     aiid    Mari)le    NN'arehouae, 

No.  31,  Dudley  Street,  Seven  Dials. 


^h,  I  have  roam'tl  o'er  many  lands* 

And  many  friends  I' vfe  met. 
Nor  one  fair  scene  or  kindly  .smile. 

Can  this  fond  heart  forget ; 
Bnt  I'll  cor>fess  that  I'm  content| 

No  more  Id  wig  i  to  roam  : 
O  s^eer  my  biurk  to  Erin's  Isle, 

For  Erin  is  my  home. 

\i  England  was  my  place  of  birtb, 

I'd  love  her  tranquil  Bhorc, 
It  balmy  Scotland  wag  my  home* 

Her  mountains  Id  adore; 
But  pleasant  davs  in  both  I've  past, 

V'i  «lream  ol  tla\  s  to  c<»me ; 
0*stecr  my  hark  to  Enn's  Isle,         , 

For  Erin  is  my  home. 


WAKE  OF  TEDDY  ROE. 

"I  N  Dub' in  citv  of  riches  and  fame, 

A  fishtno!)ger  li  v  dTed<lv  Roe  was  his  name 
The  n  ighbours  all  grieved,  r  ch,  poor  high  or  low, 
And  to  wake  ^h  poor  Teddv  they  resolved  to  go. 

^^poken.)-^A>r.  O'Dogherty,  the  coachman  was 
«etJt  lor  immoAiately.  Now  you  see  Doghtrty  we 
want  you  to  anve  us  clean  and  decently  t  <  'I'eddy 
Roes  wake.  Ry  the  pow'rs  he  has  taken  it  into  his 
i»ead  to  die,  so  he  would  not  be  very  well  pleased 
if  we  neglected  calling  on  hiui,  so  drive  away  with 
the  be  utiful 

Mibtress  Delaney,  Mistres.s  Rlaney, 

Mister  Fagan  and  Miss  Due, 
Who  in  a  coaib  all  went  to  ttie  wai*€  of  Teddy  Roe^ 

All  bedizen'd  so  fine  in  their  l)est  unday  clothes, 
Mi.ss  Doe  s  squint-eye.  &  .VJisttr  Fagan  s  wd  nosa 
At  p<x)r  Ted's  they  arrived,  where  they'd  oft  been 

1 1    before, 

And  Dogherty  he  gave  a  loud  thump  at  the  door. 

(Spoken) — On    hobbles  Pheliu>  Teddy  s  uncle. 

Arrah,  it  is  yourself  thatc  mes  to  wake  with  poor 

,Tcd,  he's  up  in  the  cock  loft  taking  a  carting  glass 

<jf  Inisbone  with  a  few  friends,  so  be  after  walking 


M  ROE 


up  the  ladder  if  you  please,  .scrape  yo'.ir  feei  "fudf 
Judy,  the  quality  is  come,  stick  ledd  with  hir 
back  against  the  wall,  put  his  best  <vig  on.  and  a 
pipe  in  his  mouth.  Walk  up,  ladies,  tea  will  v>oti 
be  rea  iy.  What  have  \ou  got  for  tea  ?  HerringJi 
and  praties.  D'ye  think  you  spalpeen  thai  will 
satisfy  » 

Miss  Delane  ,  Mistress  Blaney,  ^c. 
Now  the  whiskey  went  round  till  the^  could  not  *- 

gree. 
Who  were  highest  of  rank  and  of  the  best  pedigree 
And  from  words   fell  to  blows,  just  like   JJonny- 

brook  fair. 
And  amongst  them  poor  Teddv  came  in  for  his  share 
(Spoken.)     Hubbaboo  hubbaboo,  what  the  de- 
vil are  you  about  .'*  What  are  you  doing  ?  By  the 
powers  of  Moll  Kelly  if  they  haven't  got  poor  ;  ed 
down  amongst  them,     Och  !  they'll    smother    th? 
poor  creature      Get  of   him.     Judy   take  hold  of 
his  leg.  and  help  me  to  drag  him  from  under  the 
lump-—  )ch,  blood  and  o'uns,  see  that  now  f  they 
have  given  the  corps  a  black  ey»',  sure  and  I  eJ*« 
pected  better  behaviour  from 
Miss  Delaney,  Mistress  Blaney,  Mister  Fagan,  and 

Miss  Doe, 
Who  in  a  row  all  joined  to  wake  with,  poor  Teddy 

Roe. 
Returning  a  coach  full  of  whisky  and  greif, 
Diiven  by  old  Dogherty  of  coachmen  thecheif 
But  objects  turned  round  and  he  could  not  tell  how  ^ 
For  he  upset  the  qua  ity  all  in  a  slough. 

