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The pos oft filiT Orl| beg the sior oth( first sior or l( The shal TIN whi Mar diff( enti begi righ reqi met This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ Ce document est film* au taux de reduction indiqu6 ci-dessous. 10X 14X 18X 22X 12X J 26X 30X 16X 20X 24X 28X 32X The copy filmed here hes been taproduced thanks to the generosity of: Bibliothdque nationale du Quebec L'exemplaire filmd fut reproduit grflce & la g6n6rosit6 de: Bibliothdque nationale du Quebec The images appearing here are the best quality possible considering the condition and legibility of the original copy and in keeping with the filming contract specifications. Original copies in printed paper covers are fili. it i. » ( i MONTREAL: AR1V10UR & RAMSAY; KINGSTON: RAMSaV, ARMOUR ft CO.} HAMII/rON : A. H. ARMOUR ft CO.; at'KBKC : T. CARY ft CQ. J TORONTO : H. ft W. ROWSKLL, AND HUGH SCODIE- IHU. 40591 I > » » v 1 I : THE GARLAND. THE aUF&N'S ANTHEM. From perils, pangs and woes, WUh-nheUro-r;^^^^ Firm, ?<="«'',f/'^l°" Sound ;- Just, n?hteous, s»fV„een- God save our UrUCBi Glr.tSa%&» ^tUlfor ihe Commonweal, . still lor lu^ ^^„„nds to heal ,— »*'P'god save our aueen. Gow" »o ^P""^ • . Unsyllablcd— unsung ! 1 marvel, J'-y"o Morrison, As ve hae been tome t Oh« ten mc guUheir music fills „ !.vM p'.st, I've wander'd west, I've wander d cfvsi, i t, B^UnnJy"-nXSgn^-rnear, Tl^frnul-rfirSstfrae this heart. «,; 1 Vravels on its way ; . And channels deeper as it rms The luve o' life's young day O dear, dear JoanieMorriso^^^^^ r^TveT.^n^^^S.r.'^^"' B;^K'wuVarj Sdness. Di^l^ull^Kl' V"eV''"' ''T:?. Mo«.r«^^^ O' bygane days and me. O FORTHEMEaEY MOOBUGHT BOOB. N' I ! N' Plail to the dime where Beauty's power Is stamped on every plant and Tec; Joy's rosy throne-Love's wedding bower- Land of our choice, fajr Italy ! O for the dance !— the dance at even !— Woman's smile is loveliest then ; O for the notes which came from Heaven, Which came— but ne'er returned apain. Blessed be these notes ! they Ions have striven To keep the young heart warm and tree ; And never was boon to mortals given, Like the song of tervid Italy- O for the morn ! the glorious morn ! When souls were proud, and hopes were high, Ere the Eagle's fiery plume was torn, Or his course grew dark in the western sky. That wild bird s wing is shrunk and shorn, Yet our empire winds from sea to sea ; Fame's wandering torch o'er earth is borne, Love's, shines alone for Ital y ! Wm. Kennedy. THE ROYAL UNION. There's joy in the Lowlands and Highlands. There's joy in the hut and the ha' ; The pride.o' auld Britain's lair islands, Is woo'd and wedded an. a' : She's got the dear lad o' her choosing— A lad that's baith gallant and braw ; And lang may the knot be a-loosmg That firmly has buckled the twa. Woo'd an' wedded an a , Buckled an' bedded an-^ a', The loveliest lassie in Britain Is woo'd an' wedded an' a', May heaven's all-bountiful Giver Shower down his best gifts on the twa; May love round their couch ever hover, Their hearts close and closer to draw. 1M Mny never misfortune o'ertake them, Nor blast o' atWersity blaw ; But every new mo -ning awake tliern To pleasures unsullied as snaw. Woo'd an' wedded an' a , &c. Then here's to our aucen an' her ^larrow, May happiness ay be their ia , May discord and sickness and sorrow Be banished for ever their ha . So, fy let us coup ail our oicker, And toast meikle joy to thd twa, And may they, till life's latest flicker, Together in harmony draw. ^ J Woo'd and wedded an a , &c. t. ■ THE WIDOW MALONE. {From Charles O'Malley') Did ye hear of the Wilow Malone, ^ Ohone I Who lived in the town of Athlone Alone? Oh ! she melted the hearts Of the swains in them parts,' So lovely the Widow Malone, Ohone ! So lovely the Widow Malone. Of lovers she had a full score, or more ; And fortunes they all had galore In store ; From the minister down To the clerk of the crown, All were courting the Widow Malone, Ohone ! All were courting the Widow Malone. ;• But so modest was Mrs Malone. 'T was known No one ever could see her alone, Oiione ! Let them oKle and sigh, They could ne'er catch her eye, So bashful the "Widow Malone, Ohone -, So bashful the widow Malone. 'Till one Mister O'Brien from Clare, How quare ! It's little lor blushing they care Down there, Put his arm round her waist, Gave ten kisses at laste, " Oh!" says he,** you're my Molly Malono, My own , ^^ «« Oh !" says he, '* you're my Molly JM alone- And ihe "Widow they all thought so shy, My eye 1 Ne'er thought of a simper or sigh, For why 1 But '• Lucius," says she, '« Since you've made now so free. You may marry your Mary Malone, Ohone ! You may marry your Mary Malone." ' There's a moral contained in my song, Not wrong ; And one comfort it's not very long, But strong ; If for widows you die. Lam to kiss, not to sigh ; For they're all like sweet Mistress Malone, Ohone ! Oh ! they're all like sweet Mistress Malone^ THE WEE RAGGIT LADDIE. Wee stuffv, stumpy, dumpy Jaddje, Thou urchin elfin, bare an' duddy, Thy phimpit kite an' cheek sae ruddy ^ Are fairly baggit, Although the breekums on thy tuddy Are e'en right raggit. Thv wee roun' pate so black an' curly, An5 u'a bare feet sae stoure an; bu r ly. The biting frost, though snell an buriy An' sair to bide, Is scouted by thee thou hardy wurly, . Wi' sturcy pride- « ^ -v,o«r pnmp win', come weet, r*nmp frost come iinaw, conit win ? ^^ 8;"' tocn dubs, thvouglx s ush an' sleet, Thou patters wi' thy wee ml feet Ri-'ht bauld an' sicker, An- ne'efwast kenned to whmge or greet, _ But for thy bicker. Onr eentrv's wee peel-garlic gets &n bLr meol; an' sma a^ swat^. Wi' thin beef tea, an' scours o sau.s, To keep them pale ; But aitmeal parfitch straughts thy guts, An' thick Scotch kail- Thy grannie's paiks, the maister's whippin', Tan never mend Jhy gait o' kippin';, . rv^seen thThall schule bairiues irippm' A' after thee, u:„r.;n' An' thou aff, like a young colt, skippm Far ower the lea. 'Man? HRllowfair's wild, noisy brattle, Sst foughten n^onv a weary baUle. Stridin' owre horse, an' yerkm cattle Wi' noisy glee.. Nae jockey's whup nor drover's watUe, Can frighten thee. Ilk kiltit Celt, ilk raggit Paddy. Ilk sooty sweep, ilk creeshy caddie, Ilk tree-legg'd man, ilk club-taed laddie, Ilk oily loary, ^, , . , Ilk midden mavis, wee black jaudy, A' dread an' fear ye- Ilk struttin' swad. ilk reelin' sailor, Ilk rosin't snab, ilk barkm t nailer, Ilk flunky bauld, ilk coomy collier, ilk dusty batchy, Ilk muckle grab, ilk little tailor, A' strive to catch ye. Ilk thimblin', thievin', gamblin' diddler. Ilk bellows-mendin' tinkler driddler, Ilk haltin', hirplin'. bhndit fiddler, Ilk wee speech- crier, Ilk lazy, ballant-singin' i(^:er, Chase thee like hre. Ilk waly-draiglin', dribblin' wight, Wha sleeps a' day, an' drinks a night, An' stagger's hame in braid daylight, Bleerit, blin', an' s(faur, . Thou coverest hin. up, a movin trignt, Wi' dunts o^ glaur- Ilk auid wife stoyterin' wi' her drappie, In teapot, bottle, stoup, or cappie, Fu' snugly tauldit in her lappie, Wi' couthy care. Thou gar'st the hidden treasure jaupie A' in the air. At e'en, when weary warkmen house. Their sair fourfoughten spunks to rouse, An' owreth' inspirin' whisky bouse, 10 Croon mony a ditty. Thou sits amang them bauld and crouse, Whiffin' thy cutty. Thine education's maistly perfect, An' though thou now are wee an' barefoot, Thou'lt be a swankin', spunky spark yet, Or I'm mista'cn, Unless misfortunes gurly bark yet Should change thy vein. O, why should age, wi' cankered e'e, Condemn thy pranks o' rattlin' glee, W^ a' were callants ance, like thee, An' happier then Thau, after clambcrin' up life's tree. We think us men. James Ballantine, Edinburgh. A BRITISH SAILOR'S SONG. A Ship ! a ship ! a gallant ship ! the foe is on the main ! A ship ! a gallant ship ! to bear our thunder forth again ! Shall the stripes, and stars, or tricolor, in triumph sweep the sea, While the flag of Britain waves aloft, the fearless atid the free 1 Nobly' she comes in warlike trim, careering through the wave, The hope, the home, the citadel of Britain and the brave. Well may the sailor's heart exult, as he gazes on the sight, To murmur forth his country's name, and think upon her might' How proudly does the footstep rise upon the welcome deck. As if at every pace we trod upon a foeman's neck ! Hurrah I hurrah ! let mast and yard before the tempest bend, rni ..-_ -Ct.1 J c, ^ ,,« „»^ „«^«^-. ^^>. -Tn^ r.Unll -..nv^^l lOAl. ICllVi. .-- At*i«, ■^9^.y^li ■ .- ^-^ 11 Our country's standard floats above, the ocean breeze to And her thunder sleeps in awful quiet beneath our tramp- But let a foeman fling abroad the banner of his wrath, And a moment will awake its roar to sweep him trom our path ! No foreign tyrant ever through our wooden bulwarks broke, No British bosom ever quailed within our walls of oak ; Let banded foes and angTy seas around our ship conspire. To tread our glorious decks, would turn the coward s blood to fire ! Out every reef! let plank, and spar, and rigging crack again! Let a broad belt of snow surround our pathway through the Hiffh to the straining top-mast nail the British ensign fast— We may go down, but never yield, and it shall sink the last. Our country's cause is in our arms, but her love is in our And by the deep that underneath our bounding vessel rolls— By heaven above, and earth below, to the death lor her Out aueen and country is the word '.—and God defend the jjgrht! E.Fmkcrton. OH ! WHY LEFT I MY HAME Oh ! why left 1 my hame 1 Why did 1 cross the deep '? Oh I why left I the land Where ray forefathers sleep 1 I sigh for Scotia^s shore, And 1 gaze across the sea, But 1 canna get a blink O my ain countrie. wm 12 The palm-free waveth high, And fair the myrtle springs And to the Indian maid ^ ' Ihebulbul* sweetly sines; ' «ut I dmna see the broom. VVi Its tassels on the iea, ^or hear the lintie's sanff t^myamcountrie. Oh ! here, no sabbath bell Awakes the sabbath morn : ^orsonff of reapers heard Amang the yellow corn : . A Vil® *^^^P^'« ^oice is here. And the wail of slavery ■ Jiut the sun of freedom shines ■in my ain coui?trie. There's hope for every woe, And a balm for every pain, ^ut the first joys of our heart t-ome never back again. 1 here's a track upon the deep, And a path across the sea, ^ut the weary ne'er return 1 o their am countrie .f Giljillan. THE GROVES OF BLARNEY AlPh^h ^^^\^^"ey they are so charming Being bLked^^i If ^ "^ • ''^'^^ ^^^^"^ «lr^^4 Pl^n^^dltt^^^^^^^^^ there. • The NightingalZ ~ thl ^'Babe?S.„f ^7 t^^S^^^ -'"^'^ ---Hs 0. of ft-om « Original ^ational Melodies nf^«''*, ^'5 ^''"^^^ But waen the wind blows off the shore, ' O ! sweetly we'll rest onr weary oar ' Blow, breezes, blow, &c. Utawa tide ! this trembling moon, S.fn y.w ^"'^ ^"^.^r ^^y «"^ges sion : Saint of this green isle ! hear our prayer Grant us cool heavens and favourinjair ! Blow, breezpfi. himv ^ MoOTi cc. c n. LL. 15 A CANADIAN BOAT SONG. T1«tV ' comrades hark '.-the evening gun, (P Ju away steadily-all pull cheenly,) Sd TJo^oX for t^e night breeze will soon Ripple the wave of the silvery moon •, Happy we be, Fearless and tree, Pulling away o'er the moonht sea. Pnll awav boys, with main and might, Wedip of ouToa^fandthechime of oar Bong •, Hearty we be, Merrv and free, Pulling away o'er ihe dark blue sea. 1 adies at best hold landsmen cheap, rPull lads, readily-^all pull merrily.) BeauVy smiles on sons of the deep, fp.\ll bnvs steadily— away cheerily,) i^nd berj;;afeyes:iet them -Y -haUhey will, Beam ever brightest on blue jackets still , Happy are we? Jovial and free, Pulling away o'er the heavy sea. ^" ^ J.IJ. Willis, Quebec. ■■¥ii THE ANGEL'S WING- When by the evening's quiet light There sit two silent lovers, They say, while in such tranquil plight, An angel round them hovers ; r ■ i i !■' 16 And fiirther still old legends tell,~ The first who breaks the silent spell, io say a soft and pleasing thing, Hath felt the passing angel's wing. Thus a musing minstrel stray'd By the summer ocean. Gazing on a lovely maid, With a bard's devotion : — Yet his love he never spoke, 1 ill now the silent spell he broke • The hidden fire to flame did spring, Fann'd by the passing angePs wing ! ' 1 have loved thee well and long !— j! With love of Heaven's own making!— This is not a poet's song But a true heart's speaking ; 1 will love thee, stiil untired !' He felt— he spokc~as one inspired— The words did from Truth's fountain spring, Upwaken'd by the angel's wing! Silence o'er the maiden fell, Her beauty lovelier making; And by her blush, he knew full well The dawn of love was breaking. It came like sunshine o'er his heart ! — He felt that they should never part, She spoke— and oh !— the lovely thing Had felt the passing angel's wing. Lover. THE BATTLE OP THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM. I* On Abraham shone nor moon nor star, Yet quickly gathered from afar The rushing tide of ruthless War, }n ail its pomp and revelry 1 ! ieiry. 17 III. , IV. 1, .ana • now on the strand, Cape Di''«°J;'';'Prv^saU stand : ^ In silence, chief and vMsa ,,jand,— „ Fast from -* ^^''Kuntai. rapidly - Those were n" .''^"'fiirorieM sun, And o'er^h« height, hl^e^^^.^^^ ^^^^^^y VI1« Now from the ™le Wow ^.d^n^e^^^^ ^ - fn h«ried pace .he hos^s. o^,„^^^ g,^„^„__ ■^•SSirgTmrtheencmy. viu* Ah ' ere yon orb, with fading ray, Sifail ffild the closing scejies of day. ii. — B » 18 IX. But hark ! the signal now is ^iven • The air with warlike sounds is riven : Each foeman rests his cause on heaven : Mark -mark his eye of bravery T As wave meets wave upon the shore, So deepens fast the combat's roar : High is each arm, and deep in gore, The field is red and slippery. XI. ■Yet onward-^onward, press the brave ; Around them flags opposing wave :— " Our country or a glorious grave !' Is shouted high and cheerily. XII. And now the pibroch's mountain tones Are heard amid death's dismal groans : 1 hey fire Old Albyn's fearless sons- Woe— woe, to France's chivalry. XIII. They think on Scotia's hills and glades : They whirl in air their tartan plaids— In blood they dye their dauntless blades ;— Saint Andrew !— their's is victory ! XIV. But over whom, so pale and cold, Dares death his sable ensign fold '? Alas ! 'tis Wolfe- the good and bold : His life's blood gushes rapidly I XV. A S A veteran at the warrior's side The glorious issue saw, and cried ^ *' They run I "—the sinking hero sigheu , " Thank God !— 1 die contentedly !" D. Chisholme. -■i.Tiamw-i' 19 TBECHESAPE^KEANDSHANNON. lav as the Chesapeake lay, Sr^?.fhe'VShUUUc f i?ate the Shannon- I»;&^oTrt';Sann„n. n .„, callinK all hands to muslcr, Then he made a great bluster, calUng ^^^^^ . ^Tni said, Now b?ys rtand h ^^^^,_^^ ^^,^y_ :?^hVaU'pfaUrptvsthe Shannon. WUhin two hours spj«;e, .o nml broadsides they exchange ', Now alongside they ^^"°fl^:'X^^^ ^ But heS^ankees soon flmch^ ^^,^ When the paptam anf 7J,^^^^ ^^^ g^annon, Are aitackM sword in »j^^ Shannon : tta^^r^ltr""'^'''^" • Vir'd a friendly salute, KIcitptKWktotheShannon.^ ^'k^r»|2oS^ Tweed. And let her take heed, that m gj^^„non. May the olive of peace, Soon bid enmityctt^e,^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^ Shannoo..- From tue v^uuaai/v-- — r • iri ^ 20 YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND. Ye mariners of England, That guard our native seas, Whose flag has braved a thousand years The battle and the breeze, Your glorious standard launch again, To mate^ another foe, And sweeii through the deep, While the stormy tempests blow^, While the battle rages loud and long, And I he stormy tempests blow. .The spirit ofyour fathers Shall fttart from every wave, For the deck it was their field of fame, And ocean was their grave. Where Blake and mighty, Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy trmpcsls How, VV^hile the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy tempists blow, Britannia needs no bulwark, No towers along the steep, Her march is o'er the mountain waves, Her home is on the dee]). With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below — As they roar, on the shore, When the stormy tempests blow, When the battle rages loud and Icng , And the stormy tempests blow. The meteor fla^ of England Shall yet terrific burn, Till danger's troubled night depart And the star of peace return. Then, then : 4. ocean* warriors, *l r^^ 21 Our song and fea«t shall flow To the fame of your name, When the storm has ceased to blow, When the fiery fi^ht is heard no more, And the storm has ceased to blow. Campbell 'TIS THE LAST ROSE OF SUM^IER 'Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone ; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone ; No flower of her kindred, ]So rose-*bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, Or give sigh for sigh. I'll not leave thee, thou lone one, To pine on ihy stem- Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them; Thus kindly i scatter Thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy males of the garden Lie scented and dead. So soon may I follow When friendships decay. And from love's shining circle The gems drop away ; When true hearts lie wither d And fond ones are flown, Oh ! who could inhabit This bleak world alone I THE BRAW FICKLE WOOER. Last May a braw wooer cam down the langglen, And sair wi' his bve he did deave me ; '11 22 1 said there was naething I hated like men ! The deuce gae m'm to believe me, beheve me, The deuce gae wi'm to believe me. He spak o' the darts o' my bonny black een, And vow'd for my love lie vas diein ; I said he might die when he liked, for Jean, The Lord forgive rre for lien ! for lien, The Lord forgive me for lisn ! A weelstocked mailin, himsel for the lainl, And marriage, aff-hand. were his proffers ; 1 never loot on that I ken'd it or car'd But thought I might hae waur offers, waur otfers, .But thought 1 might hae waur offers, But v;hat wad de ye think ? in a fortnight or less, The dell take his taste to gae near heT ! He up the lang loan to my black cousin Bess, Guess ye how the jade, I could bear her, could bear her Guess ye how, the Jade, 1 could bear her- But a' the neist week as I fretted wi' care, 1 gaed to the tryst o' Dalgarnock, And wha but my fine fickle wooer was there, I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock, a warlock. I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock. But owre my left shouther I gae him a blink, Lest neebors might say I was saucy ; Mv wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink, And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie, And vow'd 1 was his dear lassie. I spier'd for my cousin, fu, couthy and sweet, Gin she had recovered heT hearin, . „, ^ . And how her new shoon fit her auld sharh.'t feet, Gude Lord I how he fell a swearin, a swearin, Gude Lord ! how he fell a swearin- He beerged, for Gudesake ! 1 wad bo i.is wi.e» Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow ; So jus I th 1th ONE One nigh roUini When Bi Bowl A strong i now Lord help Foolhar( all in And nov shou Poor ere noti( For our{ Then as hous And, lat and While y My eyes flyii And ofti don By over We've toti So' Bill 23 «!n Inst (0 Dreserve the poor body in life, VSiink ! maun w- 1 nim to- morrow, lo-morrow, 1 think I maun v ed him to-morrow. ^^^^^ ONE NIGHT CAME ON A HURRICANE- One night come on a hurricane the sea was mountains WhrnBfr'ney Buntin turned his quid, and said to Billy A stl'on^'Sw.wester's blowing, Billy- can't you hear it roar Lord"h"fp >em, how I pities all unhappy g^k^-^^^ore now 1 Foolhardy chaps as Uves in to»ns, what dangers they are And" now they're quaking in their beds for tear the .«of Poo;''crcltel,"how they envies us. and wishes, I've a For Sur gSid luct, in such a storm, to be^up^on^he ocean. Then as to them kept out all day on business from tlieir And'S'at night, are walking home to cheer their babes flying ! Bow, wow, wow. And often have we seamen heard how men are killed or un- iJ-v- --J -■- J -- 24 ELIZA. From thee, Eliza, I must go. And from my native shore ; The cruel fates between us throw A boundless ocean's roar : But boundless ocean, roai ag wide, Between my love and me, They never, never can divide My heart and soul from thee. Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear, The maid that I adore ! A boding voice is in my ear, We part to meet no more ! But the last throb that leaves my heart, While death stands victor by. That throb, Eliza, is thy part, And thine that latest sigh. Burns- THE FRIAR. A JotiLY fat friar lov'd liquor good store, And he had drank stoutly atsupper, He mounted his horse in the night at the door, And sat with his face to the crupper, * Some rogue,' quoth the friar, 'quite dead to remorse, Some thief, whom a halter will throttle — Some scoundrel has cut off the head of my horse, While 1 was engaged with the bo'tle — Which went gluggity, giuggity, glug. The tailof this steed pointed south on the dale. *Twas the friar's road home, straight and level— A>ui vvuc.il .jpurf u, u, liurBc loiiows nis iiOSe, iiui Wis Itui; So he scaraper'd due north like the devil. 25 'This new moae of docking,' the fat friar said, 'I perceive does not make a horse trot ill ; And 'tis cheap, for he never can eat off his head, While 1 am engag'd with the bottle, >v uue oc*5 Which goes gluggity, &c» The steed made a stop, in the pond he had got, He was rather for drinking than grazing ; auoth the friar, ' 'Tis strange headless horses should trot^ But to drink with their tails is amazing. Turnin- round to find whence this phenomenon rose, In the pond fell this son of the bottle ; auoth he, ' the head's found, for Pm under his nose ; I wish I was over the bottle,' .. * . 1 wi&a was u Which goes gluggity, &c. se. tail; REST, WARRIOR REST . He comes from the wars, from the red field of fight He comes thro' the storm, and the darkness of night, For rest and for refuge now fain to implore, The warrior bends low at the cottager's door ; Pale, pale, is his cheek. there> 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, Like a languishing lamp, that just Aa^hes^to die^^^ ^^^^^ Sunk in silence and sleep, in the cottager's bed, Oblivion shall visit the war-weary head ; Perchance he may dream, but the vision shall tell Of his lady-love's pow'r and her latest farewell ; Illusion and love chase the battle's alarms, He shall dream that his mist ss lies lock'd m bis arms ; He shall feel on his lips the sweet warmth of her kiss, .. . • .,.„1 — ..^f u.i/-^'^''- I'll strike the light gmjat^_ _ _„„ ^^ ill Slug tt =w"&i '^^ \ |i; ' u t h i 28 WHEN WE TWO PARTED IN SILENCE AND TEi^ RS. When we two parted, In silence and tears, ilalt broken hearted, To sever for years, I'ale grew thy cheek, and cold Colder thy kiss ! Truly that hour foretold oorrow to this. The dew of the morning 5unk chill on my brow Jt felt like the warning Of what I feel now. 1 hy vows are all broken And light is thy fame, I near thy name spoken. And share in its shame. They name thee before me A knell to mine ear ; A shudder comes o'er me— Why wert thou so dear 1 ^k7u^^^^ "^^ ^ know thee Who knew thee too well ' Long, long shall I rue thee 1 00 deeply to tell. In secret we met. In silence I grieve, 1 hat my heart would forget, ihysDirit deceive 1 If I should meet thee After lon^ years, ^ow should I greet thee 1 ^ With si! pnr>a ami 4-^^-^^ I — -•»^vr UiXZU VeCUQa' I SA Myron ^ ^CE 29 MARY, I BELIEVED THEE TRUE- Mary, I believed thee true, . And I was blest in thus IwUeving ; But now 1 mourn ihat e'er I knew A girl so fair and so deceiving. Few have ever loved like me ; Oh ' 1 have loved thee too sincerely I And few have e'er deceived like thee, Alas ! deceived me too severely. Fare thee well ! yet think awhile On one whose bosom bleeds to doubt thee ; Who now would rather trust that smiU^, And die with thee than live without thee. Fare thee well '.I'll think on thee Thou leav'st me many a bitter token ; For see, distrax^ting woman, see My peace is gone, my heart is broken. SAW THY FORM m YOUTHFUL PRIME. 1 Saw thy form in youthful prime. Nor thought that pale decay Would steal before the steps of time And waste its bloom awav, Mary '. Yet still thy features wore that light Which fleets not with the breath ; And life ne'er looked more truly bright Than in thy smile of death, Mary '. As streams that run o'er golden mines, Yet humbly, calmly glide, Nor seem to know the wealth that shines Within their gentle tide, Mary ! So^yeil'd beneath the simplest guise, 'I'hy radiaui genius SiiOiis, And that which charm'd all other eyes, Seem'd worthless in thy own, Mary I 30 Ifsoulscould always dwell above Though ne'er hadst left that sphere • Or could we keep the souls we love, We ne er had lost thee here, Mary » 1 hough many a gifted mind we meet! 1 hough fairest forms we see, To live with them is far less sweet 1 han to remember thee, Mary ! I SAW FROM THE BEACH. I SAW from ihe beach, when the morning was shinin-, A bark o'er .he waters moved gloriously on • °' ,1 came when the sun o'er that beach was declining - The bark was still there, but the waters were gone ! Ah ! such is the fate of our life's early promise, 550 passing the spring tide of joy we Kave kniwn • Each wave, that we danced on al morning, ebbs from us And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore aloneT ' N^er tell me of glories, serenely adorning 1 he close of our day, the calm eve of our night :- lt?2nt' ^Tu ""^ ^^'^ '^^ ^»'d freshnosLf morning Her clouds and her tears are worth evening's best light Oh, who would not welcome that moment's retiring, And hi lived in that house as a dairy.woman, but now resides with poetical immortality. Burns, after a long courtship, flnd having agreed that they should be married, m<«t her on tie banks of the Ayr, to live one day of parting love, in anticipation of a visit she was to pay to her relations at Campbeltown Jn Ar- gvleshire. Mary died at Greenock on her return, and thus left a A «-Ki^"i^r.P*?®*X''*'^^*^*T''T,'^'''^^ nothing thereafter filled up. A Bible, the Gift of Burns to Highland Mary, was purchased from a distant relation of hers m Montreal a few years ago. It wa?^ sent to Scotland, and it is deposited inside the Poets Monument near Ye banks, and braes, and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers. Your waters never drumlie 1 There simmer first unfiauld her robes, ^ And there the langest tarry ; a or there I took the last fareweel O' my sweet Highland Mary. \ 33 HoTV sweetly bloomed the gay green bitlh How rich the hawthorn's blossora, ^ . Asunderneath their fragrant shacic, I claspM her to my bosom ! The eolden hours, on angel wings, Flew o'er me and my dearie ; For dear to me as %>* ^ J M«rv Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony avow, andlock'd embrace, Our parting was fu' tender ; And pledging aft to meet again, We toreoursels asunder; But, Oh! fell death's untimely frost, That nipt my flower sae ear y . Now green's the sod, ^Jjd cauld J the clay. That wraps ray Highland Mary i Oh pale, pale now, those rosy lips, laft hae kiss'd sae fondly '• ,. ^ .^^_ And cWd for aye the spark ing glance That dwelt on me sae kindly . And mouldering now m silent dust That heart that loe'd me dearly ! But still within igr.^ofom^T^^J^ Shall live my Highland Maiy- ^^^^ AULD LANG SYNE. SiiouLB auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind 1 Should auld acauamtance be forgot, And days o' fang syne i CHORDS. For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne W^'ll take a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne- C \ 34 |We (wa hoe run about the braes, i And pu'd the f^owans line ; But we ve wandered mony a weary toot, bin auld lang syne- We twa hae paidl't i' the burn, Frae mornin' sun till dine ; But seas between us braid hae roar'd, Sin auld lang syne. And here's a hand, my trusty friend, A nd eie's a hand o' thine ; And we II tak a right guid waly-waught, For auld lang syne. And surely yeMl be your pint-stoup. And surely I'll be mine ; And we'll talc a cup o' kindness yet For auld lang syne. Burns. TRUE LOVE CAN NE'ER FORGET. [It is related of Carolan, the Irish bard, that after his los^ nf " True love can ne'er forget, — Fondly as when we met, Dearest I love thee yet, My darling one !" Thus sang a Minstrel grey. His sweet impassion 'd lay, Down by the Ocean's spray, At rise of Sun ; But wither'd was the Minstrel's sight, Morn to him was dark as night. Yet his heart was full of light, As he this lay began, — " True love can ne'er forget, Fondly as when we met Dearest I love thee yet, ' My darling one !" 35 Lone years arc past and o'er, Since from this fatal shore. cSld hmts, and cold mnds bore, Mv love from me- ^ Srarcelv the Minstrel spoke When quick, with flashing stroke, A boaWiight oar the silence broke. Over the Sea- Soon upon nativo strand, ^tu^tt^I^i-t^'s" -taught hand Did o'er his sweet harp run,- i( True love can ne er torget, Fondly as when we met, Dearest I love thee yet, My darling one ! Where the Minstrel sat alone, T-hpre that Lady fair hath gone, Within his hanJ she plac' man, And twere na for the lasses, O. "^ A^.T^'"'? race may riches chase, . And 1 jches still mav flv th.^ A . -timJ tiio' at last ihey -"♦"-»'"**«^'"- - ' Their heart fast* s can ne^er enjoy them, 0. bJuff mgh. za f'j trife, a wife. 43 Gie m« a canny hour at e'en, My arms about my dearie, O ; And warl'ly cares, and warl'ly men, May a' gae lapsalteerie, O. For you sae douce, ye sneer at thi'^, Ye're nought but sen»tl3ss asses, O: The wisest man the warl' e'er saw, He dearly loe'd the lasses, O. Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O ; Her 'prentice han' she tried on man, Anu then she made the lasses, 0« Burns. d roBj^h, >din. i\ BLACK EYED SUSAN. All in the Downs the fleet lay moor'd The streamers waving in the wind, When black^'Cyed Susan came on board — Oh ! where shall I my true love find ? Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true, It my sweet William sails among your crew. Williairs who high upon the yard Rock'd with the billows to and fro. Soon as her well known voice he heard, He sigh'd, and cast his eyes below • The cord glides swiftly thro' his glowing hands, And quick as lightning on the deck he stands. So the sweet lark, high pois'd m air, Shuts close his pinions to his breast, If chance his mate's shrill call he hear, And drops at once into her nest* The noblest captain in the British fleet Alight envy William's lips those kisses sweet, u Susan, Susan, lovely dear! My vows shalj ever true remain Yea vPflhT P^'^*^ mistress find : wakes m my soul some charm of lovelfsue. The''»dlT?J,"-^*''* '.^« "^'^^ful word, 1 ne sails their swe ing bosom sorea,) Th Jel%.t'boiVi^r' •>« """^ his head. Adiaii I Vk =* • J ' unwilling rows to land • Ad,eu ! she cried and wavetl her lily Cdf Gay. THE LASS OF BALLOCHMYLE. On !v ""^^ J*^® 4^^y fieWs were green ^On every blade the pearls han/ ^ ' * AnH^Cr r:*"i'on'd round the bean. And l)ore its fragrant sweets alang : 45 In ev'ry glen the mavis sansf, All nature list'ning seem'd the while, Except where greenwood echoes rangj Amang the braes o' Ballochmyle. With cai-eless step I onward stray'd, My heart rejoiced in nature's joy, When, musini? in alonelv glade, A maiden fair I chanc'u to spy ; tier look was like the morning e eye, Her air like nature's vernal smile, Perfection whisperM passing by, Behold the lass o' Ballochmyle! Fair is the morn in flow'ry May, And sweet is night in autumn mild ; When roving through (he garden gay, Or wandering in the lonely wild : But woman, nature's darling child ! There all her charms she does compile ; Ev'n there her other works are foil'd By the bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle. Oh, had she been a country maid, And I the happy country swain, Tho' sheller'd m the lowest shed That ever rose on Scotland's plain. Thro' weary winter's wind and rain, With joy. w th rapture, 1 would toil ; And nightly to my bosom strain The bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle ! Then pride might climb the slipp'ry steep, Where fame and honours lofty shine ; And thirst of gold might tempt the deep. Or 'downward seek the Indian mine; Give me the cot below the pine. To tend the; flocks, or till the soil. And evervdav have lovs divine Willi the bonnie lass' o' Ballochmyle. Burnt' 46 THE BAY OF BISCAY O ! LovD roar'd the dreadful thunder, The rain a deluge show'rs ; The clouds were rent assunder By lightning's vivid powers ! 1 he night both drear and dark : Our poor devoted bark! Till next day, There she lay, In the Bay of Biscay O ? Wow, dashM upon the billow, Her op'ning timbers creak: Each fears a wat'ry pillow ! None stop the dreadful leak !— To cling to slipp'ry shrouds Each breathless seaman crowds, As she lay, Till the day, In tfco Bay of Biscay O! At length the wish'd-for morrow Broke through the hazy sky • Absorb'd in silent sorrow, " ' Each heaved a bitter sigh ' The dismal wreck to view Struck horror to the crew, As she lay, On that day, In the Bay of Biscay O ! Her yielding timberis sever ; ixr¥*'' Pijchy seams are rent ! When Heav'n (all bounteous ever) Its boundless mercy sent ! A sail in sight appears ! We hail her with three cheers ! Now we sail With the gale From the Bay of Biscay O ! A. Cherry, 47 THE BANKS O' DOON. Ye banks and braes o' bonnic Doon, How can ye bloom sae tresh and fair ; How can ye* chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary in o' care ! Thou'lt break my heart, thou warblmg bird. That wantons thro' the flowering thorn : Thou minds me o' departed joys, Departed— never to return ! Aft hae I roved by bonnie Doon, . To seethe rose and woodbine twine ; And ilka bird sang o' its luve, And fondly say did I o mine. Wi' lightsome heart I pu d a rose, Fu» sweet upon its thorny tree ; And ray fause luver stole my rose, But, ah ! he left the thorn wi' me- Burns, THE BIRKS OP ABERFELDY- 4. lerry. CHORUS. Bonnie lassie, will ye go, Will ye go, will ye go ; Bonnie lassie, will ye go, To the birks of Aberfeldy ? Now simmer blinks on flowery braes, And o'er the crystal steamlet plays ; Come, let us spend the lightsome days 1q the birks of Aberfeldy. The little birdies blythely sing, tyhils n'pr their heads the hazels ning, oViightly flit on wanton wing In the birks of Aberfeldy. ,!■ ' 48 The braea ascend, like foff j wa's, The foamy stream deep- roaring fa's, erhung: wi fragrant spreading shaws, The birks of Aberfeldy. The hoary cliffs are crownM wi' flowers White er the linns the burnie pours. ' ^ml"^^"?' ^^^*^ ^^' "I'sty showers The birks of Aberfeldy. Let fortune'sgiflsat random flee, 1 hey neer shall draw a wish frae me. bupremely blest wi' love and thee, In the birks of Aberfeldy. Bums. OUR COUNTRV; or. BRITISH HEROES. Our country is the land we love ; JNought with it can compare, l- or statesmen wise, and heroes brave t or commerce and the fair ! 'Tis Britain's pride, No land beside ouch influence can maintain Go where you will, ,, Our country still,— You'll never find its like . jain ! For ages j)ast our admirals brave Fre^eminent have stood ; And spite of all the world, have held 1 he mast'ry of the flood. Howe, Duncan, Hood, And Collingwood, Long triumph'd o'er the main j While Nelson's name, fir ^ "*^^' '® FsLine !— nSJ rZ-"^^^J.««« their like again ! .i_-i«Tc siv^iuus iii iiic iiem we ve had : liemember Marlboro's name, With Abercrombie, Wolfe, and Moore, Who died to live in Fame I A nsflesea still, With gallant Hill And Wellington, remain ; Each to the end His country's friend ;— We may never see their liite again ! Her people, soldiers, tars, adore The Glueen ; and for her crown, Should danger threaten, as ot yore, Their lives would all lay down I She's Albion's boast, Whose cliff-robed coast Her sceptic will maintain ; While Truth shall own On Britain's throne We ne'er may see her like again. '■• i »;'. Dibclin. GO WHERE GLORY WAITS THEE. Go where glory waits thee, But while fame elates thee, Oh ! still remember me. When the praise thou meetest To thine ear is sweetest, Oh! then remember me. Other arms may press thee, Dearer friends caress thee. All the joys that bless thee, Sweeter far may be ; •But when friends are nearest, A _.i .»Ur.;, -irkV5>. BTB dearest. Oh ! then*'remember me I D 50 When, at eve, thou rovest By the star ihou iovest, Oh ! then remember me. Think, when home returninpj, Bright we've seen ii burning, Oh ! thus remember me. Oft as summer closes, When thine eye reposes On its iing'ring roses, Once so lov'd by thee, Think of her who wove them. Her who made thee love them, Oh ! then remember me- When, around thee dying, Autumn leaves are lying, Oh ! then remember me. And, at night, when gazing On the gay hearth blazing. Oh ! still remember me. Then should music, stealing All ihe soul of feeling, To thy heart appealing, Draw one tear from thee ; Then let memory bring thee Strains 1 us'd to sing thee,— Oh ! then remember me. Yet i Her 'Twi Oh! 'Tw Wh( And Wh( Swe( \V\y And Moore. THE MEETING OF THE WATERS.* There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meetjt Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart. * '* The Meeting: of the Waters" forms a part of that beautiful KCftnpry which lies between Rathdrum and Arlilow, in the county ot Wickiow. and these lines were suiafgested by a vihit to (his romantic spot, in tnesummerof the year 1807, \ The rivers A*'on and Avoca. / 51 Yet it was not that nature had shed o*er the scene Her purest of crystal and brightest of green C 'Twas not her soft magic of streamlet or hill, Oh ! no,— it was something more exquisite still. 