(Spo  en,)  '  hat  Katty,  where  have  you  got 
t<io  O  Dogherty,  how  couhl  you  do  so  ?  ^evcr 
mind  Katty,  Til  get  off  my  box  and  help  you  out 
(hiccup,)  Katty  let  me  see  how  many  t.ere  is  of 
you.  (Hiccup)  One.  (Hiccup.)  Two,  (Hiccup.) 
I  hree.  You  nasty  beast,  don  t  le  counting «>f  us 
in  that  manner,  but  make  hasr.  a;  d  help  us  out  of 
the  mud,  and  be  sure  aud  take  care  of 
Miss  Delane.,  Mistress  i  laney,  Mi.ster  Fiigan  and 

Miss  Doe. 
Who  for  a  row  all  joined  to  wake  with  poor  Teddy 

Roe, 
Then  bemudded  without.  &  wi  h  w.  iskey  wthin 
They  arrived  al<.ld  Dogh  rty^s  &  all  stagger  d  ia. 
Such  figures  off  n,  'iwill  be  told  for  their  sake. 
Sure  neve,  before  were  see.»  ul  «  wake 

(Spoken.)  I'less  us  Dogherty,  what  blacfe 
drunKen  d  vil  are  you  bringing  home  .=>  wh  redid 
you  pick  'em  up  ?  Oh,  don't  bo. her  me,  and  you 
will  get  the  whole  account  as  clear  as  mud.  but 
Judy  we  must  first  wash  and  put  to  bed  the  most 
beautiful 

Miss  Delaney,  Mistress  Blaney,  Mister  Fa5a»  and 

Mi.ss  Doe» 
They  all  got  dead  drunk  at  the  wake  of  Tedtly  Roo^ 


v^^ 


wmiB  irmw^ 


HODGES.  Printer,  f«,^  I.  PlTTVVMesak  T#^/ 
VV  Areiiou.e,  ol,  BiKiiey-.trewt,  S^ye«-di«it,,  -       ^ 

AS' I  was  wniking  np  Rttcl  if  Highway 
Tfee  recru  tiif.;  p;x  ty  came  b?atifvj:  t'lat  wu,  . 
They  enlisted  me  and  treated  me,  till  I  did  not  know.. . 
Then  to  the  Queen's  barracks  they  foro'd  ni£  to  g(). 

When  first  T  deserted  I  tlxnight  niyselTfrce,  ■ 

Uutil  my  cruel  comrade  iufortu'd  upon  m*?, 

I  was  qui  kly  loll  jwed  afte-  and  L):ou^ht  hack  with  I 

spe  -d, 
I  ^vashandciiffed  aad  guarded,  heavy  irons  on  me-i^- 

Oeurt  martial,  court  martial^  tlwy  held  upon  me. 
And  the  sev^leace  pA»«>'d  upon  me  three  huiulred  and 

three; 
Viu.f  the  Lord  have  meicy  on  them  for  their  cruelty,  . 
■    YoK  now  the. Queen's  duty  lays  heavy  on  me. 

AVI.en  next  i  deserted  I  thought  myself  free, 
i   XJiii'l  my  cruel  swectlieart  iiiformeci  upon  me ;  ^ 

!    I  wi:^>quickly  followed  after,  and   brought  back  with  • 
S|)eed, 

I  was  handcuffed  and  guarded,  heavy  irons  on-me. 

Crt>uruoiartial,  court  martial,  court  martial  they  got,  . 
Tfit;,^.entence  passed  on  me  was  to  be  shot: 
'1  he  Lord  have  mercy  on  me  for  their  sad  crtieltj,-. 
For  now  the  Queen's  duty  lay*  heavy  on  me. 

Then  up  rose  Prince  All^ert  in  his  carriage  and  six,  . 
Fetch  to  me  that  Yt>ung  nMinwhoae  coffin  is  fix'd. 
Set  him  free  from  his  iroas  and  let  him  go  free, 
Ht  wiU  Kuai^e  a  good  soldier  fi»r  iiis  queen  and  (Muntxjr^,.^ 


I 


DEATH     OF    GENERAL 

WOLFE. 


Printed  by  E.  Hodi-es^Xfrom  Pitt's),  whole- 
sale TO)  and    M.nhle  w;irel:ou3i',  31,  Dud- 
ley Sheet,  Seven  Dials. 