'Twas that friends, the belov'd of my bosom, were near, Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear, i\nd who felt how the best charms of nature improve, When vvc see them reflected from looks that we love. Sweet vale of Avoca ! how calm could 1 rest Jn thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best, Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease. And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace ! Moore. DRINK TO HER. Drink lo her, who long Elalh wak'd the poet's sigh, The girl, who gave to song What gold could never buy. Oh ! woman's heart was made For minstrel hands alone; By other fingers play'd. It yields not half the tone. Then here's to her, who long Hatli wak'd the poet's sigh, The girl, who gave to song W liat gold could never buy ! At Beauty's door of glass, When Wealth and Wit once stood, They ask'd her, " whick might pass V^ She answered, " he, who couid." With golden key Wealth thought To pass— but ^twouid not do : While Wit a diamond brought. Which cut his brighc way through f I 1 52 So here's to her, who lonq" Hath wak'd the poet's sigh, "iThe girl, who gave to song What gold could never buy I The Love that seeks a home Where wealth or grandeur shines^ Js like the gloomy gnome, That dwells in dark gold mines. But oh ! the poet's love Can boast a brighter sphere ; Its native home's above, Tho' woman keeps it here ! Then drink to her, who long Hath waked the poet's sigh, The girl, who gave to song What gold could never buy ! Moore. COME O'ER THE SEA. Come o'er the sea, Maiden, with me, Mine thro' sunshine, storm, and snows ! Seasons may ro 1, But the true soul Birns the same, where'er it goes. L( t fate froWn oh, so We love and part hot 'Tis life where thou art, His death where th( u art not. Then come o'er the sea. Maiden, with me, Come wherever the wild wind blows j Seasons may roll. But the true soul Burns the same, where'er it goes. is not the sea Made for the Free, Land for courts and chains alone 1 53 Here we are slaves, But, on the waves, Love and Liberty's all our own. No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us, All earth forgot, and all heaven around us— Then come o'er the sea, Maiden, with me, Mine thro' sunshine, storm, and snows ; Seasons may roll, But the true soul, Burns the same, where'er it goes. Moore. OH FOR THE SWORDS OF FORMER TLME. Oh for the swords of former time ! Oh for ihe men who bore them. When arm'd for Right, they stood subhme, And tyrants crouch'd before them : When pure yet, ere courts began With honours to enslave him, The best honors worn by Man Were those which Virtue gave hun. Oh for the swords, &c. &c. Oh for the Kings who flourish'd then 1 Oh for the pomp that crown'd them, When hearts and hand J of freeborn men Were all the ramparts round them. When, safe built on bosoms true. The throne was but the centre, Round which Love a circle drew, That Treason durst not enter. Oh for the Kings who flourish'd then ! OU C 1.1 v^^ *Kof nvfWTan*!] thPlTl, When hearts and hands of freeborn men, Were all the ramparts round them ! Moore- m ^ 54. TO MARY IN HEAVEN. Thou ling' ring star, with Icss'ning ray, That lov'st to greet the early morn, Again thou usher'st in the day my Mary from my soul was lorn. Oh Mary ! dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest ? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid ? Ilear'st thou ti.e g;roans that rend his breast 1 That sacred hour can I forget, Can I forget that hallowed grove, Where by the winding Ayr wc met. To live one day of parting love! Eternity will not efface Those records dear of transports past ; Thy ima^e at our last embrace, Ah ! Ihtle thought we 'twas our last I Ayr, gurgling, kiss'd his pebbled shore, O'erhung with wild wood.s, ifiick'ning green > The fragrant birchj and hawfborn hoar, Twin d am'rous round the Vciptur'd scene; The flow'rs sprang wauion to be prest. The birds sang love on every spray — Tiil too, too soon, the glowing west Prociaim'd the speed of winged day. Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes, And fondly broods with raiser care ! Time but th' impression stronger makes, As streams their channels deeper wear. My iMary, dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest 1 See'st thou thy lover lowly laid 1 ji.2.xr,ii.i Bi lauu due giuaiis iuixi iviiu iiiis ujTCUSii ; Burn*' 55 OH, WILLIE BREW'D. Oh, Willie brew'd a peck o' maut, And Rob and Allan cam to prce : Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night, Ye wad na find in Christendie- ^ We are nae fou', we're no that fou , But just a drappie in our ee ; The cock may craw, the day mav daw, And aye we'll taste the bailey brec- Here are we met. three merry boys, Three merry boys I trow, are we ; And mony a night we've merry been, And mony mae we hope to be . It 19 the moon, I ken her horn, That's blinkin' in the lift sae hie ; She shines sae bright to wile us hame, But, by my sooth, she'll wait a wee ! Wha first shall rise to gang awa', A cuckold, coward loon is he ! Wha last beside his chair shall fa', He is the king amang us three ! Burns- I GAED A WAEFU' GATE YESTREEN 1 gaed a waefu' gate yestreen, A gate. I fear, I'll dearly rue ; I gat^my death frae twa sweet een, Twa lovely een o' bonnieblue. 'Twas not her golden ringlets bright ; Her lips like roses wat wi' dew, Her heaving bosom, lily-white- it \N as her een sae bonnie blue. She talkM, she smil'd- my heart she wil'd ; She charm'd my soul— 1 wist na how ; And aye the stound, the deadly wuunu, Cam frae her een sae bonnie blue. « 56 But spare to speak, and spare to speed ; She'll aiblins listen to ray vow ; Should she refuse, I'll lay my dead To her twa een sae bonnie blue. Burns- AVILL YE GO TO THE INDIES, MY MARY ! Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary, And leave auld Scotia's shore ? Will ye go to rhe Indies, my Mary, Across the Atlaniic's roar 7 Oh sweet grow the lime and the orange, * And the apple on the pine .- But a' the charms o' the Indies Can never equal thine. 1 hae sworn by thq Heavens to my Mary, I hae sworn by the Heavens to be true ; And sae may the Heavens forget me, When I forget my vow ! • Oh plight me your faith, my Mary, And plight me your lily-white hand ; Oh plight me your faith, my Mary, Before I leave Scotia's strand. V We have plighted our troth, ray Mary, In mutual affection to join ; And curst be the cause that shall part us ! The hour and the moment o' time ! Burns- DUNCAN GRAY. Duncan Gray cam here to wo,0) Ha, iia, the wooing o't, On biythe Yule night when we were fu*, Ha, ha, the wooing o*t. , 57 Maggie coost her head fu' hi^h, Look'd asklent and unco skeigh. Gart poor Duncan stand abeigri ; Ha, ha, the wooing o't. , Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd ; Ha, ha, &c. . Meg was deaf as AilsaOraig,* Ha, ha, &c. . Duncan sigh'd baith out and in, ^ Grat his een baith bleert and blin , Spak o' lowpin, ower a hnn ; Ha, ha, &c. Time and chance are but a tiue, Ha, ha, &c. Slighted love is sair to bide, Ha, ha, &c. Shall 1, like a fule, quoth he, For a haughty hizzie die 7 She may gae to— France tor mo ! Ha; ha, &c. How it comes let doctors tell, Ha, ha, &c. Meg grew sick— as ho grew heal, Ha, ha, &c. Something in her bosom wrings, For relief a sigh she brings ; And oh. her een they spak sic things ! Ha, ha, &c. Duncan was a lad o' grace^ Ha, ha, &c, Maggie's was a piteous case, Ha.ha, &c. Duncan could na be her deatn, Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath ; i^ow they're crouse and caniy baitn ; Ha, ha, &c. * A well-known lock in tho frith of Clyde. J, ' i I ■ I I 58 • OH! AN IRISHMAN'S HEART- Oh ! an Irishmans's heart is as stout as Shillelah, 117 1 ^^^ ^^.^" delifijht to chase sorrow and wo ; W hen the piper plays up, then ii dances so gaily, And thumps with a whack for to leather a foe. Kut hy beauty ht up, faith, in less than a jiffey, t«o warm IS the stufl, it soon blazes and burns ; 1 nen so wild is each heart of us, lads of the Liffey, It dances and beats altogether by turns. 1 hen away with dull care, let's be merry and frisky Uur motto is this, may it widely extend— ' rn!^lT''M''r ^r' H'^ (rcedom /.is sweeiheart and whisky^ ^ And he II die for old Ireland, his king, and his frie nd. SWid rulfian invaders e'er menace our shore, ^ • 1 tiougli the foes of dear Erin may strut and look big ; Yet, nabogh-a hsh* my lad, they shall have it galore, kor Patrick's the boy that can handle a twig. ±5ut the battle once over, no rage fills his breast, Mild mercy still softens the heart of the brave ; %h ^^h^^' °/Jl^''^' ^"'J of friendship possesse,— to niy berth will I hie, And like a cradled infant lie. I'm on the Sea— I'm on the Sea ! J am where I would never be ; With the smoke a' ove, and the steam below, And sickness whtiesoe'er 1 so ; If a storm should come no matter, I wot ; To the bottom I'd go— as soon as not. I love, oh ! how I love to ride In a neat post chaise, with a couple of bays, And a pretty girl by my side : But, oh ! to swing amidsiiire and foam. And be steam'd like a mealy potato at home ; And to feel that no soul cares more for your wo, Than the paddles that clatter as onward they go, The ocean's wave I ne'er moved o'er, But I loved my donkey more and more, And homeward flew to her bony back, Like a truant boy or a sandman's sack ; And a mother she was, and is, to me ; For I was — an ass — to go to sea ! The fields were green, and blue the morn, And still as a mouse the little house Where 1— where I was born; And my father whistled, my mother srniled, While my donkey bray'd in accents mild : Nor ever was heard such an outcry of joy Ji_a ivpjnrjTified to life the beautiful bov= * This parody on Barry Cornwall's song of " The Sea,', we have taken, from Fraser's Magazine, 111 m t'A III 72 Ihave lived, since then, in calm and strife, \ir-Jl!!^ peaceable donkey and termagant wife , vll « ^ ^P"r for the one, and a whip for the other: Yet ne er have wi.h'd to change witli another • And a Drovprh nf ni,j i«;ii i„ '^ \ «,i """r vvjfu u lo cnanerc witn another : Who IS born to be hang'd will not die on the sea »" anTJvi^nn rf ^"'^o'lS^fw written duiing the apprehension of rai ed in?r6r onJ^' "I volunteers to which it wa«Vddre."ed. w^ Lothian Ti^hfn,"**^'''^"' «•' *^« ^'ght Troop of the Royal Mid. ^IndDunda, „o-^^ Honourable Lieutenant rionTl mtJisurrnf „^ Melville. The noble and constitn- \ noviSZrl . .T'"^/'rr" i°.''«f«n<^e of fheir own right., w«» ".1 ^ forced? Van '""^'!} ^'l^"- 'P Kdinbursb, wlneh^urnisL r-iment of oLT. /""ei^^'^nd.di.-ciplined volunteers, ineludinR a tilim eachoJnS'^^^^^ the city and connty. and lieutenant constitn- ght(«, w«» fiirnishw eluding a rps of ar- ea, above exhorta- ? majores >Na 73 Though tamely crouch to Gallia's frown Dull Holland's tardy train ; Their ravish'd toys though Romans mourq ; Though gallant Switzers vainly spurn, And, foaming, gnaw the chain ; Oh ! had they mark'd the avenging call* Their brethern's murder gave, Disunion ne'er their ranks nad mown. Nor patriot valour, desperate grown, Sought freedom in the grave ! Shall we, too, bend the stubborn head, In freedom's temple born, Dress our pale cheek in timid smile, To hail a master in our isle, Or brook a victor's scorn 1 No ! though destruction o'er the lancj Come pouring as a flood, The sun, that sees our falling day, Shall mark our sabres' deadly sway, And set that night in blood. For gold let Gallia's legions, fight, Or plunder's bloody gain ; Unbribed, unbought. our swords we draw, To guard our king, to fence our law, Nor shall their edge be vain. If ever breath of British gale Shall fan the tricolor, Or footstep of invader rude, With rapine foul, and red with blood, Pollute our happy shore,— ♦ The allusion in to the massacre of the Swiss Gnards, on the fatal lOth Au£u«»"°"> '" '■acred ic, Marcli forward, one and all!* w. Scott. SONG, Bends %ht o%r';ie*hV?Z tSTe 'g?r^""^' CHORUS. 'sh"e hTsTittv^rSl^'J-^ f- her, In spor, we'll at.end her'^ntlflec Sd "ht-""'^ ' With heart and with hand, like our fathers before. Auhe glancfoThi"''"'*' '^'^f^ "^^'« ^nd disor.Ier ForaiounTrhem were"S°a?IM^^ The FlowerrofTSes, ,hi R„„7"'iV* ""= ^""^^ Then up wirh*.he bat"et Ac.^"'^"''""'- •JtL7-LTK'\Pr,"' .»:!'l> ""I'sic in Mr. G. TK ,. ^., place on DTCembcr^'Ti'it*',' U"'"'' °? "■'''<^'' " »-»« written imL' Shepherd.] '" "' '"^> ""'' '"^^ "I'" celebrated by the Etlri^k 75 A stripling's weak hand* to our revel has borne her, No mail-glove has grasp'd her, no spearmeri surround ; But ere a bold foeman should scathe or should scorn her, A thousand true hearts would be cold on the ground. Then up with the Banner, &c. We fori^et each conteniion of civil dissension, And hail, like our brethern, Home, Douglas, and Oar : And Eluot and Pringle in i)asfimc shall mingle, As welcome in peace as their fathers in war. Then up with the Banner, &c. Then strip, lads, and to it, though sharp be the weather, And if, by mischance you should happen to tall. There are worse things in Ufe than a tumble on heather, And life is itself but a game at foot-ball, Then up with the Banner, &c. And when it is over, we'll drink a blithe measure To each Laird and each Lady that witne^s'd our tun, And to every blithe heart that took part in our pleasure, To the lads that have lost and the lads that have won. Then up with the Banner, &.c. May the Forest still flourish, both Borough and Land- From the hall of the Peer to the Herd's ingle-nook ; And huzza ! my brave hearts, for BuCcleuch and his stan- For the King and the Country ,the Clan and the Duke ! Then up with the Banner, let forest winds fan her, She has blazed over Ettrick eight ages and more : In sport we'll aitcni her, in battle defend her, With heart and with hand, like our fathers before. W' Scott. J. , , • .1 - --1--J 1 - tl.ix Aiiflmr'a o1rl<>H>'' i«<"»n- HOW * fTiie beaiei oi xne suijiuiiiu naz viiv .•-.,.,..-■ • —-i j Lieut. Colonel :5ir Waltei Scott, I5th Hussars.] :i .».>!" kf. 7« I'LL LIVE A SINGLB LIFE. ^^wi,^^?"**^ ^^^^^« ^"J have men. VVhatever these should be, «Vr"^y they are getting old. When scarcely twenty-three. ^9" "eyer once reflect upon 1 he trials of a wife; For me, I'll pay my lovers off, And hve a single life ! I cannot think of Mr. Figg — 1 do not like the name; -^"JasforMr. Tickeler, A 1 te'^^ ^® fl^"*^h the same ! M Mr. t?ooW has grown so poor, A^rS'^'^-l"^^ keep a wife, ^ ' im .• '■• ^^^P^y 'ooks so sour^ 1 II live a jingle life I 1 see some Jadies who were once The gay belles of the town, hough but a short year married, A liSr^^^'^ *° ^ace and gown. And Mr Gentle mdehscoI% His little loving wife ; PM T?"" ^°^^' has grown so coW— 1 II live a single life ! There's Mr. Home is always out 1 111 twelve o'clock at night : And Mr. Smart is duUsind black. bince married to Miss IVhite. And Mr WrMt has all gone wrong, And beats his loving wiTe ;- ^' 7,5>«'d not have such men, i trotv- I'll live a single life! Miss Evans looks so very odd. Miss ZtWZtf ioolcs so ve^'broad Beside her Mr. Lan^. ra 77 IWisg Hartley looks B' \ear '.'ij5 now Since Mr- Wishati ; wi.'e, Mi« /?o*e has lurn'd ^ /t/ -pale— , I'll live a single lite! There's Mr. Foot lie" ' ^v'M "^c ol^ To give him my fa! /".^u^ ; A nd Mr. Crabbe has sought me too. And so has Mr. Bland; And Mr. Young and Mr. ^ ^id Have asked me for iheir wife; But I've denied tnem every one— Pljlive a single life! So, ladies who are single yet Take heed to what 1 say ; Nor cast your caps, and take the pet, As thoughtless maidens may : Remember 'lis no common task To prove a prudent wife ; For me, no one my hand need ask — I'll li^^e a single life ! Andrew Park. MINISTER T AM ! Oh ! ken ye his reverencp, Minister Tam ? Oh ! ken ye his reverence, Minister Tam 7 Wi' a head like a hog, an' a look lik a ram— Ar' these are the marks o' Minister Tatti. Oh ! Minister T'-.m's mistaen his trade— The parish beadle he should hae been made ; The tintra clash i' the manse to te", To summon the Session, an' ring the bell I He's gotten a kirk, but he's preach'd it toom I He ca's, examines, bilt nane will come ; His eider bodies they daurna spjeak— He's makin' an' breakin' them ilka week 1 m ts 78 There's aye some will-o'-the wisp in his now, 1 hat keeps the couiH.y side in a lowe ; 1 here 1 never be peace, an' that ye'il hoar tell 1 111 he hang as heigh as the parish bell ! Alex^ Laing, Brechin. THE MOON SHONE CALMLY BRIGHT. The moon shone calmly bright Upon the slumb'ring scene, 1 en thousand stars shone out that night, Aroundtheir placid queen; A ship hath left the shore.- 17 }u^? ^^^^^' ^^^^ good ship be, lirehll the moon one bright horn more t— JJeep— aeep in the booming sea. *' Hark !— heard ye not, but now, A wild unearthly cry." They ask with troubled breast and brow n ^ startled car and eye— Was't the water- spirit's shriek 'f W hat may that boding be 7" And a moment blanch 'd the brownest check, yJn the deep and booming sea. " What fear?— the breeze to-night Can scarce a ripple wake, And slow moves our ship with her wings of white Like a swan o'er a moonlit lake '*' Ah ! httle dreamt they then The Chan re so soon to be, And arose the songs of jovial men On the deep and booming sea! 'Tis morn— but such a morn J^^ay bark ne'er brave again, 1 hrough vaulting billows— tempost-torn, 1 oils the reeling ship in vain ! 79 The waves are hushed and blue, But where — oh ! where is she, The good ship with her gallant crew ! Deep— down in the booming sea ! , , John Imlah O FOLLOW EERNOT! O FOLLOW her not ! O follow her not ! Though she lure thee with smile and song ; Fair is her cheek, but her heart is black, And the poison of death's on her tongue ; She'll leave on thy innocence many a blot— Then follow her not ! O follow her not ! * Some call her Pleasure and some call her Sin, Some call her a Lady gay, For her step is light, and her eye is bright, And she carols a blithsome lay. *' Away to the bower where care is forgot!" But follow her not I O follow her not ! Though her steps invite, though her eye burn bright, Though green be the leaves in her bower, Yet that step is false as a meteor-light, And that eye hath the rattle-snake's power. Her bower ! O wild and unblessed is the spot — Then follow her not! O follow her not ! Will. Kennedy. WE TWli^JED OUR HEARTS IN ANE. We twined our lovin' hearts in aoe, V the spring-time o'the year. When the rejoicing earth seemed vain ( > her braw bridal gear. When larks aboon the brairdin' rig Their warm leal loves were tellin.' Our hearts, like theirs, wi' pif asurc big, Were proudly, fondly swcllin'. ,-'ff A 1 80 We twined our lovin' hearts in ane-^ ^ Alas ! for Fate's decree — ^"^the green spring came back again, Wide sindered hearts had we^ When next the lark aboon the braird His sang was sweetly pourin', Between our hearts, sae lately pair'd, 1 ne billows big were roarin'. •A^^^ere the braird had grown to grain, . 1 he lark had flown the lea, Beneath the cauld and cruel main Lay a' was dear to me. • And, oh ! I wish the briny wave That rows aboon my lover, Would take me lo his deep, deep grave My lanely heart to cover. ' W^' Pei-p^uson. THE WARRIOR'S HOJME. Shall the warrior rest When his battles are o'er?— When his country's oppress'd By the tyrant no more 1 Yes, yes to the arms of affection he'll come • 1 he voice of the cannon, nor bugle, nor drum, fehall again rouse the warrior— The noble o!d warrior, He'll proudly enjoy the calm blessings of home ! On each gay festive night When his gallants sit round. And the soft eye of light In fair woman is found ! hen, then shall he tell of his feats on the plain. And m fancy lead on his bright armies again ! This will cheer the old warrior, The noble old warrior,— Yet he W weep for the brave who in battle were slain ! 81 He shall throw down his shield, * And ungird his bright blade, That flash'd in the field When the onset was made — Up nt<>\\ hang up his helmet, and lay himself down, W ii^ le love and affection ne'er veil'd in a frown ! Then rest thee, old warrior ! — Thou noble old warrior The praise of an empire take, take-'tis thine own .' Andrew Park. HUNTING SONG. «' I never yet own'd a horse or hound, I never was lord of a foot of ground ; Yet few are richer, 1 will be bound, Than me of a hunting morning. " I'm far better off nor him that pays, For though I've no money, 1 live at my ease, With hunting and shooting whenever I please, And a tally-high-ho in the morning. " As I go on foot, 1 don't lose my sate, As I take the gaps, I don't break a gate ; And if I'm not first, why Pm seldom late, "W ith my tally-high-ho in the morning. " And there's not a man, be he high or low. In Cie parts down here, or wherever you go, That doesn't like poor Tippe/ary Joe, With his tally-high-ho in th^ laorning. Liter. m THF ^OPE. I. The Pop :, he leads a happy life, He feard r i^ marrnd care, nor strife. He dnnk' Xhb bfst of Rhenish wine, I would ii.e Pot i's gay lot wen; mm«* M % •- 82 1 1 CHORUS. ?® "^'f^K^ t^e best of Rhenish T-;ine, 1 would the Pope's gay lot were mine'. II • gut then all happy's not his life, M*' VIY'u '"^^^^ "O'" dooming wife ; Nor child has he to raise his hSpe-- i would not wish to be the Pope. III. The Sultan better pleases me, His IS a life of jollity ; His wives are many as he will- 1 would the Sultan'^s throne then fill. IV. But even he's a wretched man, He must obey his Alcoran ; And dares not drink one drop of wine- 1 would not change his lot lor mine. V. So then I'll hold my lowly stand. And Jive m German Vaterland: 1 Jl kijs my maiden fair and fine, And drink the best of Rhenish vine. VI. Whene'er my maiden kisses me. A * , ^"J^ ^^^^ ^ t^e Sultan be: And when my cheery glass I tope, I'll fancy that 1 am the Pope. Lever, r.u, THE YOUNG CUIRASSIER. Oh lady, look forth from thy bower. And hst to the trumpet's loud swell, Thi » "T*^/^ l"" ^^'^ ^«"e silent hour 1 m wail of a lover '» farewell ;— S3 igo from the light of thy smile, love, To the blood-crimson'd warfield's of Spain, And a strange dreamy voice all the while, love, Says 1 never shall see thee again. And here is thine own true-love token, As bright as my raoonsilver'd crest, The pledge of a faith never broken 'Tis clasp'd to this mail-cover'd breast j-— Thy fair hands in fondness entwined it From the plume waving now to thee, here, And a prayer from thy pure heart hath shrined it Over that of thine own Cuirassier. Thro' my corslet of steel, hark ! how loudly My heart wildly beats to be free, And the eyes which on others bend proudly In tears look their last gaze on thee :— Again to the night breeze is given The war note which sounds forth my knell, I part— but to meet thee in heaven, God shield thee ! my true love, farewell ! And swiftly thro' peril and danger The young soldier spurr'd his bold steed, From his home to the land of the stranger— From his true-love to combat and bleed ;— And still to that loved one he cherished Bis taith, in a brighten'd career To the red field of strife Where he perish'd, The young and the brave Cuirassier. J. H> Willis, Quebec. HUNTING SONG.* Waken, lords and ladies gay, On the mountain dawns the day. All the jolly ohrs e is here. With hawk, and horse, and h unting- spear ! I • [First puHisited in the Kdinburgh Annual Register of 1808,— and set to a Welsh ait In " Thompson's Select Melodiett*' yoU lii. I8ir.] ii 84, i Hounds are in their couples yellino-, Hawks are whistling, horns are kndJinff, JWerri y, merrily, mingle they, ^ W aken, lords and ladies gay." Waken lords and ladies gay, The mist has left the mountain grey, bpringlets m the dawn are streaming, JJiamonds on the brake are gleaming • And foresters have busy been, 1 o track the buck in thickest green: £^ow we come to chant our lay, Waken lords and ladies gay.'* \ Waken, lords and ladies gay, To the green-wood haste away ; We can show you where he lies, I leet of foot, and tall of size ; We can show the marks he made, When gainst the oak his antlers fray'd ■ *o" shall see him brought to bay. ' Waken, lords and ladies gay.^ Louder, louder chant the lay, Waken, lords and ladies gay ! Tell them youth, and mirth and glee, xiun a course as well as we ; Time, stern huntsman ! who can baulk, ^tanch as hound, and fleet as hawk : i hmk of this, and rise with day, larentle lords and ladies gay Sir Walter Scott. THE BOLD DRAGOON;* TwAS a Marechal of France, and he fain would honour gam, '^^^^^iszz'^XXi^T '"'"° "'''*'^"' ^"""'^ '^ 85 And he long'd to take a passing glance at Portugal from Spain ; With his flying guns this gallant gay, And boasted corps d'armee — O he fear'd not our dragoons, with their long swords, boldly riding, Whack, fal deral, &c. To Campo Mayor come, he had quietly sat down. Just a fricassee to pick, while his boldiers sack'd the town, When, 'twas peste I morbleu! mon General, Hear the English bugle call ! And behold the light dragoons, with their long swords, bold- ly riding, Whack, fal deral, &c. Right about went horse and foot, artillery and all, And as the devil leaves a house they tumbled through the wall;* They took no time to seek the door, But best foot set before — O they ran from our dragoons, with their long swords, bold- ly riding, Whack, fal de ral, &c. Those valiant men of France, they had scarcely fled a mile, When on their flank there sous'd at once the British rank and file ; For Long, De Grey, and Otway, then Ne'er minded one to ten, But came on like light dragoons, with their long swords, bold- ly riding. Whack, fal de ral, &c. Three hundred Brittish lads they made three thousand reel. Their hearts were made of English oak, their swords of Sheffield steel, Their horses were in Yorkshire bred, And Beresford them led ; • In their hasty evacuation of Campo Mayor, the French pulled down » pgiit of the rampart, and marched out over the glacis^ » ■ mW !ii n 'I ■I } I S6 ^ So huzza for Jjravc dragoons, with their long swords, boldly Whack, Si deral,&c. Then here's a health to Wellington, to Beresford, to Long, And a single word of Bonaparte before I close my son- The eagles that to fight he brings ° ' -__. Should serve his men with wings, When they meet the bold dragoons, with their long swords boldhr riding, ^ ' Whack.falderal, &c. Sir Walter Scott. SONG. Oh^ say not, my love, with that mortified air. lliat your spring-time of pleasure is flown, IS or bid me to maids that are younger repair, 1* or those raptures that still are thine own. Though April his temples may wreath with the vine, its tendrils m infancy curl'd, ' ^Tis the ardour of August matures us the wine, W nose life blood enlivens the world. ^ Though thy form, that was fashioned as light as a fky's Has assumed a proportion more round, ^ * And thy glance, that was bright as a falcon's at gaze. Looks soberly now on the ground,— Enough, after absence to meet me again, Thy steps still with ecstacy move • Enough, that those dear sober glances retain t or me the kind language of love. Sir Walter Scotti. LINES TO MR. HODGSON. WEITTEN ON BOARD THE LISBON PACKET. Huzza I Hodgson, we are going. Our embargo »s off at last : * avourable breezes blowing Bead the canvass o'er the majst. I»> 87 From aloft the signal's streaming. Hark I the farewell gun is fired ; Women screeching, tars blaspheming. Tell us that our time's expired. Here's a rascal Come to task all, Prying from the customi* house ; Trunks unpacking, CaseS'Cracking, Not a corner for a mouse 'Scapes unsearch'd amid the racket, Ere we sail on board the Packet. ,Now our boatmen quit their mooring, And all hands must ply the oar ; Baggage from the quay is lowering, We're impatient — push from shore* •*' Have a care 1 that case holds liquor Stop the boat — I'm sick— oh Lord I •*• Sick, ma'am, damme, you'll be »icker Ere you've l)een an hour on board." Thus are screaming Men and women, Gemmen, ladies, servants^ Jacks ; Here entangling, All are wrangling, Stuck together close as wax* — Such the general noise and racket, Ere we reach the Lisbon Paket. jNow we've reach' d her, lo^ the captain. Gallant Kidd, commands the crew ; Passengers their berths ate ciapt in, Some to grumble, some to spew. **' Heyday ! call you that a cabin % Why 't is hardy three feet square ; I^ot enough to stow Q,ueen Mab in— Who the deuce can harbour there ?** " Who, sir*? plenty — Nobles twenty Did At once mj vessel fill." M ¥• i ' '•< N 88 "Did they ?J-HS, How you squeeze us ! Would to God they did so still : Then I'd scapo the heat and racket Of the good ship, Lisbon Packet." Fletcher ! Murray ! Bob ! ♦ where are you ? Stretch'd along the deck like logs- Bear a hand, you jolly tar. you f Here's a rope's end for the dogs. Hobhouse muttering fearful curses, As the hatchway down he rolls, Now his breakfast, now his verses, Vomits forth— and damns our souls. " Here's a stanza On Braganza — Help !"-«' A couplet ?"-No, a cup Of warm water — " "What's the matter?" " Zounds f mj liver^? coming up t I shall not survive thr racket Of this brutal Lisboi Packet.'* Now at length we're off for Turkey, Lord knows when we shall come back ^ Breezes foul and tempests murky May unship us in a crack- But, since life at most a jest is, As philosophers allow, Still to laugh by far the best is, Then laugh on— as 1 do now. Laugh at all things. Great and small things. Sick or well, at sea or shore j • Lord Byron'» thiee •ervant*. * la Byron i it with trans p( Mas aa 89 While we're quaffing, Let's have laughing— Who the devil cares tor more {-- Some good wine ! and jvhowould lack it, Ev'a on board the Lisbon Packet '? ♦ ^^^^^^ MY BOAT IS ON THE SHORE- I. My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea ; But before 1 go. Tom Moore, Here'sadouble health to thee! Here's a sigh to those wi.o love me, And a smile to those who hate; And whatever sky's above me, Here's a heart for every fate- III. Thoueh the ocean roar around me. Yet it still shall bear me on ; Though a desert should 8«««""f^°^«' It hath springs that may be won. IV. Wer't the last drop in the well, As 1 gasp'd upon the brink. Ere my fainting spirit fell, 'Tis tothee that I would drink. With that waterj as this wme, ^Ind a heSth to thee, Tom Moorc^^ _^ ~' , • 1. iu -» n«oiv veT.es weiti anclosed, Lord ♦ Itt the letter in which these ^^l^ly'^^^^Ji^i .hall return to Byron say« :-" I leave ^^n| andjU^^^^^^^^^ it without pleasure I am li''® ^^''^^^ , ^g eaten no apple but what ' '" 'H JtTifv^HBM'l'yH \H^. \^ \\^^. JMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^^y \Ay fe 1.0 I.I 11.25 lit g^ "2.5 2.2 1.8 i-4 ||||h.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, .!.Y. 14530 (716) 872-4503 ^ 4? \ iV :\ \ f^\ ^j% c,\ •<.. <1> ^& i/l t 90 so, WE'LL GO NO MORE A ROVING. I. So,we'Jl^onomorearoviog So late into the niffht, ^ A nf f h^ ^^^'\ ^^ «^"' ^« Moving, And the moon be silll as bright? II. A mWh^'''^ outwears its sheath, And thi h '^?^^«a^s o«^t the breast, A n ni''''-J* ?r\'^ P^"«« to breathe And love Itself have rest. A J?f ^'u^l "^^^' was made for loving. Yef vpii'^'^'"^^^''"«'««soon, ^' R^?J^ i^^i."^ "^°'e a roving ^Jthehghtofthemoon. , Byron* STANZAS FOR MUSIC. "^ Whh « f!,? • ^^,^«r y'^- daughters vy ith a ma^ic like thee ; u}^^ "^usic on the waters •I\'.. fh' ^' '^ V^ ®°""^ were causing Te charmed ocean's pausing, ^ And the lull'd winds seem dreaSing: ^H '^K P^nigfat moon is weaving' Her bright cEain o'er the deepf Whose breast is gently heaving. ' As an infant's asleeb: ^' feo the spirit bows before thee, lo listen and adore thee ; With a full but soft emotion. Like the swell of Summer's ocean. 01 I Tt ] M A S Byron* ^r^f 91 THE SONG OP THE SLAVE. O England ! dear home of the lovely and true Loved land of the brave and the free, Though distant— though wayward— the path 1 pursue My thoughts shall ne'er wander from thee. Deep, in my heart's core, Rests the print of ihy shore, From a die whose impression fades never ; And the motto impress'd, By this die, on my breast, "England, dear England, for ever.' May blessings rest on thee for ever ! As aueen, she sits throned with her sceptre of light, Alotl on the white-crested wave; While billows surround her, as guards of her rigm To an island where breathes not a slave. And her sceptre of light Shall,throLgh regions of night, Shed a radiance like darts from day s quiver, Till the unfetter'd slaves. To the aueen of the Waves, Shout " Freedom and England for ever, May blessings rest on thee for ever ! How often hath Fame, with his trumpets loud blast, Praised the crimes of mock- heroes in war. Whose joy was to revel o'er nations laid waste, And drag the fallen foe at their car I But a new law, from heaven. Hath by England been given To Fame—and from which she'll ne'er sever,— " No hero but he Who saves and sets free, Saith England, free England, for ever, May blessings rest on thee for ever I J, D* Carrick* i I' \Xi !•' kill f>m 92 COME, A SONG-A GLAD SOJ^G &atete,iif/-'P^ai-^ should be Let the proud echoes swpII si^f ''T^ *"'' "^« *««• TheyreVe .Uartiaattes'Sr^' ^i»gr on, happy hearts I and if Jove be fh^ f h^m. Say " iove's s^eetes.tel ttlfa ro'lS^g'^r/!?"'- R^fh""' """y ''*'"■'« ■' a"d if auld mother w.> TiliyourLrtfo^4^r!fX\^et^?„';t;';'„^; il/fl:r. MacLaggan, Edinburgh. SCOTLAND'S GUI D AULD CHANEL STANE.* Of a' the games that e'er I saw, Man, callant, laddie, birkie, wean. The bravest far aboon them a', ' Was aye the witching Channel Stane ' * Another name for the Curling Stone. Whare 1 trow t! If they I Gi'e thei Could t To lea'e The sra; That sti *'►,! J . «» I J.IHH I I|U I«P?»PPI "n; with delight, ifli, ) strong:, >g? be le free, lins among, 3f song I le, •earn, re wrong, 5ong " » ^ould hit, ne, yne, lime; our prime, ong, ong. '^ delight, Irons:, Tfgh, 93 O for the Channel Stane I The fell gude game, the Channel Stane There's no a game amang them a' Can match auld Scotland's Channel Stane ! I've played at qi oiting i' my day, ._nd maybe 1 may To't again, But still unto mysel* I'd say, O this is no the Channel Stane ! O for, &c. I've been at bridals unca glad ; In courting lassies wondrous fain ; But what was a' the fun I've had, Comparit wi* the Channel Stane ! O for, &c. "Were 1 a sprite in yonder sky. Never to come back again, Pd sweep the muna an' starlits by, And beat ihem at the Channel Stane- O for, &c. We'd boom across the Milkv Way, . One tee should be the i>Iothern Warn, Another bright Orion's ray, A comet for a Channel Stane ! O for, «&c ;l|.-- James Hogg* MATHEW M'FARLANE, THE KILBARCHAN RECRUIT- Whare cam' the guineas frae, Mathew, my dear 1 1 trow thou had nane till the sodgers cam here ; If they be the king's or the sergeant's my son, Gi'e them back, for thou never maun carry the gun. Could thou e'er think to gang o'er the braid sea, Tolea'e the loan-head, the auld bigging, and me , The smith and the smiddy, thy loom, and the lass That stands at the gavie and laughs when ye pass i C ti' Mind, Mathew ! for thou likes thy belly fu' weel There is naethmg abroad like obr hearty aUtaeal Nor guid sheep.head;kail, for nae outland^ortian Has the gumption to ken that they need sic a scummfn^ ^aI^I ^"i?' f ^?' ^H ^^y Highland sergeant may blaw And talk o' the ferlies he's seen far awl ^ ' fti^il *" pleasures and ease o' a sodgering life. Believe me, its naething but labour and strife ! Th^L^^if-^"''^^ ^"* '^iP ^« ^^e midst o' the drilling The ranking and rawing, and marching and whefline The sergeam would cry,- Shoot the stWeLg W^V' or " Tie the scoonerel up to the halberds, ye scoonerels !" WiMhhro''''' ^'".? ^u^^^'f « *° ^^« ^ars wad be prancing W ' ih. ^''^^ ^1 1'" ^^^^' a'^*^ ^i3 sceptre a' glandn^ ^' Wi chariots, and horsemen, and cornels AtSt^ih^^ And Sergeant .-^'Tavish as proud as ?hebes^o^hem7' My son, and the rest o* the puir sinffle men wnnl,! h« I^udging behint them wi' t^heirleg! twInfnrS ' Ttll .hi';^^ ^^T''' ^^^ ^""^i"& iike colly dogs, ^ ' Till the Frenchmen m swarms wad come bilert about their Then to meet Bonaparte rampaging and red To the verra e^n^holes wi' IhelpiRing o' bhid » O, maybe the fiend in his talons wad claught h' > And rive thee to spawls without speering rhase aught thee t Nnr°S^^"'^"^ wear claes o' red, Mathew M'Farlane » ^or nnge wi' twa sticks on a sheep's-skin, mv darlin' » Nor cadge wi' a knapsack frae Dan to BeerSieba nor Dee like thy father at wearifu' Baltimore l' ' Bide still in Kilbarchan ! and wha kens biit thou May be some day an elder, and keep a bit coW And ha'e for thy wife the braw through it S lass That stands at tie gaVie ami laughiJ when ye paw. But if It's ae Whae Willt ill •f s 'ortian lznmin^ 7 blaw, eelmg, g looft !'» or jrels !" prancing, mciiig, o' them, :hejEn ; I be irily ; about their ught thee I me! rlin' ! ) nor 95 But if thou mautt sodger, and vex thy pui^ mither. It's ae comfort to me, should I ne'er ha'e anither, Whaever may shoot thee, their prey when they mak' O' thec, Will e'en get a gude linen sark on the back o* thee ! Wm, Cro$8' THE CURLERS' GARLAND. Curlers, gae harae to your spades, or your ploughs, To your beuks, to your planes, or your thummills Curlsrs, gae hame, or the ice ye' 11 fa' thro' ; Hame, swith ! to yoUr elshins, or wummills. The curlin's owre, for the thow is come ; On Misiilaw the snaw is meliin', His hetherie haffets kythe black in the win', And the rain has begun a-peltin'. A lang fareweel to greens and beef, To yill, to whisky, and bakes : ^ Fu' o' cracks is the ice, but we'll smuir our dule By gorblin' up parritch and cakes. We'll nae mair think o' the slithery rink, Nor the merry soun " Tee high,'' Nor " Inwick here," " Break an egg there, ' Nor " He's far owre stark, soop him bye. We maunna think o' the slithery rink, Nor of hurras a volley ; The ice is dauchie, nae fun can we get, For ilka stane lies a collie. Nor roar " Besoms up, he's a capital shot ;" " Nor Jock, lie here, I say ;" «* He's weel laid on, soop him up, soop him up." «' Now guard him, and won is the day/' But we trow when winter comes again, i Wi' a' its frosts and snaws, We'll on the ice ance mair forgether< Before life's gloamia' close. i-t» 96 -Curlers, gae hame to your spades or vour nlon„»,- Tak' your ell wands, your Lhins, or Zm^,„. a conspicuous bill in the neigCrhood. """'"«• *""*'««' <» HALKERTON'S CALF. A n>'i'»,*^''y """""' '« Halkerton's cow Ne'er heard o' aSr^JtSaltfe^'if '''«'' JN'e'er heard, &c. I!i'?heti^fj;risXi°o''!Ei'f^'''''''''^^''«~'^' An' the stack h5 been ele,I .* th'"''"'* •"• f '"'"''' The mark o' the clo™^ ftmells t' theThlff'"" '"'"''• The mark, &c. This t"nderfu'i*cK/l!''' ''"' "?""'' '^^^h. Has scripturrby heart "'.V"* ^\^8 *P«««^; An' fechts, &c. "BoSltenes '|?Sii« "H'V»' *« cracks. At Wythemeat!'an" dred^' l" ," WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE Woodman, spare that tree 1 T(>£iehi?ota;sini,lpboash! In v^a'^hnt sfiGlterod m<), ' ; AiuM^llprot^ect, H now. , ' Twas my forefather's hand Tllat placed itnmr hi3'e.ot*; There,'w:)cM;\^ l6t it stdiid, Thyaxfe&halt harm it not I 100 That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea, •Mr "i moulds! thou hack it down ^ Woodman, forbear thy stroke ' Cut not its carth*bound ties : Uh, spare that aged oak, JNow towering to the skies ! When but an idle boy Isoughtitsgratefuf shade : In all their gushing joy, Here too my sif,ters played. My mother kissM me here; My father pressed my hand- Forgive this foolish tear, But let that old oak stand ! My heart-strings round thee chnff Close as thy bark, old friend ' Mere shall the wild- bird sing. An J still thy branches bend. Old tree ! the storm still brave ' And, woodman, leave the spot ; While I've a hand to save. Thy axe shall harm it not. ^ * • THE INDIAN'S FAREWELL TO SIR ALEXANDER MACKENZIE. Fare thee well, nay friend and father ' 5fe^^*^.