BOLD  General  Wolfe  uoto  his  men  did  say 
Come,  come  my  lals  i.nd  follow  we, 
io  yondtT  mountains  that  .ire  so  ingli, 
All  for  the  honour  all  lor  the  honour  of  your 

kinj;  fcnd  country. 
The  French  thev  aie  on  the  mountains  high, 
while  we  poor  Inds  in  the  vallies  h'e, 
1  see  tlKiii  fulling  like  inotlisin  the  sun, 
Thro'  smoke  tmii  fiie     thro'  sm<'ke  and  fire 

nil  from  our  hiitish  guns. 
The  veiy  first  volley  she  gave  to  us, 
wounded  our'Geneial  in  the  left  breast, 
Y«  nder  he  sit<,  fur  he  catmo!  cianniand, 
Fight  on  so  boldly,    fi^ht  on  so  huldly,    for 

whilst  Ive  lil'e  I'll  have  conunaud. 

Here  is  my  treasure  lies  all  in  gold, 
I'ake.it  und  part  it  f»»r  my  bhiod  rnns  cold. 
Take  it,  ^  pari  it,  Gentral  VVolte  did  suy  — 
You  lads  of  honour,  \(ju  l.ds  cf  honour  who 

mrtesuch  g  dlant  p'%y. 
when  to  Old  En>;iand,)oa  do  return, 
Piay  tellmy  parents  \  am  (  ead  und  gone. 
Arid  tell  my  tender  old  mother  de.r, 
Kot  to  wtep  for  me,  not  to  weep  lor  me  it  is 

a  dtath  I  wisl)  to  share. 
At  sixteen  years  whfn  I  (iist  hegun, 
All  for  the  h'juuur  of  (iieoige  our  King"^^ 
So  let  all  contmaiide<8  du  &»  i  hu^e  dojie  \ie- 

fore, 
Be  a  soldiers  friend,  he  H  soldiers  friend,  *iiv 

bo;s,  aud  the/il  Ji^lt  for  evcrmort  ' 


5^^^ 


MY     BOYHOODS     HOME. 


I-.  HODGES    Piinter,  Whole  aleToy  j»  Marble 
AVarehousf,  26,  Grafmii  *^tieet.  Soho. 
VVhere  upwardaof  a  10  ',000  Songs  are  constantly 
on  sale. 


fVO  London  I  came  from  the  sweet  County  Down 

I  calTd  on  a  fii-  nd  to  show  nm  the  Town, 
He  show'd  me  th  ougli  streets.  i..nc's  and  alleys  so 

grand, 
*Till  my  bones  were  so  sore  I  fecarc<-l}  could  stand 
Hesliow'd  me  fine  houses  that  were  buil'  up  Suhi(;h 
And  a  man  mad^  of  stone  reac'iinjj  up  to  the  sk\  : 
But  the  name  of  ihose  places  went  out  of  my  brain 
But  one,  and  they  oil  it  sweet  Petticoat- Lane. 

Convenient  to  Petticoat. Lane  there*?  a  place, 

A  {1  as  we  pas  'd  ihro'  it  we  could  g>M  m*  peace, 

The  siiops  weic  alt  full  ol  fi.ie  clothe^,  black  and 

blue, 
And  the  fellows  oit.side  r-early  to  e  nie  in  two. 
()iie  pull'd  me  this  w.iv  to  biiv  a  g<<oH  fri^  ze, 
Ai  oih^r  liad  a  corduroy  k>reeche.s  my  size. 
On-'  chap  bawlM  out  wh^n  I  wouldn't  remain, 
Slow  hiui  up  to  the  ch  nge  in  Pttiicoat-L  ne. 


}>1\  fiitnd  tliought  to  drag  me  away  by  tbe  sleeve 
V^  i,ei>  a  tartar  droppM  over  his  hand  an  old  sieve 
]  turn'd  to  s'rike  her  but  got  in  my  eye, 


]  wolloppM  away  and  was  walUjpp'd  too 
Til!  all  sor.B  of  things  were  taised  b^  the  c  ew, 
f'uu  <i  sweur  il  vnx^  raining  biick-bats  and  stones. 
Till  I  hea  d  my  r.ntag mitit  givi  g  g  eat  grones. 
)h  run  and  be  d- —  to  yuu,  somr-  oi'tht  m  cried, 
are  I  c  n't,  fr  the  ijiuitou  is  stuck  in  my  eye, 
was  led  through  the  crouJ — I   heard  s^meb  dy 

say, 
here's  a  peeler  'most  kiUM  down  in  PetticoalLan^ 

1  his  noise  iike  a  tiiur.derbolt  fell  on  my  ear, 

ind  I  scr  ped  all  th    (ai  f  om  my  e;.  e  pr.  tty  clear 

iy  frieml  told  the  crowd  that  was  aiuuud   to  be 

jn-ite, 
/hi\e  we  stept  into  a  house,  'twas  the  sign  of  the 

'  8'  ot,' 


And  two  or  three  that  h(  Ipd  us  came  in  for  a  twiat 
When  the  reckoning  was  call'd  my  pock.ts  wcie 

clcan'd 
For  the  few  shillings  were  pic'i-d  out  in  Patlcaat- 

Lane. 