-^^''f^'^^'^'J''^-^ver' , lh|nfc O ! I'hml^ DA ,Qii^ai j. He who shared thine.P.ver^ dan^er- i5aw thije conguer.'fiaodaW^foe— ^ X«thiWe utmost, dying, throl :fkM 101 Mav the spirit of the water Gfuide in joy thy good canoe , And each blessing round thee scatter Till thy father-land thou view. May the spirit of the wild wood Guard secure ihy homeward track, Till the mountains of thy childhood Ring with joy to hail thee baok. And, when round thy native dwelling White-men gather in the vale ; Or when maiden's hearts are sweUing To ihy wild and wondrous tale : Tell them that the Red mm never Shall disturb the axe of f^trlte ; Nor his spear, his bow and quiver, Urge in conflict at their hie ; "While, like thine, each stranger's story Shall rehearse no foeman s vvoes ; And, while treading paths of glory, Nought but deeds of peace disclose. Fare thee well, my friend and father ! Go in peace thy far, far way : Take this calumet, and ever Think, O 1 think, on poor Omai ! D. ChisJwlme. BAD LUCK TO THIS MARCHING. Bad luck to this marching, Pipe-claying and starching; p-^nch How neat one must be >o be killed by the b rencli I'm sick of parading Through wet and cowld wading, Or standing all night to be shot in a trench. To the tuneofatite, Thej dispose of your life. nsi 102 You sun^ender your soul to some iliigant lilt, ^o\v 1 like Garryowcn, ' R„f ;./ ^^? \}^^^^ ^^ at home. But It W half so sweet when you're going to be kUu 1 hen though up late and early, Thn ^ '^ P?y ^^nies so rarely, The devil a farthing we've ever to spare ; They say some disaster, ^ ' -oetel the paymaster : Whilpfhf n ^ won't let us plunder, ' Like a sailor that's nigh land. 1 long for that island A\ here even the kisses we steal if we please ■ Where ,t IS no disgrace, ^P'*^^«^' ^^you don't wash vourfarp And yWve nothing .o doZ'irs^nd at yourense And thmk twice ere I'd kavi it to be a drag, ?oon ! MARY DRAPER.* BoN'T talk to me of London dames. ¥^' ^^///boutyour foreign flamS 1^ Oi shone, excep t on paper j * Taken,^ ,vith pcmi.sion, from (Ji^^^i^^^Hey, tie Iri.h D^. L»e kiit. icre. ixr; ^e. Dra. 103 r II sinff you 'bout a girl I know, Who lived in Bally whacmacrew, And. let me tell you, mighty few Could equal Mary Draper. Her cheeks were red, her eyes were blue. Hpr hair was brown, of deepest nue, Her toot was small, and neat to view, Her waist was slight and taper ; Her voice was music to your ear, A lovely brogue, so ricli and c ear ; Oh, the like I ne'er again shall hear As from sweet Mary Draper. She'd ride a wall, she'd drive a team, Or with a fly she'd whip a stream ^, Or maybe sing you " Rousseau's Dream, For nothing could escape tier : Fve seen her too— upon my word-- At sixty yards bring dowri her bird , Oh • she charmed ail the Forty-third . Did lovely Mary Draper, And at the spring assizes ball The junior bar would, one and all, For all hot fav'rite dances call, And Harry Deane would caper ; Lord Clare vJ-ould then forget his lore, King's Counsel, voting law a bore, Were proud to figure on the floor, For love of Mary Draper. The parson, priest, subsheriff too. Were all her slaves, and so would you, Ifyouhad only but one view Of such a face and shape, or ^ Her pretty ancles -but, ohone . T.'cnnlr^vfistofold Athlone . , Such'girls are found-and now Iheyregone^ So here's to Mary Draper. 104. THE HARP THAT ONCE THROUGH TAR A'S HALLS. The harp that once through Tara's halls 1 he soul of music shed, Now hangs as mule on Tara's walls^ As if that soul Were fled. — So sleeps the pride of former days. So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts, that once beat high for praise, JNow feel that pulse no more ! No more to chiefs and ladies bright The harp of Tara swells ; The chord alone, that breaks at ni^ht Its tale of ruin tells. Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes, 1 he only throb she gives. is when some heart indignant breaks, 1 show that still she lives ! FLV not YET. Ply not yet, 'tis just the hour. When pleasure, like the midnight flower 1 hat scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sons of night, ,rJ^^^^ ffiaids who love the moon, Twas but to bless these hours of shade 1 hat heauty and the moon were made 5 1 is then their soft attractions glowing bet the tides and goblets flowing;. Oh ! sfay.-Oh ! stay,— Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this to-night, that oh ! 'tis paiia 1 o break Us links so soon. 105 T71v not vet, the fount that play'd I^timeVof old through Ammon's shade.* Though icy cold by day it ran, Yet still, like souls of mirth, began To burn when night was near ; , And thus should wVan's heart and looks At noon bo cold as winter brooks, Nor kindle till the n^ht, returning. Brings their genial hour for burniug. Oh ! stay,— Oh ! stay,— When did morning ever breaK, And find such beaming eyes awake As those that sparkle here ; LESBIA HAThTbEAMING EYE. Lesbu hath a beaming eye, , ^^p^h • B. t. no one knows for whom it beametn , Ri«Tht and left its arrows ny, But what they aim at no one dreamelh. ^wppter 'lis to gaze upon My Nora's lid that seldom rises ; Few its looks, blit every one. Like unexpected light, surprises ! Oh, my Nora Creina, dear 1 My "gentle, bashful Nora Creina ! Beauty lies In many eyes, But Love in yours, my Nora Creina ! Lesbia wears a robe of gold, But all so close the nymph bath lac d it Not a charm of beauty's mould Presumes to stay where nature plac d it- Oh t mv Nora's gown for me, TCtVoats a. lud as mountain breezes, Leaving tverybfj}f„y free , i o siuiv ui avTvi- « ~1" ___J — '» SoliTlvc^^n^aTt^ of Ammon. * I . tl ■ i ■ Hip '$. ■•i« : i'\ m li 106 Yes. my Nora Crrin^i dparf % Simple, .raeeful J^oal fe L. - fiidure'a dress rp, Is ioveliness— iiie dress yoz. wear, myJXonA Creina. l^EsBiAhathaxvitrefin'd. rp. Hath not the^ Jie-'ht That warms your eyes, my^a^ cre.v.. _ Moore, ^"''''"«e=r„^eVff"'^''^ bovvers. Oh ifK • ^"''spirits to sink- ■out, thouerh 'tvvprp thn lo^f r**i "^^^' ^^ stay : w*ifi'"Rf?;i,?.,"'."v»"'<.<^n for a"fe;rir;:::ir:7r-r— tmrn^^^^S^: 107 Contempt on the minion, who calls you disloyal ! Tho' fierce to your foe, to your friends you are true ; And the tribute most hi^h to a head that is royal, Is love from a heart that loves liberty too. While cov^rards, who blight Your fame; your right, Would shrink from the blaze of the battle array, The Standard of Green In front would be seen— Oh! my life on your faith! were you summoned this minute, You'd cast every bitter remembrance away. And show what the arm of old Erin has m it. When rous'd by the foe, on her Prince's Day. He loves the Green Isle, and his love is recorded In hearts, which have suffered too much to forcet ; And hope shall becrown'd. and attachnient rewarded, And Erin's gay jubilee shine out yet ! The gem may be broke By many a stroke, But nothing can cloud its native ray } Each fragment will cast A light, to the last!— , , ^. . And thus, Erin, ray country ! tho' broken thou art, There's a lustre within thee, that ne'er will decay ; A spirit, which beams through each suffering part, ^ And now smiles at their pain, on the Prince s xJny . Moore- r I I OH THE SHAMROCK. Through Erin's Isle, To sport awhile, AsLovE and Valodr wander'd With "Wit, the sprite, "Whose quiver bright A thouisand arrows squander'd ; '"""•Hrw^iPii li 108 Where'er they pass, ii triple grass* Shootsua with dewHirops streaming, ' As softly green ^' As emeralds seen Old Erin's native Shamroci^' Says Valour, '^ See, "Thncoi V^y spring for me, 1 hose leafy gems of morning ' "— Says Love, ''JYo, no; « iM ^ -^^ °' ^^^ t^ey grow. iwy fragrant path adorning '" ^ut Wit perceives, A«i . -^^e triple leaves And cries, ^' Oh ! do not sever ,, ;?;^^^Pe. !' - " Ah, no !the last pang of my bo.om is heaving 1 No light of the morn shall to Henry return ! *' Thou charmer of life, ever tender and true ! Ye babes of my love, that await me atar I — His foultering tongue scarce could murmur adieu, Wiien he sunk in her arms-the poor wounded Hussar Campbell' rr SONG. TO THE EVENING STAR* Star that bringest home the bee, And sett'st the weary labourer free If any star shed peace, 'tis thou, That send'st it from above. Appearing when heaven's breath and brow Are sweet as hers we love. H 114 Come to the luxuriant skies, Whilst the landscape's odours rise, Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard, And songs, when toil is done, From cottages whose smoke unstirred Curls yellow in the sun. Star of love's soft interviews, P?- cd lovers on thee muse , Their remembrancer in heaven Of thrilling vows thou art, Too delicious to be riven By absence from the heart. Cainpb ell' SONG. Oh, how hard it is to find The one just suited to our mind I And if that one should be False, unkind, or found too late, What can we do but sigh at fate, And sing Wo's me— Wo's me ! Love's a boundless burning waste, Where Bliss's stream we seldom taste, And still more seldom flee Suspense's thorns Suspicion's stings ; Yet somehow Love a something brings That's sweet-even when we sigh " Wo's me !" Camphdt* 1 SONG. When Love came first to Earth, the Spring Spread rose beds to receive him. Ami back he vow'd his flight he'd'wing To htav^jn, if she should leave him. ■** .' 115 But Spring departing, saw his faith Pledged to the next new comer- He rcvell'd in the warmer breath And richer bowers ot Summer- Then Sportive Autumn claim'd by rights An Archer for her lover, And even in Winter's dark, cold nights A charm he could discover. Her routs and balls, and fireside joy, For this time were his reasons— In short, Young Love's a gallant boy, That likes all times and seasons. Campbell- SONG. To Love in my heart. I excla^^^^^^^^^^ Thou hast dwelt here ^^^ ^^l^^r"^^^^^ sober duty, Thou Shalt tempt me no ."^^J^^'l^jy "Jyes of beauty. To go gadding, bewich d by the young eye For weary's the wooing, ah I weary, WheTan old man will have a young dearie. The god left my heart at jtssm^b^r^ . But came back on P^^etext of some swe r ^^^^^^ ^Ahf Tom 'tis all o'er with thy ^ayjl^yf-. Write psalms, and not songs lor the ladies. But time'sbeen so far ^^ ^/Jemfr^^^^^^^ That the longer I live, beauty s^ems Jiim lli the only, new l«e jr.y «pen n cj«ces. When one sits by a smiling young dearie I ^wm<-'^ f Uf It i 116 And should she be wroth that my homage pursues her 1 w II turn and retort on my lovely accuser - w^^'-i ^""^ enchantress— not I. the enchanted. Would you have me l)ehave more discreetly, beauty, look not so kill.'ngly sweetly. CamphcU. SONG. How delicious is the winning Of a kiss at Love's begining-j' When two mutual hearts are si;?hin^ 1^ or the knot there's no untying ! "" Yof, remember, 'midst your wooing, Love has bliss, but Love has ruing - Other smiles may make you fickle, 1 cars for other charms may trckle. Love he comes, and Love he tarries, Just as fate or fancy carries ; Longest stays when sorest chidden ; Laughs and flies when press, d and bidden . Bind the sea to slumber stilly, Bind its o^our to the lily, Bind the aspon ne'er to quiver, 1 hen bind Love to last for ever ! Love's a fire that needs renewal Of fresh beauty for its fuel ; OnTv iri"? """"'^^ '"^^'^^ ""^^^'^ ^"^ captured, Unly free, he soars enraptured. Can you keep the bee from ranging, Or the ring-dove's neck from changing ; rso : nor fetter'd Love from dviRo-^ ^ ' in the knot there's no untying. Campbell. "iA: ler. 117 SONG. '« When f he battle is o'er, and the sounds of fight Have closed with the closin!? day, How happy, around the watch-fires hgtit, To chat the long hours away ; To chat the long hours away, my boy, iind talk of the days to come, Or a better still, and a purer joy, To think of our iar off home. " How many a cheek will then grow pale, That never felt a tear ! And many a stalwart heart will quail, That never quailed in fear! And the breast that, like some mighty rock. Amid the foaming sea, Bore high against the battle's shock. Now heaves like infancy. " And those who knew each other not, Their hands together steal, Each think of some long hallowed spot, And all like brothers feel : Such holy thoughts to all are given; The lowliest has his part •, The love of home, like love of heaven, Is woven in our hearc." OH' HAD WE SOME~BRIGHT LITTLE ISLK OF OUR OWN. On ! had we son^e bright little isle of our own, In a blue summer ocean, tar off and alone, Where a leaf never dies in the still blooming bowers. And the bee banquets on through a whole year ot ilowers ; Where the sun loves to pause With so fond a delay, That the night only draws i.v, tiilii veil V Ci iiic UU.J i Where simply to feel that we breathe, that we live, 1« worth the best joy that life elsewhere can give. 11 ~:i \ .^ -ISJB MaSMgn 118 There, with souls ever ardent and pure as the clime, We should love, as they iov'd in the first golden time : II 4?e glow of the sunshine, the balm of the air, - ^ Would steal to our hearts, and make all summer there. With aflfcciion, as free, From decline as the bowers, And, with hope, like the bee, Living- alway ; on flowers. Our life should resemble a long day of light, And our death come on, holy and calm as the night. MoorS" THE FORTUNE-TELLER. Down in the valley come meet me to-night, And I'll tell you your fortune truly As ever 'twas told, by the new-moon's light, To a young maiden, shining as newly. But, for the world, let no one be nigh, Lest haply the stars should deceive me • These secrets between you and me and the sky Should never go farther, believe mc. If at that hour the heav'ns be not dim, My science shall call up before you A male apparition—the image of him Whose destiny 'tis to adore you. And if to that phantom thou be kind, Around you so fondly he'll hover, You'll hardly, my dear, any difference find 'Twixt him and a true hving lover Down at your feet, in the pale moonlight, He'll kneel, with a warmth of emotion— An ardour, of which such an innocent sprite You'd scarcely believe had a notion. What other events and thoughts may arise, As in destiny's book I've not seen them, Must only be lefl to the stars and your eyes To settle, ere morning, between them- Moon 119 TAKE BACK-^TAKE BACK THE VOW YOU GAVE. Take back-take back the vow you gave Since newer ties have power to bind thee , It does not need that thou shouldst brave. Reproof from iier thou'st lett behind thee- The dream of bliss is o'er,-the spell That bound my heart to thee, is broken, And though my heart may sometimes swe i With pL, its wrongs shall ne'er be spoken. Farewell— we meet no more— and thou, May'st rove wherever fancy leads ttiee ; But, oh ! think on thy broken vow, And study well the tale it reads thee. In passion's hour, when thou shalt kneel To her for whom my love is slighted, Think, think what that fond neart musf /ee • „ Whise hopes, like mine, are *' seared and blighted. Be true to her I and still my prayer Shall be— although my heart were riven, That thou may'st never learn to share The pangs thy guilt to me hath given. Farewell ! no tear is in mine eye, , Nor is my breast with anguish heaving, But surely pride may own a sigh. To one so loved-though thus decming^^^ ^^^^^ 1'^ ■% ill OH ! BREATHE JSOT HIS NAME. Oh ! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, Where cold and unhonour,d his rchcs are laid j Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears tuat we s..r<.. As thl! night-dew that falls on the grass o'er hi« head I •:* n til ' I •1^ 120 And the tear that w shed thotf fn ^ ""^"'.^^^ «^^4« «haIllon,keephisLS;'^;re^^^ _ Moore, SHE IS FAR FROM THE LAND. Moore. EVELEEN'S BOWER. Oh ! weep for the hour, Th r r^]^P '^ ^v^L^f^N's bower 1 he Lord of the V^alley with false vows came • The moon hid her h>ht ' From the heavens that nio-hf An., wept behind he.Couc,!'o^^,7gc'!iaido„'s shame. The clouds pass'd soon And hP.v--'^''' the^chaste cold moon. And heavca smilu again with her vestal flame; 121 But none will see the day, When the clouds shall pass away, Which that dark hour left upon Eveleen's fame. The white snow lay On the narrow path-way, When the Lord of the Valley crost over the moor ; And many a deep print On the white snow's tint Shew'd the track oi liis footstep to Eveleen's door- The next sun's ray Soon melted away Every trace on the path where the false Lord came , But there's a light above, Which alone can remove That stain upon the snow of fair Eveleen s fame. Moore. l! .' (:f 1 THIS LIFE IS ALL CHEaUER'D \VITH PLEASURES AND WOES. This life is all chequer'd with pleasures and woes, That cliase one another like waves ot the deep,— Each billow, as brightly or darkly it ilows, Reflecting our eyes, as they sparkle or weep. So closely our whims on our miseries tread, That the laugh is awak'd ere the tear can be dried j And, as fast as the rain-drop of Pity is shed. The goose-feathers of Folly can turn it aside. But pledge me the cup— if existence would cloy, With hearts ever happy, and heads ever wise, Be ours the light Grief, that is sister to Joy, And the short brilliant Folly, that flashes and dies '. When Hylas was sent with his urn to the fount, Thro' fields full of sunshine, wiih heart full or play, L« 1 . Ill ai I ....^-M «%->/-.r./lr\tiir ir»il nidnni.- ight ramDiea luo uuy, uvm iiiv:av.^-vr -.^-.a, i.-- And neglected his task for the flowers on the way. Moore. SING- SING-MUSIC WAS GIVEN SiNG-sing- Music was given, ,,ru . ^ ^""'"ny's laws alone are kept moving. rri"""^'''''*'^ •'>''''« mother, " H^ S?. Srte'Ht-C''^ --^e hi., Ami V "" "* ''PS a soft melody broke WhTle r"'' «'"'''i'!°'<''''l"°k''Ion with a sm'ile So|ffl',fe oy narmony's laws alnn« or^ i,I«* _•.- Moore* 1 and have > vastcd, }} 123 THli SOLDIER'S DREAM. HTTP huffles sanff truce-for the night«cl,oud had lower'd, ^ And tCsemind set their v;atch n the sky i , A^dlousands had sunk o|; the grojind overpower d, The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die. When reposini? that night on my pallet of straw, By X wolficaring fagot thai guarded the slain, At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw and thrice ere the morning 1 dreamt it again. Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array, . Far far I had roam'd on a desolate track : 'T was Autumn,- and sunshine aros3 on the way To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back- I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft IrUife's morning march when my bosom was young , I hpard mv own mountain-goats bleating aloti, And kTewThe sweet strafn that the corn- reapers sung- Then pledged we the wine-cuiD, ^^.^.^'^"{i^y V.^^'^^.^t From my home and my weeping friends never to part Mv little ones kiss'd me a thousand times o'er, And my wife sobb'd aloud in her fulness of heart- ^tflv Slav with us,— rest, thou art weary and worn ; ^ /fndfafn was"heir wa^-broken soldier to stay ;- Bui sorrow return'd with the dawning of morn, ^ And rvoice in my dreaming ear melted^^^^^y • ^^. I i H I m '1- J SONG. Withdraw not yet those lips and fingers. Whose touch to mine is rapture s spell , Life's joy for us a moment lingers, And death seems in the word-Farewell- rni I iU-j. UlArt 1-10 ■l^^rt■ J» nfl ff). Tne nour iinu «jiu3 \j-=! i"-- o- It sounds not yet.-ohl no, no, no I 124 '"^ffi ^1"'^'^ ^ ^^^"^ "PO" *hy sweetness. J:< Jies like a courser nigh the goal : To-morrow where shall be iiis fleetnoss, When thou art parted from my souj ? BuftT 1'" ^'""^^ ^"^ ^^^-^^^ ^ha" flow. tint noi togeiher—no, no, no ! Campbell' THE SPRIG OF SHILLELAH. Oh ! love is the soul of a neat Irishman Wkh ^^- ' ^' ^-^'^^y* '^^'^ ^^^^^^"'he can, nife sprig of Shillelah, and shamrock so green ' To the nr\ZtL^ ?il ^^^> y^^ cc nsents all the while Wuh ,o.r sprig of sJielah' I^'d'l,a'::;U so ,r. „„ ,.- fetL^rr/thfii' •!■ ^^g^-.p.^'.-ekhis w«h: ■ 'SS, iS, ? low, pbell' 125 May the sons of the Thames, the Tweed, and the Shannon, Drub the French, who dare plant at our confines a cannon Unitfd and happy, at Loyalty's shrine, May the Rose and the Thistle long hourish and twine Round a sprig of Shille.lah and shamrock so green . Crokcr. ^ so green nd, ts so green ! air ? so green ! 3eck, 1 down so green ! ows so green ! e, hile. r that, !ogr. on V th, th, J green ! TAK IT MAN, TAK IT. When I was a Miller in Fife, , , , . Losh ! I thought that the sound o' the happei; Said tak hame a wee flow to youi wife, To help to bo brosc to your supper. Then my conscience was narrow and pure. But someway bj^ random it rackit ; For I lifted twa neivetu' or mair, While the happer said— tak it man, tak it^ Hey for the mill and the kill, The garland and geer for my cogie, Hey for the whisky or yill , That washes the dust owre my cragie- Altho' its been lang in repute, For rogues to mak rich by deceiving ; Yet I see that it disna wee I suit, ^ Honest men to begin to the theiving- For my heart it gaed dunt upon duni, Od ! 1 thought ilka dunt it would crack it ; Sae I ilang frae my neive what was in't,— Still the happer said— tak it man, tak it • Hey for the mill, &c- A man that's been bred to the plough, Mi«yht be deaveu wi' it>3 clumoroua clapper ; Yet there's few but would suffer the sough. After kenning what's said by the happer- ■M' ^■*. 126 1 whiles thougiu it scoff d me to scorn, Saying shame, is your conscience no chackit ; But when I grew dry for a horn,— It changed aye to— tak it man, tak it' Hey for the mill, &c» Tlie smugglers whiles cam wi' their pocks, 'Cause they kent that 1 liked a bicker ; See I bartered whiles wi' the gowks, Gied them grain for a soup o' their liquor. 1 had lang been accustom'd to drink, And aye when I purposed to quat it, — That thing wi' its clapperty chnk, — b'aid aye to me— tak it man, tak it. Hey for the mill, &c. Now, miller and a' as I am, This far 1 can see through the matter ; There's men mair notorious to fame, Mair greedy than me for the mutter. For 'twad seem that the hale race o' men, O' wi' safety the half we may make it, Had some speaking happer within, That said to them- tak it man, tak it. Hey for the mill, &c. David Webster, ; ,. r,i ST. PATRICK'S ARRIVAL. St. Patrick, they«ay. Came up sweet Bantry Bay, Riding cross-legged astride on the back of a whale, Which gave him a bob Into Ballydehob, Saying, '• Phadrig, you're welcome to green Innisfail." * • One of the many names for Ireland. It bas been explained tin ttie island oi fate or destiny, from ihe Lis.fail or istone now under the coronation chair in Westminster Abbey. ■HB! 127 The s])alpeenB were scared, As their saucer eyes stared At the Saint, with his mitre, and crosier, and book ; Says one great boathoon, * <• it's the man in the moon ! And I'll sjieak to the creature, Just out of good nature, And scrape an acquaintance by hook or by crook. 1 hope he can't eat us All up like potatoes : ... It was Patrick's day in the morning ! " Your wig, white as flax, Makes me bold for to ax ^ , .,, It's who areyou, what are you, and from whence you camel • Then the other replied, '« 1 came in the last tide: I'm ft saint come to serve you, and Patrick's my name. With the crook in my hand I'll roam over this land, And I'll draw yees together like mountainy sheep ; I'll card ofi the sins That stick close in your skins j ^ You'll see what the fun is, While I beat the Dannis,f A beast with long horns, and black as a sweep. Go, lie down in clover,? Till the skrimmage is over, For it's Patrick's day in the itidrning ! With a thundering polthogue,§ And the toe of his brogue, Soon the Saint kicked the Dunnis beyond the Black sea. ♦ A «hirtless fellow . f Here evidently put for the devil. Donas and Donus istranslated by O'Brien as " distress, mi.sery, iTiisd originally nsed to be a t they were bout them." endnre the ill thfi rules ncii," The Id " inake a And when they awake, ir a swig they sliould take, Oh. dear ! 'twill disgust them. I think I may trust them, They'll vow that no more shall pass down through then irotlle. Something sweet I'll here pour,* And here something sour, On Patrick's day in the morning I ' Pie went off— they awoke, ICach " hot copper" did smoke Like the flue of a sieamer— each pounced on his drink , Their shewing grimaces, Their making of faces, Beat Buckt all to nothing : but, what do you think 1 With features awry, In a hogshead hard by, Each emptied his bottle, though dying of thirst; Till one, dry as a spunge, , A t the tub made a plunge, Where the sour, and the sweet. And the whisky did meet : And he swigged off this physic, till ready to burst, By the side of this mixture Each man grew a fixture, On St. Patrick's day in the morning ! « When St. Patrick came back, Och !" says he, ** ye vile pack Of the spawn of the Druids— ye villanous bunch !" But a noise, as from Babel, Here made him unable To hear his own voice, though he said, " Is the Punch"- EON, he'd have added, But the Firboigs were madded, Their bowls cut short question, remark or reply. * I'ronoiincrd in _ •j A celebriUed niiniature-painter in Cork, about whose rapit'ity o{ execution many curious stories are told. i 130 " Ay, Punch." they roared out, With an earth-shaking shout, '* Is the name of this thing That is drink for a king, Or the mouth of a Druid, if ever he's dry , It would coax pipe-shank'd Death For to let one take breath On St Patrick's day in the morning ; I ! COME BUY MY CHERRIES. Come buy my cherries, beauteous lasses, Fresh from the garden pluck'd by me. All on a summer^s day so gay, Sweet fruit and flowers I cry. Come then fair lasses, pray, And of poor Sally buy. Come buy my roses, youthful lovers, And weave a garland for each maiden^s hair. All on Po summer's day so gay, Oh ! let not pleasure fly. Come then, fond lovers, pray, And of poor Sally buy. Sigh not that blossoms are so fleeting. But seize the treasure, though soon 'twill, fade. Thus like a summer's day so gay. Life's bloom will gently fly. Come then, young lovers, pray, And of poor Sally buy. KELVIN GROVE. Lkt us haste to Kelvin grove, bonny lassie, o, Through its mazes let us rove, bonny lat-sie, o, Where the rose in all its pride Paints the hollow dingle's side, Where the midnight fairies glide, bonny lassie, o. 131 We will wander by the mill, bonny I^^^^^^^^ ^°'5^hrtt1e««ndthleal. ThrS.yh^.!-o;r£?^Uha.l,bonnylassie,o. ^t".etV.CS'^tt-^^^^^^^^ ^ With the songsters in the grove, Stfeltsrnfxr' . „ E'enL" thle oFall most dear, bonny lassie, o- ^altthfwl-^btl^tm'thespr^ FroifthU landTmust away, bonny lass.e, o. „ ^ Octant shore, bonny lassie, o, third Hairmids^^^^^^^^^^^ '^^^^^' ^' ^^' Wilt thou, Ellen, when you hear ToSItt^Bh^^^^^^ THE MILLER^S DAUGHTER. Om the banks of Allan Water, ^ When the sweet spring-time did fall, Was the miller's lovely daughter, Fairest of them all. For his bride a soldier sought her, Jind a winning tongue had he . On the banks of Allan Water None so gay as she. ^ li w f-i- I !| I ^^fl^T"" Mi-i M I 132 Onthe banks of Allan Water, WHen brown autumn spread itsstorr There I saw the miller's daugh e' ' But she smiled no more. ' ^ ^I the jummer (?rief had brou-ht her And he soldior, false ^vas hef On the banks of Allan Water iNonesosad as she. On the banks of Allan Water When the winter snow fell fUf fctill w.s seen the miller's daughter Pnf fh^'^^'^.f ^'}''^ '^'' ^^^«t ; ' RothV'^^^"' 1 ^^^^>^ ^'-^"ghter iioth from cold and care was free • OnthebanksofAllanWaTer ' ' •i Here a corse lay she. -t'HE LAIRD O' COCKPEN But favour wi> wooing wall^HLU^.'Sk. A ,T" .''fi"'P ''yke-siJe a lady clW dwell AI Cki h- ''''?'^ 'je though, ^she'd Ik' well ■ Bl Oleish s ae daughter, o' Clevers-h-i'T e^ ' A penylesB lass wi, a lang pedigree. ' He pat on aring%lXmirek'dtT*" '■'""' And wha could refuse ihe'laird wi'a' that'? He fx)ok his grey mare and rade cannilv ^ae'teuTlil"' '"V^" <>' CIave3'Lee. salfn&'^Sefk^r.LT^^dTA!:»^, 133 Mistress Jean, wha was making the elder-flower wine, Says, "What brings the laird here at sic a like time 1" She pat aff lier apron, pat on a silk gown, A mutch wi' red ribbons, and cam away down. It's when she cam down he bowed fu' low, And what was his errand he soon let her know. Amazed was the laird when the lady said " Na," And wi' a laigh curtsy she turned awa. Dumfounder'd was he, but nae sigh did he gi'e' He mounted his mare, and gaed hame cannily ; And aften he thought, as he rade thro' the glen, She's daft to refuse the laird o' Cockpen. The laird his exit scarcely had made, When, the lady rctlected on what she had said : " 1 might get ane waur, na, aiblins ten ; I was daft to refuse the laird o' Cockpen." She trysted the laird to come down to the Ha' : Qluo' she," I meant Yes, when I answer'd you Na." Now at his table-head, like a white tappet hen. She sits, but nae chickens are yet at Cockpen. NAE LUCK ABOUT THE HOUSE. And are ye sure the news is true 1 And arc ye sure he's wee! 7 Is this a tiir.e to ta'k o' wark 1 Mak ha?te, set by your wheel ! Is this a time to ta'k o' wark, When Collin's at the door ] Gie me my cloak, I'll to the quay, And see him come ashore. j: or there s nae luck about the uousc, There's nae luck ava ; There's little pleasure in the house, When OUT gudeman's awa. .-'•T! •■""•" -Bfirr- 'j n\m ^ O wha can prudence think upon, And sae in love as 1 am I O why should fate, &c. How blest the humble cottar's fate ! He woos his simple deary ; The silly bogles, wealth and state, r.-M^ never make him eerie- Then whv should Me sic pleasure have, Love's dearest band untwining J Or sic a tender flower as love ^ Denend on fortune's shining . ^ J] urns- THE HAWTHORN. One midsummer morning, all nature look'd gay, I met my dear Jamie a tedding the hay , , W^o said mv lovely treasure, ccme see where I dwell, B^^de the Cny hawthorn that blooms in the vale . That blooms in the valley, that blooms in the vale ; Be"hetonny hawthorn that blooms m the vale. He nrais'd me, and said that his love was sincere, NZne on the green was so charming and fair , I Ustened, with pleasure, to Jamie's tender tale. Beside the bonny hawthorn that blooms m the vale. That blooms, &c. O hark, bonny Bess, to the birds in yon grove, ^ How ddightfu' they sing, how mvUing to ^ov e ^^^^ TViP Vmers deck'd wr roses pcriuiuu luv, >.iy"i r-/ o --; Beside theCny hawthorn t&at blooms m ihe vale. That blooms, &c. T'ii I 138 Thlv ?H^i'^'''''\'^ pleasing, his words soft and kind Rnfli^' ^^ P' '''?^ ""^^ «^i^ I c««Id not stay, 1^ ntT'^"'^ r ' ^"^^^^ "^^' "^r ^«t ^«e away J H^inc l""^' ^^ maidens, how 1 could refuse, Wp wpnY^'%''' '''^^^' ^^^ «« ^^^"^inff ^is vows : B^sirth/h ^ "^"^ '"^i:""^' ' ^ ' ^"««t cordially we dwell Hamilton. TIBBIE DUJVBAR. O w^;^T.i!l°" ^° ?'^' "^^^ '^*^^t Tibbie Dunbar ? Uw It thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar "^ Wilt hou ride on a horse, or be drawn in a car Ur walk by my side, o sweet Tibbie Dunbar ? \ o.lf ''^t^^, ^^^^^^' ^'^ ^ands and his money But ^nwh^^ ^'^^l t^^ ^'^^ ^"^ «ae lordly; An 1 rL "^^ ."I'^' ^^^"'^' ^«^ better for waur, And come in thy coatie, sweet Tibbie Dun bar. Burns* KIND ROBIN LOES ME. Robin is my only jo, For Robin has the art to loe ; too to his suit I mean to bow, Because I ken he loes me. ^appy, happy was the shower, 1 iiat led me to his TWrton i,«,y^« W^are first of love I fand 'the power. And ken'd that Robin loed me. !■■ nd kind, mind : the dale, he vale. le vale. ly we dwell le vale. ilt07} . ibar? ir? car, .r? ley, ar. 139 T,ey speak of nn^klr^^^r^^^ Speak of S^«\t;usand bi^^^ ^^^"SS, He's tall and sonsy, frank and Iroe. Ifedte^^^l-hlL-lMdle. ^Because my Robmloes me. o .iuHp kens she what has been, S'e'fdmThon-t Rob between, ^dtSfhatCmo^ T^n flee?ye la/J hours, away, Hr5r;o«nl?f^ess ^oUn shall say, ^i'nd'mak him mine that loes me. Till then let every chance »mte I°r!''iUMrnt« 'wf spite: ^"Wha doSbt that Robin loes me. Obey, Robin, quo she, O hey Robin, quo' she, O hey, Robin, quo' she, Kind Robin loes me. BONNY JEAN. There was a lass, and stie wa» lair, A t ki7k and market lo be seen, wter a' the fairest maids were met, ^Th; fairest maid was bonny Jean. I ! ' ( J 40 "^^^ a hgiiicr heart than she. He g-aed wi' Jeanie to the trvsiP ■He dancM wV t^ "/"*^ «rysie, ■as in the bosom 0' the stream witbintiSc^stTboXt::;!' uu nuiK lier vveel again. ^'et/ro;;'4:t,?'/er His cheek t,h^'^|irf''?/'''agwve; ^Andwi,sp;%^t^ttete'^ And learn toieVtll "?"^"^^^'« ^«t. " 10 lent the farms wi' me ? ->>■ At Barn or byre thou shalt na (lrii;lgc, Or naething else to trouble thee ; But strav amanc? the heather-bells, And tent the waving corn wi' me. Now what could artless Jeanie do '? She hadna will to say him na : At Icns^th she blush'd a sweet consent, And love was aye between them twa- Burnff. THE HERO OF BALLINACRAZY. When 1 lived in sweet Ballinacrazy, dear, The girls were all tight as a daisy, dear , , , , When I gave them ! smack, they whisper d, good luck ' And cried, Pady now, can't you be eisy dear ! First 1 married Miss Dolly 0*Dazy, dear, She had iwo swivel eyes, wore a jazey, dear , Then to fat Miss Malone, weighing seventeen stone : Then to lantern-jaw'd skinny O'Crazy, dear. When I lived, &c. Then I married Miss Dorothy Taisy, dear, A toast once in Ballinacrazy, dear ; Her left leg was good, but its fellow was wood. And she hopp'd like a duck round a daisy, dear. When I lived, &c. Then I married her sister, Miss Taisy, dear, But she turn'd out so idle and lazy, dear, That I took from the peg my deceased lady's leg, For to lather my live one when lazy, dear- When I lived &c. Then I pick'd up old rich Mother Hazy, dear, She'd a cough, and employ'd Doctor Blazy,dear ; But some dro( « that he gave dropp'd her into her grave, And her cash made me very soon aisy, deer. When I lived, &c. I ■•'liiiimsimsiesb'ir*^^ Mllfi I f :i; 142 Then says I to old Father O'Mazy, dear. Uon t my weddings and funerals please you, dear f Oh ! says^liejyou blacke^uard betwiit chGrcli and churcfr Why, you neWr will let me be aisy, dear. Wiien I lived, &c. 1 m the Hero of Balhnacrazy, dear ; 1 11 marry you all, lean, fat, short, and tall, One after the other, to please you, d«ar. When 1 lived, &c. AS A BEAM O'ER THE FACE. As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow, When the tide runs in darkness and coldnfsnelow, So the cheek may be tinged with a warm sunny smie Though the colcf heart to ruin runs darkly the whTle T^i'h/^ u' remembrance, one sorrow that throws Its bleak shade alike o'er our joys and our woes. To which hie nothing darker or brighter can brinff For which joy has no balm, and affliction no sting.^" Like a'd.^^^.n^n^ff "' K^" ""L^?^ of enjoyment will stay, luike a dead leafless branch m the summer's bright raV • The beams of the warm sun play round it in v5n -^ * It may smile in their light, but t blooms nolaga^n. ' THE BOY FOR BEWITCHING 'EM, I ^AS the boy for bewiching 'em, yviiether good-humour'd or coy : All cried, when I was beseeching 'em Uo what you will with me, joy. ' ^^"gnters, be cautious and steady. Mothers would cry out for fear, Won t you take care now of Teddy f- Oh ! he's the devil, my dear. Thou >u, dear ? ch and church. CE. ?low, iss below, inny smile, the while. rows voes, n bring. ) sting. will stay, bright ray : 1 vain : again. 'EM, m. 143 For I was the bov Tor bewitching e'm, Whether good-humourM or coy ; All cried, when I was beseeching V'ln, Do wliat you will with me, joy. From every qiuarter I gather'd 'em ; Very few rivals had I ; If I found any, 1 leather'd 'em, That made 'em plaguilly shy. Pat Mooney my Shelah once meeting, 1 twigg'd him beginning his clack. Says he, at my heart I've a beating. Says I, Then take one at your back. For I was the boy, &c. Many a lass that would fly away, When e ther v/ooers but spoke, Once if I look'd her a die-av^ay, There was an end of the joke* Beauties, no matter how cruel. Hundreds of lads tho' they'd cross'd, When J came nigh to them, jewel, Melted like mud in a frost. For 1 was the boy, &c. THE DYING FATHER TO HIS DAUGHTER. I To me, my sweet Kathleen, the Benshee has oried, i And! die— ere tomorrow 1 die, This rose thou hast gather'd, and laid by my side, Will live, my child, longer than I. My days they are gone, like a tale that is told ; I Let me bless thee, and bid thee adieu ; For never to father, when feeble and old, Was daughter so kind and so true. [Thou hast walked by my side, and my board thou hast spread, rest ; For my chair the warm corner has found, And told my dull car what the visitor said, When I saw th.it tiie laugher went round, rhou hast succour'd me still, and my meaning exprest When memory Avas lost on its way : ' Thou hast pi! low 'd my head ere 1 laid it to rhou art weeping beside me to-day. O Kathleen, my love ! thou cou!dst choose the good part And more than thy duty hast done : ' Go nov; to thi^ Dcruiot, be prcss'd to his heart i He merits the love he has won. Be duteous and tender to him as to me : Looi;: up to the mercy-scat then ; And, passing this shadow of death, which I see Come, come to my arms back again. " ' PADDY'S TRIP FROM DUBLIN. 'TwAS business required I'd from Dublin be straying 1 bargain d the captain to sail pretty quick • But just at the moment the anchor was weighin"- A spalpeen, he wanted to play me a trick. °' fcays he, Faddy, go down stairs and fetch me some beer now. Says I, By my soul, you're monstratiously kind : Then you'll sail away and I'll look mighty queer Aow, When 1 come up and see myself all left behind. Witli my palh uh, whilliluh, whilliluh, palliiuh. Whack, botheration, and Langolee. A storm met the ship, and so sadly did dodge her, Snys the captain. VVe'U sink, or be all cast away. 1 hinks 1, never mind, 'cause Fm only a lodger. And my life is insured, so the office must pay! But a taef who was sea-sick kick'd up such o riot. T / n ^ . I '7 ?"^te sea- sick and speechless, poor elf, I could no he p bawling, yon spalpeen, be quiet ! ' - -i.;:-'^ '""= V/.V'?