The  reckoning  it  came  to  a  bob  and  a  g  oat. 
For  which  the  landlord  took  the  lend  of  my  caat, 
I  started  a  thought— twas  just  curs  ing  the  town 
When  a  policeman's  pot  slick  made  free  with  mj 

crown 
Said  he,  yoii  have  kiibd  one  hundred  and  six. 
Arrah,  be  aisey.  avick,  I  want  none  of  your  trick*. 
But  the  sergeant  an  J  twenty  moie  swore   h  was 

plain. 
That  1  was  the  bully  of  Peilicoat-lane. 

They  all  gathered  round  me  like  bees  round  a  cask 

And  lo  take  me  to  prison  was  no  eas\  task, 

\   hen    I    reach'd   there  I   w-s  cliarged  with  the 

crime. 
But  twas  m>  own  brother  Barney  I'd  beat  all  the 

time, 
W^hen  he  see  me  he  let  out  a  thunderi^^curs?, 
On  the  first  day  he  went  to  join  in  the  force, 
H-  released  my  old  coat  and  got  roe  out  cleaa, 
l  o  go  home  and  say  prayers  for  the  b.'acLguard* 

in  Petticoai'Lane. 


MY  BOYHOODS 


My  boyhood's  home,  I  see  tby  hilli 
i  see  thy  valley's  cbangful  gr<  en 
And  man  .ood's  eye  a  teir-drop  fdls 
Tliougli  years  have  roU'd  since  thee  I've  seen 
I  come  to  thee  from  war  s  dread  place 
A  warrior  stern  o'er  thee  no  rule 
But  while  I  gaze  on  each  loved  plain 
I  feel  i  am  a  boy  agaia 

To  the  war  steed  adieu,  to  the  (rumprt  fii  ew«il 
To  the  pomp  of  the  p  duce,  the  proad  gilded 

donie 
For  t  „e  green  .s«ei3£s  of  childhuod   I  bd  ye  f  ra 

well 
The  soldier  i^wns  to  his  bo.hi»od   luvcd  homs. 
My  boyh.'ud  s  hiiiSj  Itc 


Inhni  $tiU  i$  lulm 


^fi?i^ 


THE  MASHER, 

I  used  to  be  steady  I  naed  to  be  staid 
My  toys  were  all  bougllt  at  the  Low- 

ther  Arcade,         > 
I  sat  at  ihf  feet  of  my  dearest  mama 
Or  recite  pweet  poems  to  tondestpapa 
Or  go  v-tli  my  sister  for  walks  in  the 

park. 
And  was  sure  to  return  quite  an  hour 

before  dark, 
But  now    things   have   changed  and 

t.is  f;asy  to  tell, 
I'nl  thr  latest  invention,  the  Masher, 

the  swell 

;'ra  a  strutt  up  the  Strand-ity,  «jaue  in 
my  Kand-ity, 

Drop  ill  the  grand-itv  swellal  ^ 
Quifct    in  my  speech-ity,  very  knee 
hrcrf-ch-ity, 

St:-.n!Ui  r  iind  stutter  and  dwall, 
Puff  a  (.i,i:;.i  ity.  with  the  majar-ity, 

Bye-'  ye  ta-ta-itv  feiiah; 
Dash-ir  v  crasli-itv.SDiash-ity,  bash-ity 

Mash-iest  Masher  of  all. 

1  usee]  to  be  bashful,  I  used  to  be  shy 
If  a  lady  looked    at   me   I  cast  down 

my  eye. 
But  if  she    should    tickle  me   under 

the  chin, 
In  my  innocent  heart  I  thought  'twas 

a  sin, 
If  I  went  to  a  soiree,  rout  or  a  ball, 
I  was  sure  to  be  found  close  to  the  wall 
"Whilst  others    were  dancing  and  en- 
joying the  fun, 
I  was  wopping    myself    round  a  tart 
or  a  bun. 

I'm  a  Rotten-row  ride-ity,  hat  on  one 
side-ity, 

Glass  in  my  eye-dity  swell-ah. 
Trouble  to  talk-ity,  ditto  to  walk-ity, 

Swag-ity  cieepity  crawl  ; 


Pet  of  society,  little  variety, 

Hi,  tral-Ia-la-liety  fellah, 
A  rani-ity,  lam-ity,  Janx-ity,  dam-ily, 

Jam-ient  masher  of  all. 