^ iiwuuuy deau out y.urseif j With my palhluh, &c. 145 Well, we got safe on shore, every son of his mother ; There 1 found an old friend, Mr- Paddy Macgee. Och, Dermot, says ho, is it you or your brother ? Says I, I've a mi-^hty great notion it's me. Then I told him the bull we had made of our journey, But of bull-making Irishmen always bear blauK!, Says he, my good friend though we've bulls in Hibernia, They've cuckolds in England, and that's all the same. With my palliluh, &c, But from all sorts of cuckoldom Heaven preserve us, For John Bull and Paddy Bull's both man and wife, And every brave fellow vvlio's kill'd in their service Is sure ot a pension the rest of his life. Then who, in defence of a pair of such hearties, Till ne'd no legs to stand on, would o'er run away ? For should peace'turn to war, spite of frictions and parties, This couple, united, shall carry the day, With my palliluh, &c. SATURDAY JNIGHT AT SEA. 'Tis said we vent'rous die-hards, when we leave the shore, Our friends should mourn, Lest we return * To bless their sight no more ; But this is all a notion Bold Jack can't understand, Some die upon the ocean, And some upon the land. Then since ^l is clear, Howc'er we steer, No man's life's under his command ; Let tempests howl, And billows roll An/->i-r» rf1»*>V am 1 was uurij, anu iiww ^ i^^ t^^'vi I ne'er saw siccan wretched play ; Our fallows are clean wud the day, Their stanes like gouks are hurhng 151 But brine: the whisky and th« baiks, Though fortune has played us tlie glaiks, A Bumper to the Land o' Cakes, And her ain game o' curling. When snaw lies white, &c. Sir Alexander ISositdl. WHITE WINTER ON ILK HILL. White winter, on ilk hill and plain, Is a' its powers unfurling, And giving Scotia's sons again Their favourite ^ame o' Curling : That game which is like nature free, The Caledonian's darling ; For ever cursed let him be , Wlia'd tax the game o' Curling. On ilka river, loch and pond, The bonspeil is contested ; And, though their hearts are warm and keen, Yet envy is resisted : For, when the game is at an end, And the glasses round are whirling, Then ilka ane drinks to his friend, And the glorious game o' Curling. Here lead the ice wi' canny care, And let it no be roaring ; Now take it dead, and hit it fair, Hen't alT the ice a-snoring ; Now lay a guard, now strike a blow, Till a' the ice is, dirlin,^ : Blind victory goes to and fro At the glorious game o' Curling. Come, fill the glass, and send it round, Sae ioviaK n.nd sae hearty ■ Let mirth, unmix'd wi' -are, abound^ Amang ilk curling party : m H I' 'I 152 Aye may we play with social glee, Devoid of strife and snarling?, Sao put it round, wi' three times three, To freedom, love, and Curling- Rob. Iletnck Dalmcllington THE MUSIC OP THE YEAR IS HUSHED The music of tlie year is hushed h\ bonny glen nnd shaw, man, An' winter spreads, o'er nature dead, A winding-sheet o' snaw, man ; O'er burn and loch the warlock, frost, A crystal brig has laid, man, The wild geese, screaming wi' surprise, The ice-bound wave ha'e fled, man. Up, Curler ! leave your bed sae warm, And leave your coaxing wife, man, Gae, get your besom, trickers, stanes, And join the friendly strife, man, For on the water'« face are met, Wi' mony a merry joke, man, The tenant and his jolly laird, The pastor and his flock, man. The rink is swept, the tees are marked, The bonspeilis begun, man ; The ice is true, the stanes are keen ; Huzza ! for glorious lun, man. The skipps are standing on the tee To guide the eager game, man ; Hush ! no a word— but mark the broom> And take a steady aim, man- Here draw a shot— there lay a guard, A p(l horn hpciflp him lif man. Now let hirn feel a garnester*s hand, Mow in his bosom die, man. 153 There fill the port, antl block the ice. We sit upon the tee, man ; Now tak' this inring sharp and neat, And mak' the winner tlee, man- How stands the game 1 Its eight and eight ; Now for the winning shot, man ; Draw slow and sure, the ice is keen, I'll sweep you to the spot, man. Thestane is thrown, ii glides alang, The besoms ply it in, man, Wi' twisting back the players stand, And eager, breathless grin, man. A moment's silence, still as death. Pervades the anxious ihrang, man, Then sudden bursts the victors' shoui, Wi' hollas, loud and lang, man; Triumphant besoms wave in air, And friendly banters fly, man, Whilst, cauld and hungry, to the inn, Wi' eager steps, they hie, man. Now fill ae bumper— fill but ane. And drink wi' social glee, man, May Curlers on life's slippery rink Frae cruel rubs be free, man , Or should a treacherous bias lead Their erring steps a jee. man, Some friendly inringmay they meet To guide them to the tec, man. Rev- Henry Duncan, RothwelL w\ WHEN BIllDS AND WIMPLIJNiG BURNS. When birds and wimpiing burns are dumb» And blades are cranreuch white ; When i' the hft ihe level sun \ Frae snaw gets back his light ; I 11; I 154 Aiul on ae fit tlie henbirds sit, And chittering wail thcgithcr ; Blythe morn anti e'en'ailk Curler kcett 'Tis snell, snell, frosty weather. Come, ply your besoms, soop the rink ; The snaw-shool labour sairly ; Hae ! there's the trickers, mak' the tecs, And stop the hogscores fairly ; And, while Ihe joke doth mirth provoke, Let ilk man be a brither, Blvlhe morn and e'en' a Curler keen, in snell, snell, frosty weather. •* Now, forehan', draw a canny shot : Weel iced, sir ; just the thing: Lads gae him feet, — oh ! polish clean, It's a patlid in tee-ring." " Tarn ! play the same spring o'er again, And loss na ye your slane ; The ice ye ha'e, but frae bank to brae Ye' re ragin':— ten ell gane." ^'^ Oh ! lay a guard ; the ice is gleg : Come creeping up snail-speed : Oh. wha played that ^—that's like yoursel' Ourstane is covered dead." '' Tam ! tak' a yard, and pass their guard : Oh mind the inside twist ; — That bias crack has gart you tak' Hin' ban's promotion list." And now the game gangs on like stour, They inwick, ride and draw : Ane breaks an egg on that stane's face, Ane's owre amang the snaw : The hogscore, too, gets collies a few, Blyihe morn and e'en a Curler keen, In snell, snell, frosty weather. 155 1 ha'c tried Jove, I ha'c tried war, I've tried to play the warldling, But, 'boon a' crafts or joys, to me, Is winter's darling?— Curling : There's aye sic glee around the tee, Ilk man's a social brither, Ely the morn and e'en, a Curler keen, In snell, snell, frosty weather- ' Ayr Advertiser. CURLING SONG.-1H33. Some lo'e the Spring when lav'rocks sing, Some Simmer dight wi' flower?, Some Autumn's sheaf, an' changing leal, Some Winter's sangless bowers. Thai lime o* year I lo'e the best, Whilk, maist do sair misca' ; Lease me to Boreas bit in' blast, Pu' snelly may he blaw. When Boreas comes out frae the north, Joy lights the Curlers e'e ; His twa prime stanes out frae their berth, Wi' meikle pride pous he : Syne, turns them o'er wi' eident care, Their fittin' state to learn ; Syne, hauds them aff an ell or mair, Their contour to discern. And when at length the lochs are bun, Wi' Boreas' britrle ban's; See, see him noo, amang the crew, Hoo buirdlily he sian's. To draw the shot is neist his lot ; He's patlided the tee ; '« That's pvime"~'nhat's wise," cries every voicc> *' The game's our ain by three." Or at the '* public" ca's, To change his buggers gin they're damp, Or fortify his hause. 156 Wife, weans, and bed, him welcome gie, He's dreaming while he snores, C inwick, guards, upon the tee, Ports, cannons, and hogscores. T-S. TO THE DOUNE CURLING CLUB. Tiio' winter's come, nae frosty winds Are sough in' yet, for a' thai ; But wait a wee, an' syne we, II see A change ere lang, for a' that. For a' that, an' a' that, The ice will come, for a' that ; Just wait a wee, an' syne we^llsee Braw frosty days, for a' that. Now get your stanes in order, lads. An' besoms new, an' a' that. Your trickers stout, weel rought about, Ye'll need them yet, for a' that. For a' that, an' a' that, The ice will come, for a' ihat ; Just wait a wee, an' syne we'll see Braw frosty days, for a' that. And when the cauld comes fairly on, The pond weel damm'd, an' a that, We'll ha'e some fun, if ance begun, On rinks as gleg as a' that. As a' that, an' a' that, We'll ha'e some fun, for a' that : Just wait a v;eo, an' syne we'll see The ice as smooth as a' that. There's no a time in a' the year Like frost for health an' a' that ; Where ice abounds, there mirth resounds, The Curlin's grand wi' a' that. 17 ur a liiai, ixii a, iiiai, The Curlin's grand wi' a' that ; Whan ere a man puts tae his han*, His heart gets up like a' that. 157 Thon here's a health" lo a* our frien's, Their wivcp, their bairns, an' a' that : May iliiaane that plays a stane, Ne'er fend the waur, for a' that, For a' that, an' a' that ; Ne'er fend the waUr, for a' that ; May ilka ane that plays a stane, Ha'e peacefu' days wi' a' that. I'-fi \\ W,S. 'HE BLOOM HATH FLED THY CHEEK, MARY. The bloom hath fled thy cheek, Mary, As spring's rath blossoms die, And sadness hath o'ershadowed now Thy once bright eye ; But, look on me, the prints of grief Still deeper lie. Farewell ! Thy lips are pale and mlite, Mary, Thy step is sad and slow, The morn of sfladnoA'^ hath gone by Thou erst did know ; 1 too, am changed like thee, and weep, For very woe. JBarewell! It seems as 'twere biit yesterday We were the happiest twain, When murmured sighs and joyous tear»>v Dropping like rain, Discoursed my love, and told how loved I was again. Farewell ! *Twas not in cold and measured phrase We gave our passion name ; Scorning such tedious eloquence, •^? %i''.\tg.g'.- And long imprisoned feelings fast Indeep sobs came. Farewell 1 158 Would that our love had been the love That merest worldlings know, When passion's draught to our doomed lips Turns utter woe, And our poor dream of happiness Vanishes so ! Farewell ! But in the wreck of all our hopes, There's yet some touch of bless, Since fate robs not our wretchedness Of this last kiss : Despair, and love, and madnoss, meet In this, in this. Farewell Motliericell. MAY MORN SONG. Ill The grass is wet with shinin.s; dews, Their silver bells hang en each tree, While opening flower and bursting bud Breathe incense forth unceasingly ; The mavis pipes in greenwood shaw, The throstle glads the spreading thorn, And cheerily the biyihsome lark Salutes the rosy face of morn. 'Tis early prime • And hark ! hark ! hark 1 His merry chime CL'rrups the lark : Chirrup ' chirrup ! he heralds in The jolly sun with matin hymn. Come, come, my love ! and May^dews shake in pailfuls from each drooping bough, They'll give fresh lustre to the bloom That breaks upon thy young cheek now. O'er hill and dale, o'er waste and wood, Aurora's smiles are streaming free ; With earth it seems brave holiday, In heaven it looks high jubilee. i^« 159 And it is right, For mark, love mark ! How bathed in light Chirrups the lark : Chirrup ! chirrup ! he upward flies, Like holy thoughts to cloudless skies. They lack all heart w ho cannot feel The voice of heaven within them thrill, In summer morn, when mounting high This merry minstrel sings his fill. Now let us seek yon bosky dell Where brightest wild -flowers choose to bej And where its clear stream murmurs on, Meet type of our love's purity ; JNo witness there, And o'er us, hark 1 High in the air Chirrups the lark : Chirrup r chirrup ! away sores he, Bearing to heaven my vows to thee I Mothericdi, HE IS GONE ! HE IS GONE He is gone I he is gone ! Like the leaf from the tree ;. Or the down that is blown By the wind o'er the lea* He is fled, the light-hearted ! Yet a tear must have started To his eye, when we parted From love -stricken me ! He is fled ! he is fled ! Like a gallant so free Plumed cap on his head, And sharp sword by his knee; Surely something he muttered, He at least must havj uttered A farewell to me I i I i HI w 160 He's away ! he's away To far lands o'er the sea— And long is the day Ere homo he can be; But where'er hisstred prances, Amid throniinc lances, Sure he'll think of the glances That love stole from mc ! He is gone ! ho is cijone ! Like the leaf from the tree ; But his heart is of stone If it ne'er dream of mc ! For I dream of him ever : His huff-coat and heaver, And lone: sword, Oh, ne.vr Are absent from me ! Motherwell- GRIEVING'8 A FOLLY- Spanking Jack was so comely, so pleasant so jolly. Though winds blew great guns, still he d whistle and sin" For Jack lov'd his friend, and was true to his Molly, And if honour cive^ irrrntncss, was great as a king : One night as wc drove with two reefs in the main sail, And the scud came on low'rincr upon a lee shore, Jack went up alof for to hand the tj.jgantsail, A spray wash'd him off. and we ne'er saw him more; But grieving'sa fo'ly, Come let us bi^ jolly; If we've troubles on sea, boys, we've pleasures on shore. Whiffling Tom still of mischief, or fun in the middle, Throu«^h life in all weathers at random would .jog, He'd dan'ce, and he'd sing and he'd play on the tiddle, And swig with an sdr his nliowance of grog: 'Lonjrside of a Don. in the Terrible frigate. As yard-arm and y:>rd arm we lay oti Hie anore, In and out whiffling Tom did so caper and jig it. That his head was shot off nn we ne'er saw him more But grievins's a fohy, &v 161 -M Bony Ben was to each jolly messmate a brother, lie was manly and honest, good-natur'd and free; 11 ever one tar was more true than another To his friend and his duty, that sailor was he : One day with the davit to weic^h the kcdge anchor Ben went in the boat on a bold craggy shore, tie overboard tipp'd, when a shark and a spanker Soon nipped him in two, and we ne'er saw him more . But grieving's a folly, £:c. But what of ii all, lads 7 shall we be downhearted Because that mayhap we now take our last sup ? Life's cable must one day or other ha parted, And Death in safe moorings will bring us all up : But 'tis always the way on't ; one scarce finds a brother Fond as pitch, hones^ hearty, and true to the cure. W l>ut by batiie, or storm, or some damn'd thing or other, He's popp'd off the hooks, and we ne'er see him mure i But grieving's a folly, &c. Dlbdiii- THE SxllLOR- That girl who fain would choose a mate Should ne'er in fondness fail her, Blay thank her lucky siars if fate Should sf)lice her to a sai or. He braves the storm, the battle's heat, The yellow boys to nail her : Diamonds, if diamonds she could eat, Would seek her honest sailor. If she'd be constant, slill his heart She's sure will never fail her, For. though a thousand leagues a])art, Still faithful is her siailor. If she bo fa'se. .slill he is kind, » s..s>j J iiiroi It i J vJuf;^ i;tjv\i _ , Her trusting as he trusts the wind, Still ^ *U^^^ U JL - ^x^:a ^'' '*"'" mv'sc uunurs lo save ; Wil nought to my bosom restore thee 'I i hen open the gates of the grave. ill 168 A a the chief who to ronibut advances Secure of his cniiqutst before, Thus thou, with those eyes for thy lanceg, IlaKt pierced through tny heart lo its eors. Ah. tell me, ir.y soul ! mutst 1 prrisli By pangs whicii a smile would dispel '? Would the hope, which thou once had'st rae cherish, For torture repny me so wtll i Now pad isthe^'arden of roses, FJelovpd ])ut false Haldee I There Flora all wither'd reposes, And mourns o'er thine absence with me. Byron TRANSLATION OF THE FAMOUS GREEK WAR SONG. SoN'S of the Greeks, arise ! The glorious hour's gone forth,. And, worthy of such ties, Display v^ho gave us birth- CHORUS. Sons ofGrerks ! let us go In arms against the fop, Till their haled blood shall flow. In a river past our feet. Than manfully despising The Turkish tyrant's yoke, Let your country see you rising, And all her chains are broke- Brave shades of chiefs and sagrs^ Behold the coming strife ! Hellenes of past, ages, Oh, start again to life ! xli the sound of ii.y trumpet, l)reakinar *' Your sleep, oh, join with me/ AnA ttiA cpvf>n-hillM ritv srokins". Fight, conquer, till we're free. Sonsot Greeks, &c 169 Sparta, Sparta, why in slu.r.bcrs Lethargic do^t tliou lie ? AwakvK and join thy nuaihers With AihiMij^, old ally ! Leonidas rccaJtin?, That chicfof aririont song, Who saved you otico from lUllinp, The torrihic ! the strong ! Who made tliat bold diversion In old 'I'hennopyla), And warring with the Persian To keep his country free ; With his three hundred waging The battle, long he !>tood, A nd like a lion raging. Kxpireil in seas of blood. Sons of Greeks, &c. ByroU' STANZAS FOR MUSIC There's not a joy, the world can give like that it take* away, When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's full decay ; 'Tis not on youth's smooth check the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past. Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of hap** piness Are driven o'er tiie shoals of guilt or ocean of excess : The magnet of their course U gone, or only points in vain The shore to which their shivcr'dsaii shall never stretch again. i ii: 170 Then Iho mortal coldness o'er tlie soul like dratii itsrlf comes down ; It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its own That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears Andthonjrh the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the icti appears. Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast, Through midnii^ht hours that yield no more their former hope of rt'st ; T is hut as ivy-leaves around the ruin\1 turret wreath. All green and wddly fresh without, but worn and crav beneath. ^ ^ Oh could I feel as I have felt,— or be what I have been Or weep ns I could once have wept, o'er many a vani«;hM scene ; As sprinsr.s in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish thouirli they he, =* So, midst the wither'd waste of life, those tears would flow to me. Byron- STANZAS FOR MUSIC. I. Bright be the place of thy soul ! No lovelier spirit than thine E'er burst from its mortal control. In the orbs of the blessed to shine. On earth thou wert all but divine, As thy soul shall immortally be ; And our sorrow may cease lo're])ine When we know that ihy God is with thee- II. Li^ht be the turf of thy tomb ! May its verdure likt; emeralds be ! 1 here should not be the shadow of gloom in auffht that reminds us of thee- 171 Young flowers and an r > ^TPii tree May Bprinf; from thacj ot o. thy rest ; But nor cypress noryc • 's see ; For why should we niou- ; >r the blest ? Byron- ii'.' STANZAS FOR MUSIC They say that Bope is happiness ; Butcrenuine Love must prize the past. And Memory wakes the thoui^hts that bless They rose the first — they set the last. 11. And all that Memory loves the most Was once our only Hope to be, And all that Hope adored and lost Hath melted into Memory. iir. Alas ! it is delusion all : The future cheats us from afar, Nor can we be what we recall, Nor dare we think on what we are- Byron- Hi I i \ MICKY FREF'S ANCESTRY. I. " Oh ! once we were illidnt people, Though we now live in cabins of mud; And the land that ye see from the steeple Belonged to us all from the flood. My father was then king of Connaught, My grandaunt viceroy of Tralee ; But the Sassenach came, and, signs on it 1 The devil an.acie have we* «l IH 172 m \m 11* ** The Irastof ws thru wcro a I! crrls, And jewels we wore witJiout name ; AVe drnnk punch out of rubies and pearls- Mr. Pc'rie can tell you the same.— But, except some turf mould and pola(oes, Thrrc'ti nothing our own we can call : Ami the English— had luck to them !