I  used  to  be  me  mealy,  I  used  to  be 
mild, 

To  my  books  and  my  studies  was 
reconciled  ; 

f  \ised  to  believe  that  all  heroes  were 
brave, 

And  theu-  duties  were  ill-treated  dam- 
feel?  tr  save  ; 

I  usca  to  believe  free  trade  was  a  boon 

Ana  the  talk  of  good  times  would  ap- 
pear very  soon, 

No  Avondor  folks  laughed  at  my  inno- 
cence then, 

But  these  notions  all  flew  when  I 
mis-sd  up  with  men. 

I'm  a  leary  and  lanlc-ity  cierk  m  lihe 

bankity, 
Station  and  rank-ity  awell-ah. 
Smoke  cigarettc-ity,  get  into  debt-ity 

Rol.i  Peter  and  settle  Avith  Paul  ; 
See  a  divinity,  Chelsea  ricinity. 

Money  fOr  pin-ity  fellah, 
A  lump-ity,  jump-ity,  fgive  you  the 
hump-ity, 
Number  one  Masher  of  all. 

I  used  to  be  truthful,  I  used  to  be 
young, 

And  in  company  never  found  the  use 
of  my  tongup, 

I  always  had  plenty  of  blushes  on  hand 

And  a  faint  now  and  then  I  could  al- 
ways command  ; 

I  was  the  most  innocent  mortaktflive, 

Always  thought  five  beans  should  be 
countt^d  as  five  ; 

Always  thoughtf^the  sun  brought  dm 
flowers  in  May, 

And  the  Haytnarket  residents  only 
6old  bay. 


Fm  a  darling  old  chap-ity,  piay  yoa 
at  nap-ith,  •• 

SKp-ity  slap-ity  swell-ah,  0 
Hip  hip  hurrahity   inside  the  Gaiety, 

Beg  pardon  sir  this  is  my  stall. 
Gaiters  of  drab  ity,  gift  of  the  gab-ity 

Row  with  cab-ity  fellah, 
Rick-ity,  rack -ity.  brick -ity,  biack-ity 

Prize  medal  masher  of  ali. 

Ireland  still  is  Ireland. 

Let  every  honest  patriot, 

Give  heed  to  me  awhile, 
Afid  I  will  sing  as  in  the  past, 

Of  dear  old  Erin's  Isle, 
Her  sons  were  never  cowards  vet, 

Our  courage  will  not  flag, 
For  we  are  ready,  in  your  cause, 

To  fight  beneath  your  fiag, 

Ireland  still  is  Ireland, 

As  brave  as  in  the  past. 
Willing  in  a  righteous  cause. 

To  act  a  brother's  part, 
Her  sons  aj'e  alway.^;  ready, 

With  hands  both  true  an  I  steady 
To  prove  that  'neath  an  Irish  coat. 

There  beats  a  noble  h^.art, 

When  England'^  been  at  v:iri;ince, 

With  valiant  foreign  ices. 
Who  was  it  gained  the  victory, 

But  the  Shamrock  and  the  Rose  ? 
"When  bullets  rained  arouud  us. 

Wo  true  and  nobly  stood, 
And  showed  the  world  that  Ave  could 
fight, 

ks  heroes  only  could. 

Thein  let  us  stand  as  brothers  still, 

For  count^'y,  home  and  Queen, 
We  never  have  been  beaten  yet. 

When  fighting  Avith  a  will. 
Still  hand  in  hand  we'll  journey  wi. 

Unheeding  slander's  voice, 
And  when  we  are  united,  we 

Must  one  and  ali  rejtoice. 


THE 


CRINOLINE. 


Sec.  25. 


Good  people  give  allenlion  and  listen  to  tny  rhymes,    " 
I'll  sing  about  the  fashions  that's  in  vogue  the  prestiit  time, 
The  ladies  once  wore  bustles,  now  they  think  they  can't  be  fine, 
Without  a  bat  and  feather  and  a  fancy  crinoline. 


Just  twig  the  preily  ladies,  now  don't  they  cut  a  shine, 
With  a  dandy  hat  and  feather  and  a  fancy  crinoline. 


As  I  was  walkiiis?  through  the  street  not  many  days  ago, 
I  met  a  gal  who  said  she  was  looking  for  a  beau  ; 
She  invited  me  to  go  with  her,  I  said  I  did  not  mind. 
For  she  look'd  just  like  au  au^el  Ure&scd  in  her  crinoline. 


She  took  me  to  a  splendid  house  with  cushions  on  the  chairs. 
She  treated  me  with  brandy,  then  she  took  me  up  the  stairs, 
Slie  nndressd  me  very  kindly  and  said  she  would  be  mine, 
But  1  cursed  the  night  that  ever  I  admired  her  crinoline. 


I  had  a  8plen<lid  watch  and  chain,  I'd  gold  and  silver  too. 
But  in  the  morning  when  I  woke  I  scarce  knew  what  to  do. 
For  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  after  treating  her  so  kind, 
She  stole  my  money,  watch,  and  clothes,  and  left  me  her  crinoline 

There's  a  pretty  bobbin-winder,  her  name  is  Mary  Can* 

She's  courting  a  snob,  so  help  my  bob,  that  lives  in  • Lane, 

Last  Sunday  afternoon,  she  thought  to  cut  a  shine 

With  the  huoDs  off  her  moiher's  washing  tub  she  made  a  crinoline. 


I  know  a  steam  loom  weaver,  so  cunning  and  so  sly. 
She's  got  a  hump  on  her  back,  and  squints  with  her  eye, 

And  works  at Factory,  her  name  is  Ann  O'Brien, 

Her  smock's  as  black  as  a  chimney  back,  and  she  wears  a  crinoline. 


There's  a  woman  lives  on 


Road,  thev  call  her  Martha  Brown, 


She  wanted  to  buy  a  crinoline,  to  wear  underneath  her  tjown, 
But  ner  husband  wusld  not  let  her,  and  when  she  was  inclin'd 
She'd  a  little  son  mark'd  on  his  b— m,  with  a  lady's  crinoline. 


b 


THE 


STRAND- 
RUSHING 

MASHER. 


Sec.  35.  

I've  found  out  a  secret,  to  live  without  work, 

Which  has  j)roved  a  gocd  fortune  to  me, 
Viii  now  "oil  the  nod,'    and  I  tind  that  it  pay«, 

I  or  1  tap  e\X'ry  one  that  I  see. 
An  I  stroird  through  the  city  to  look  for  a  friend. 

To-day  I  met  with  such  a  dasher, 
[  asked  him  to  lend  nie  a  fiver,  you  see, 

For  I'm  known  aa  the  Strand-rushing  Mashart 

CHORUS. 

I'm  known  as  the  Strand -rushing  Mashar, 
111  fact  I'm  a  regular  dasher, 
I'm  envied  by  swells,  for  I  win  all  the  girls, 
A.nd  I'm  known  as  the  Strand- rushing  Masher! 

Some  think  I'm  a  Captain,  you  know,  on  half  pay, 

While  others  take  me  for  an  Earl ; 
I'm  neither  of  those,  the  truth  I'll  confess. 

Though  a  thorough  good  fnend  to  a  girl. 
If  she's  got  any  money  I  then  play  my  game, 

And  it's  ten  pound  to  one  that  I  win  it. 
For  I've  got  such  a  way  that  they  cannot  refuse, 

And  like  Crackpots  are  bound  to  part  with  it. 

One  day,  now,  I  chanced  to  pop  into  the  Cri', 

I  was  soon  introduced  to  a  girl, 
Who  asked  me  to  join  in  a  bottle  of  fizz, 

Which  sent  my  poor  head  in  a  whirl ; 
Then  she  asked  me  to  see  her  safe  home  to  her  door, 

I  said,   "  Yea,  with  the  greatest  of  pleasure," 
But  before  she  departed  I  borrowed  a  quid, 

And  awoTn  she  was  my  only  treasure. 


BANDY 


Sec.  28. 


Of  all  the  queer  fashions  you  ever  did  see, 

You  of  something  shall  hear  if  you  listen  to  me  ; 

Its  of  the  proud  lasses  who  ramble  along, 

With  a  bundle  of  hair  which  they  call  a  Chignon. 

Just  twig  the  young  lasses  as  they  walk  along, 
With  an  oyster-shell  Bonnet,  and  dandy  Chignon. 

Of  8uch  comical  dresses  and  comical  ways. 
They'd  no  such  idea  in  my  Grandmother's  days, 
They  were  homely  and  comely,  went  cleanly  along. 
With  bonnets  to  hide  their  sweet  faces  from  the  sun. 

Billy  Snip  went  to  walk  with  his  sister-in-law, 
At  the  back  of  her  head  she'd  a  great  bunch  of  straw, 
She  trimmed  it  up  neatly  but  it  came  undone, 
And  a  young  fellow  cried,  Miss,  you've  dropped  your 
Chignon. 

My  wife  wears  a  Chignon,  says  Liverpool  Jack, 
I'll  swear  its  as  big  as  a  soldier's  knapsack. 
She  gave  birth  to  a  daughter  last  Sunday  but  one, 
That  was  mark'd  on  the  head  with  a  ladies'  Chignon. 

I  know  a  young  damsel  named  Mary  M'Call, 
T'other  night  was  invited  to  go  to  a  ball, 
So  in  order  to  make  her  look  handsome  and  fine, 
She'd  a  Chignon  before,  and  another  behind. 

There's  an  old  cobbler's  daughter  lives  over  the  way, 
Said  she'd  have  a  Chignon  to  make  her  look  gay, 
She  tormented  her  father  and  did  him  so  vex, 
He  made  her  a  Chignon  with  bristles  and  wax. 

On  Saturday  morning  young  carroty  Peg, 
Pell  into  the  gutter  and  fratured  her  leg. 
She  dirtied  her  dress  and  some  cow  dung  got  on, 
Her  oyster-shell  bonnet  and  dandy  Chignon. 

Old  Mrs.  Goasy,  its  true  'pon  my  life, 

The  bridge  of  her  nose  is  as  sharp  as  a  knife  ; 

She  has  two  bandy  legs  and  she's  turned  eighty  one, 

She  went  to  a  barber's  and  bought  a  Chignon. 

Mrs.  Flash  in  a  dream  t'other  night  left  her  bed, 
And  in  a  mistake  put  the  po  on  her  head ; 
O  what  are  you  at,  says  her  poor  husband  Paul, 
"J^hy,  says  she,  I  am  trying  my  new  waterfall. 

A  clean  night  dress  and  chemise  she  had  to  put  on, 
And  all  thxeugh  her  dreaming  about  her  Chignon, 


THE  BLOones. 


\?0u  lads  and  you  lasses  attend,  1  will  sing  you  a  comical  dity, 
The  bloomer's  from  Yankey  is  come,  don't  you  think  it  looks  wonderful  pretty, 
They  tell  us  some  laughable  tales,  that  the  women  must  all  wear  the  breeches, 
"While  their  husbands  they  must  stay  at  home,  and  wash  up  the  pots  and  dishes. 

Frill  shirt.  Cravat  and  Trousers,  you  see  on  the  women  they  cut  it  quite  fat. 
Instead  of  fine  bonnets  and  and  boas,  they  have  on  a  cock  and  pinched  hat, 
Their  furbelows,  flounces  and  shawls,  the  Bloomers  will  all  lay  aside. 
In  boots  that  will  reach  to  their  knees,  straddle  legs  on  a  donkey  they'll  ride. 

It  will  be  a  most  comical  thing  in  England  to  see  such  a  change. 
The  women  dressed  up  in  men's  clothes,  won't  it  look  wonderful  strange 
Through  the  hedges  and  ditches  they'll  go,  secure  from  all  storm  and  wind. 
With  buttons  and  braces  so  tight,  and  flaps  to  their  trowsers  behind. 

When  that  the  bloomers  get  fat  you  must  know  &  begins  to  grow  thick  round  the 
We  will  be  prepared  for  the  change  no  stays  they  will  have  for  to  lace,        [waist. 
Elastic  trowsers  they'll  wear  just  made  in  the  fashion  and  style. 
For  to  fit  round  the  belly  and  waist  that  will  reach  seven  roods  and  a  mile. 

Sally  Morgan  last  night  she  did  say  to  her  husband,  she  must  wear  the  breeches. 
The  bloomers  have  sent  her  near  mad,  that  she  will  jump  o'er  the  hedges  &  ditches. 
Although  she  is  blind  of  an  eye  and  her  legs  they  are  just  like  a  bow, 
She  says,  it's  full  time  for  to  change  with  the  bloumers,  she  means  for  to  go 

For  horse  soldiers  the  ladies  will  go,  the  ladies  will  love  for  to  ride, 

TheyTl  fight  the  proud  French  or  the  Dutch,  they  can  fire  back  belly  or  side. 

No  longer  they'll  gossip  at  home  with  petticoats  bustles  aud  pumps,  , 

To  the  fife  and  the  drum  they  will  march  to  the  tune  they  call  cock  on  my  ramp. 

The  tailors  will  have  a  fine  trade  to  fit  out  the  bloomers,  o  dear, 

To  measure  their  delicate  waist,  I  am  sure,  it  will  make  them  feel  queer. 

With  their  sleeve  board  &  bodkin  so  bought  &  goose  for  to  press  down  the  stitches, 

The  tailors  will  say  with  a  smile  1  would  like  for  to  button  your  breeches. 

For  bricklayer  and  hodmen  they'll  go,  and  run  up  the  ladders  like  fun. 
Such  attorneys  and  barristers  at  law,  was  near  since  the  world  first  began. 
They  will  lay  down  the  law  so  complete,  in  court  their  part  they  will  plaj', 
'Their  tongues  will  go  faster,  I'm  sure,  than  ecginges  that's  on  the  Railway. 

You  husbands  prepare  for  this  change,  you  must  all  slay  at  home  in  the  hoDse, 
The  child  in  the  cradle  must  rock  and  keep  it  as  still  as  a  mouse, 
Thehippings  you  must  wash  andilry,  and  clean  up  the  pots  and  the  dishes, 
The  bloomers  say  one  and  all  no  longer  you  shall  wear  the  breeches. 


A  Me>v  8ong 


ON 


THE   BLOOMER  C08TUME. 


Oh,  did  you  hear  the  news  of  late, 

According  to  the  rumours, 
The  pretty  ladies  one  and  all, 

Are  going  to  join  the  bloomers. 
Since  Mrs.  Dexter's  come  to  town. 

She  says,  oh  what  a  row  sir, 
The  men  shall  wear  the  petticoats 

And  ladiQs  wear  the  trousers. 
Oh,  did  you  hear,  &c. 

Now  Mrs.  Dexter's  come  to  town, 

She  says,  she'll  not  be  lazy, 
But  quickly  turn  the  ladies  brains. 

And  set  the  men  all  crazy, 
Old  maids  and  lasses  fine  and  gay, 

Short  stumpy  tall  and  bandy, 
I-iong  petticoats  now  throw  away, 

And  beat  the  yanky  dandy. 

Prince  Albert  and  the  Queen  one  day 

Had  such  a  jolly  row  sirs. 
She  threw  off  her  petticoat 

And  put  on  boots  and  trousers  ; 
Won't  it  be  funny  for  to  see 

Ladies  possessed  of  riches, 
Riding  up  and  down  the  town 

In  Wellingtons  and  breeches. 

Now  you  with  ancles  short  and  thick,' 

Of  every  rank  and  station. 
Oh,  won't  you  cut  it  fine  and  slick. 

By  this  new  alteration. 
And  landladies  that  creep  about, 

Well  known  as  twenty  stoners, 
Come  shove  your  bustles  up  the  spout, 

And  join  the  dashing  bloomers. 

The  bloomers  dress  the  people  say. 

Is  getting  all  the  go  now. 
The  pretty  factory  lasses  they. 

Will  cut  a  gallant  show  now. 
In  petticoats  above  their  knees, 

And  breeches  too  you'll  find  them 
Nice  jackets  made  of  velveteen, 

All  button'd  up  behind  them. 


Now  married  men  take  my  advice, 

vStep  out  and  spend  your  riches, 
And  buy  your  wives  all  in  a  trice, 

Short  petticoats  and  breeches. 
For  in  the  fashion  she  will  hop. 

When  e'er  she's  out  of  humour, 
I  wonder  if  her  tongue  will  stop, 

When  she  becomes  a  bloomer. 

Last  night  my  wife  she  said  to  me, 

Tom,  when  we  get  the  notes  in, 
I'll  have  a  pair  of  gaiters,  and. 

Breeches  made  of  goats  skin, 
A  pair  of  boots  and  silver  spurs. 

For  I  have  got  such  bad  legs, 
I  cannot  hide  I'll  have  to  ride. 

The  donkey  now  a  strad-legs. 

The  men  must  go  out  selling  fish. 

And  deal  in  shrimps  and  mussels, 
Dress'd  up  in  ladies  petticoats. 

Fine  flounces  and  big  bustles, 
You'll  have  no  call  to  work  at  all, 

But  walk  out  in  your  broaches. 
The  ladies  are  determined,  for. 

To  drive  the  cabs  and  coaches. 

The  tailors  now  must  all  be  sharp 

In  making  noble  stitches 
And  be  sure  and  clap  their  burning  goose, 

Upon  the  ladies'  breeches ; 
Their  pretty  little  fingers  will 

Be  just  as  sore  as  mutton. 
Until  that  they  have  found  the  way 

Their  trousers  to  unbutton. 

You  factory  lasses  one  and  all 

Your  dresses  all  reform  now 
Buy  a  jacket  and  a  trousers  for 

To  keep  you  snug  and  warm  now  ; 
Short  petticoats  and  garters  too 

No  matter  how  the  times  goes 
A  billycock  and  feather  for 

To  see  which  way  tlie  wind  blows. 


M.  O'LOUGHNAN. 


690 


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