-hate us. Because we've more fun then them a'l ! III. " My frrandaunt was niece to St. Kevin, That's the reason ii.y name's Micky Free ! Priest's nieces- but sure he's in Heaven, .And his f?ulins is nothin to me- And we r,rill ivA^ht get on without doctors, If they'd let the ou'd If-land alone ; And if purple men, priests, and tithe proctors, Were crammed down the great gun of Athlono." BELIEVE MR. IF ALL THOSE ENDEAilL\G YOUi\G C11ARM;S. Believe me, ifall those endearing young charmf, Which I gaze on to fondly to day, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arirs, Like tail y gifts fading away, Thou wouldi-t still be ador'd, as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would enlvvine itself verdantly still. It is not while beauty and youth are thine own, And thy caeeks unprofan'd by a tear, 1 hat the fervour and faith of a soul can be known, ro which time will but make thee more de ar- Oh ! the heart that hns truly lov'd never forgets', iBut as truly loves on to the close, As the sun-flower turns on her god, when he sets, 1 he same look which die turn'd when he rose. Moore, 173 OH! 'TIS SWEET TO THINK. Oh ! 'tis sweet to think, that, where'er we rove, Wc are sure to find soiiiothin:? blissful and dear, And that, when wd're tar from tlie lips we love, We have bul to make love to the lips we are near . The heart, like a tend ril, accustom'd to cling, Let it grow where it wil!,car.not flourish alone, But wllUcan to the nearest, and loveliest thing, It can twine with itself and make closely its own- Then oh ! what pleasure, where'er we rove, To be doom'd to iind something, still, that is dear, And to know, who far from the lips we love, We- have but to niake love lo the lips we are near- Twere ashame, wh-n flowers around us rise, To make light of the rest, if the rose is not there ! And the world's so rich in resplendent eyes, ^Twere a pity to limit one's love to a pair. liWe's wing and th". pi aceck's are nearly alike, They are both of them bright, but they're changeable too, And, v^hcrevera nnw beam of beauty can strike, II will tincture Love's ])lume wiili a dilVercnt hue ! Then oh I what pleasure, where'er we rove, To be doomed lo fin I s jmetiing, still, that is dear, And to know, wlion far f'-om the li!)s we love. We have but Lo make love t^ the lips we are near- Moore. i,i-'. WHERli: IS THE SL:\VE. Weikrr is the slave so lowly, Condeuui'd to chains unholy, Who, could he burst His bonds ;it ii st, Wduld pine beneath them slowly 7 What soul, whose wrongs degrade it, I74< Would wait till time dccay'd it, When thus its wing- At once may spring To the throne of Him who made it ? Farewell, Erin !■— farewell, all, Who live to weep our fall ! Less dear the laurel growing, Alive, untouch'd and blowing. Than that, whose braid Is pluck'd to shade The brows with victory glowing ' We tread the land that bore us, The friends we've tried Are by our side. And the foe we hate before us ! Farewell, Erin ! — farewell, all, Who live to weep our fail ! Mocre. THEE, THEE, ONLY THEE. The dawning of morn, the day-light's sinking, The night's long hours still find me thinking Of thee, thee, only thee. When friends are met, and goblets crown 'd And smiles are near, that once enchanted, Unreach'd by all that sunshine round, My sou!, like some dark spot, is haunted By thee, thee, only thee. Whatever in fame's high path could waken IVly spirit once, is now forsaken For thee, thee, only thee. Like shores, by which some headlong bark To the ocean hurries— resting never — Life's scenes go by me, bright or dark, 1 know not, heed not, iiastening cvfr To luee, thee, only thee. 175 I have no joy but of thy bringing, And pain itself seems sweet when springing From thee, thee, only thee. Like spells, that nought on earth can break, Till lips, thai know the charm, have spoken, ■'is heart, howe'er the world may wake '^is grief, its scorn can but be broken By thee, thee, only thee. Moore. 'T* THE MAN FOR GAL WAY. ■•^ To drink a toast, A proctor roast. Or bailiff as the case is, To kiss your wife Or take your life At ten or lifteen paces ; To keep game cocks — to hunt the fox, To drink in punch the Solway, With debts galore, but fun far more ; Oh, that's Hhe man for Gal way.' '< Chorus— With debts, &.c. <^' TheKinp ofOude Is mighty proud, And so were onst the Caysars — (Caesars) ; But juUJ Giles Eyre Would make them stare, Av he had thnra with Blazers. To the devil I fling— ouli* Hunjeet Sing, He'sordy a princ-- in a small way, And knows noihin. * all rf a six foot wall , Oh, he'd never • do i'm Galway-' •• Chorus— With debts, &c. <' Ye think tbr Bl-^kes Are no ' great ^ take« ;' They're all is blot J relationt, And the Bodkins f r/jeze At the grim Chinese, fli E*s^ LADY'S POCKET ADONIS. TiiKRR was a lady lived at Leith, A lady very stylish, man, AikI yet in spite of nil her teeth, She fell in love with an Irishman. A nasty, u^-ly Irishmnn, A wild tremendous Irishman, A tearing, swearing^, thumping, bumpin-, ramping, roarin'^ Irishman. "^ His face was no ways beautiful, For with small pox 'twas scarr'd across ; Anidtling Irishman - 1 lie stamping, ramping, svyaggering, staggering, leathering swash of an Irishman. . ^:Zl_ 4 182 He took 80 much of Lundy^foot, That he used to snort and sriuffle, O ; And in shape and size, the f' I low's neck, Was as bad as the neck of a buffalo. Oh the horrible Irishman. The thundering, blurKlerini? Irislunan, The slashing, dashing, smashing, lashing, trashing, haslv ing Irishman. His name was a terrible name, indeed, Being Timothy Thady iVlulIi;?an ; And whenever he emptied his tumbler of ])uncli He'd not rest till he tilled it full again. The boozing, bruising Irishman, The'toxicated Irishman— The whisky, frisky, rummy, gummy, brandy, no dandy Irishman, This was the lad the lady bvcd, Like all the girls ot qu-^/.ity ; i^nd he broke the skulb of the men of Lcith, Justlrv the way of jollity. Oh the leathering Irishman, The barbarous, savage Irishman — The hearts of the maids, and the gentlemen's heads, wore boiher'd, I'm sure, by this Irishman- Doctor Mag in 71' MY AULD BREEKS. My mither men't my auld breeks, An' wow I but they were duddy> And sent me to get Mally shod At Robin Tamson's smiddy ; The smiddy stands beside the burn That wimoles through theclachan, I never yet gae by the door, But ay§ I fa' a-laughin' I 183 For Robin was a waif hy carle, An' had ao l)onnie dochter, Yet ne'er wad Ui her tak' a man, Tho' mony lads had sought her ; But what think ye o' my exploit ? The time our mare was shoeing, J sJippit up l)esi(le the lass, And briskly feila-vvooinq, An' aye she e'ed my auld ])reckfi, The time that we sat cracken', €tuo' J, my lass, ne'er mind tbe clouts, I've new anes for the nakin' : Hut gin ye'll just come liame wi' me, An' lea' the carle, your lather, Ye'se get my breeks to keep in trim, Mysel, an' a' thegilher. Deed, lad, quo' she, your offer's fair, irealy think I'll tak' it, .Sae, gang awa'. (rd out (he mare, We'll baith slip on the back o't ; For gin 1 wait my father's time, I'll wait till I be fifty ; But na !— I'll marry in my prime, An' mak' a wife most thrifty. Wow ! Robin was an angry man, At tyning o' his dochter : Thro' a' the kinira-side he ran, An' far an' near he sought her ; But when he cam' to our fire end. An* tand us bailh thegither, Auo' I, gudeman, I've ta'm your bairn, An' ye may tak' my miiher. Auld Robin girn'd an' sheuk his pow, Gruid sooth ! quo' he you're merry, i3ut f Ml just tak' ye at your word, An' end this hurry-burry f 'M IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 4 / M/.A 4& 1.0 I.I 125 13.2 2.5 ui MS M 12.0 m. 1.4 1^ 1.6 c*: >P^ V] <^^ ^' M ¥.^-^i o^, Photographic Sciences Corporation ■^ T^ -/Q \ ^ ^ ^?* ^^ ^ f\. ^ VJ %^- 3J (v'EST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14&80 (716) 872-4503 0^ # ' I'll tell how we routed the squadrons in fight. And destroyed them all at " Talavera," And then 1 11 just add, how we finished the night. In learning to dance the " bolera ;" How by the moonshine, we drank rael wine, And rose next day fresh as a daisy; ;ej some one will cry, with a look mighty sly, Arrah, Mickey— now? can't you be asy ?" Youn ?r. •e, 187 Pli tell how the nights with Sir Arthur we spent, Around a hi? fire in the air too, Or may bo enjoying ourselves in a tent, Exacily like Don ny brook fair too ; How he,d call out to me — ' Pass 1 he wine Mr. Free, For you're a man never is lazy !" Then some one will cry, with a wink of her eye, •' Arrah, Mickey deax— can't you be any ?" 1 11 tell, too, the long years in fighting we passed, Till Mounseer asked Bony to lead him ; And Sir Arthur, grown tired of glory at last, Begged of one Mickey Free to succeed him. " But, acushla," says I, '• the iruth is I'm shy ^ There's a lady in Baliynacrazy !'' " And 1 swore on the book—" h^ -^avo me a look. And cried, Mickey—" 7iow ca.i't you be asy ?'' '-■ C. Lever. AULD NANNIE CRUMMIE. When auld Nannie Crummie and I crap thegither, Amid the lang dearth, in the cauld winter weather. Folk jeering me, swore her as auld as my mitlier, An'ca'd me an ass to be tied to her tether, I heard a' their sneering, as mim as a dumbie, An' could tholed muckle mair for my auld Nannie Crummie. The winter was cauld, an' my cleedin' was thin, 1 couldna weel work, an' I couldna weel win', I had little without, 1 had little wiihin, I had wearied the frammit, an' herriet my kin,— An', oh ! the blue reek wimplin' frae the wud-Iummie Led me by the nose to my auld Nannie Crummie. I pree'd her fat bree, an' I felt me sae couthie That, fiiin to pree mair, 1 e'en pree'd her wee mouthie ; Young jilts whiles gae dafl, but auld maids are aye toothie An' like food to the hungry, or drink to the drouthie, Were love an' a hame to a loun like a hummie, An' I meet wi' them bailh irae my auld Nannie Crum- mie. I H 1^' If: J88 wL^ h.Ti'^rfVPP'^ "'^'"l^ '^""^ ^''""^ ^'^"^ the main, Au'\^' left hame a callant, on' Nanny a wran ' Rm rtTM !''' ""^^ ^""y^'y '^^^k ''"''g^ on the plain But I haikit him wee an' wad do it ai?ain. ^ ' The auld vvither'd bodie was dry as a mummy, He neer could ha'e fattened wP auld NannVe Crum^ line* Though we ha'ena a weanie to scart our meal hm^ie, Yet JNanse has a cattle, an^ I hae a do£?^ie • ^ ' And tho fhey whiles yaumer an' youffowre their co^gie Ye il no fin' twa tptums that cuddle mair vogic "^ ' W bawling the charms o' my auld Nannie Crummie. James Ballantine. MARY GRAY. And that in this world we'll see her never feome say she is laid on her cold death bed, A 1 .u ^^f^ "^^^.^ ^^^''e ^"^ of death for ever ' A 7?y f now little of my dear maid, Ur kindness of her spirit's Giver ; t or every niijht she is by my side,— By the morning bovver, or the moonlig't river. iViy Mary was bonny when she was here, When flesh and blood was her mortal dwellinsr Her smile was sweet, and her mind was clear And her form all virgin forms excelling. lir^V l^ ^^^^y ^^^ ™y ^^ ary now, With her looks of pathos and of feeling, 1 hey wou d see a cherub's radiant brow 1 ravish mortal eyes unveiling. The rose is the fairest of earthly flowers, It IS all of beauty and of sweetness,— fco my dear maid in the heavenly bowers, tLxcels in beauty and in meekness ! am, ain, lie Cruni- coggic, drummie, Crummie. itiiie. er. Iling ; 189 She has kiss'd my cheek, she has kaim'd my hair And made a breast of heaven my pillow • ' And promised her God to take me there ' Before the leaf falls from ihe willow ! Farewell ! ye homes of living men— 1 have no relish for your pleasures ; In the human face 1 naethini? ken That with my spirit's yearning measures. 1 long for onward bless to be, A day of joy- a brighter morrow : And from this bondage to be free,— Pe-rewell this world of sin and sorrow ! James Hogg, THE SKY LARK. Bird of the wilderness, Blithesome and cumberless, Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea ' U to abide in the desart with thee ' Wild is thy lay, and loud, Far in the downy cloud, Love dves it energy, love gave it birth. Where, on thy dewy wing, Where art thou journeying ? Thy lay is in heaven, and thy Tove is on earth. 0|er fell and fountain sheel, O er moor and mountain green, O er the red streamer that heralds the day. ^ Over the cloudlet dim, Over the rainhows' rim. Musical cherub, soar, singing away ! Then, when the gloaming comes, Low in the heather blooms Sweet willihy welcome and bed of love be ' Lmblem of happiness, Blest is thy d welling-])lace ,— O to abide in the desert with thee ! James I'ogg. M H S M 190 AN ARABIAN SONG. Mket me at even, my own true love, JVleet me at even my own, true love, Where the moonbeam revealing The cool fountain stealing, Away and away Through flow'rt'ts so gay, Singing its silver roundelay. Love is the fountain of life and blisfss, Love is the valley of joyiulness ; A garden of roses, Where rapture reposes, — A temple of light A 11 heavenly bright ; O' virtuous love is the soul's delight ! James Hogg, s SERENADE. Awake I—the starry midnight hour Hangs charmed, and pau^eth \n its ^ight ; In its own sweetness sleeps the flower, And the doves lie husned in deep delight . Awake ! awake I Look forth, my love, for love's sweet sake ! Awake ! — soft dews will soon arise From daisied mead, and thorny brake ; Then, sweet, uncloud those eastern eyes. And hke the tender morning brake : Awake ! awake I Dawn forth, my love, for love's sweet sake ! Awake !— awake, within the musk rose bower 1 watch pale flower of love, for thee ; Ah, come and show the starry hour What wealth of love thou hidest from me Awake I awake ! Show all thy love, for love'a sweet sake I L^;a 191 Awake !— ne'er heed, thouofh lisecninff niffbt bteal music from thy silver voice • Uncloud thy beauty rare and bright And bid the world and me rejoice ' Awake ! awake ! She comes, at laat for love's sweet sake ! Prbcter LIFE. ^_^ are born ; we laugh, we weep, We love, we droop, we die ? Ah ! whorefore do we lans^h, or weep ?— Why do we hve or die ? Who knows that secret deep '^— Alas, not I ! Why doth the violet spring Unseen by human eye 1 Why do the radiant seasons brinff bweet !houi?hts that quickly fly ? Why do our fond hearts cUnff To things that die 7 ^^r^^i!"~"^^^<^"^f^ P^in and wronff : We fi?ht, and fly ; ^' We love we lose—and then, ere lorn ofone dead we lie. O life I is all thy son" ** Endure and-die?" Procter. UPON THY TRUTH RELYING. They say we are too young to iove,— - Too wild to be united ; ^'^ scorn they bid us both renounce rhe fond vows we have plighted. 1 hey send thee forth to see the world, 1 hy love by absence trying ; Then go : for f can smile farewell,— Upon (hy truth relying. »&, m li^^ u * II 1 i 192 1 know that Pleasure's hand wiil throw Wersilkeiineis about fhee ; 'Pk^^i '^ 'onesomc I shall find Ihelon^r long days without thee- But m thy letters there'ii be joy ; iM. 1 • rt'ad>ns,-the replying? : 1 Jl kiss eacli word that's traced by thce,- Upoii thy truth relying. ' When friends applaud thee, I'll sit bv, In silent rapture gazing : D ' ?^ •' !"^^^ P**^"^ of being loved By her they have been praising ! But should Detraction breathe thy name 1 he world's reproof defying : I d love thee,~Iaud thee.-trust thee still,- Upon thy truth relying. ' E'en those who smile to see us part, ^^ bhall see us meet with wonder • C5uch trials only make the heart ' I hat iruely loves grow fonder *-^"J-^«rrows shall be our pride, When wiih each other vying ■ I hou wilt confide in him, who lives Upon thy trutli relying. j^ayly, THE BROKEN HEART. Now lock my chamber door, father And say you left me sleepin*^ • ' But never tell my step-mother^ ' Of all this bitter weepin"-. No earthly sleep ran ease my smart Or even while reprieve it ; h or there's a pang at my young heart 1 hat never more can leave it ! O, let mo lie, and weep my fill ^'er wounds that heal can never ; And O kind Heaven ! were it thy will 1 close these eyes for ever : ' 1^3 For how can maid's aflections dear Recall her love forsaken 7 Or how can heart of maiden bear 1. know that heart forsaken ? O, why should vows so fondly made. Be broken ere the morrow— To one who loved as never maid Loved in this world of sorrow ! 1 he look of scorn I cannot brave Nor pity's eye more dreary : A quiet sleep within the grave la all for which 1 weary ! Farewell, dear Yarrow's mountains ^reen. And banks of broom so yellow! " w- ?P^^y ^^^^ ^^^s ^'osom been Within your arbours mellow. 1 hat hap pines is fled for aye. And all is dark despondino-— bave in the opening gates of day, And the dear home beyond them ' n I HAD A HAT, I tlAD NAE MAIR. I HAD a hat, I had nae mair, I gat it frae the hatter ; Ae ni^h? T''^'^' ?^^u«^"J^ »^i^ bare, Ae night when on the batter ; And sae 1 thocht me on a plan : Whereby to mend thematter- J list turn at ance a sober man. And tak to drinking water. i^/y plan 1 quic!dy put in force, re. stuck till't most sincerely, ^5i?rI^l".vemygigandho;se, And hae an income yearly. N I 1. 'J II I J 194 But. had I still kept boozing on, '1 wa'd been anithcr malter, My credit, cash, and clacs had gone^ In tatter aQer tatter. My wife, perhaps, a w/irtUess pest, iVly weang half-starved and uuddy ; And I, mysel', at very best, Gaun wi' an auld coal cuddio ^ Wi* scarce a stick in a' the house, Or spoon, or bowl, or pJaiter, Or milk, or meal, to feed a mou«e, Or blanket save a tatter. Now, Gude be praised, I've peace o* mio<]> Clear hand and health o' body, A thrifty wifie, cosh and kind. And bairnies plump and ruddy. Hence, Pd advise ilk weirdless wight, Wha likes the gill- stout's clatter, To try my plan this very night, And tak to drinking water* Alex* Rodgtr. 1 MET TWA CRONIES. I MET fewa cronies late yestreen, Wham blythe I've aft been wi'; And ilkatinind soon felt inclined To taste the barley-bree : We sal sae late, and drank sae deep. I'hat roai*a' fou gat we ; And haiih ! 1 found, when I gaed bame, My wife had ta'en the gee. All lanely by the fire she sat, Her brows hung owre her e^e; And wisifu' hush'd she aye the bairn, Though sleeping on her knee — I sav; the storm was masking fast, That iL^oon wad fa' on me : Sae quietly slipt I aff to bed. And left her in the gee. !iM.Ji iiod> «r. Rodgir. »g> 195 Neist daj her looks wero sour and sad, And ne'er a word spak she j But aye the teardrap galher'd bi| And dimm'd her bonnio e'e ; ^T* iv" ^^ *^^^'^' \s\\dLVi past let gan^, And frown nae inair on me, The like a^ain J'Jl never i\o, Gin ye'll ne'er tak the gee !'* When this she heard, her brows she raised. And tlown beside me bat ; I kiss'd her, fcr her heart was ii\ And, puir wee thing ! she grt t : auo' she "Gin ye'Ii but keep yt-ur word. And bide at hanic wi' me — Hae, there's my han'. that, while I live, I'll never tuk' the gee !" Then let us ca', and pay our drap, And toddle while we do : For gin we drink anither bowl We'll a' get roarin fou' ; Mv wifie's smile is aye sae kind, When biyihe or pleased is she, lo anger her waJ be a sin, Or gar her tak' the gee ! IRISH LOVE SONG. Oh 1 what a beautiful bit of mortality. Sweet Ji% O^PHnig:an ig uKt3 me ; / ?,^.^^fr ^'"^'S?^ ^*'v»vi her iineelfc i^aljty, 1 he like of my Judy I jieirer sjiall s «eat 1i 196 O smile on mCi Judy ! -with some partiality, For the brains in my skull hav^ been all set a-jcc ; Else 1 soon shall be dead, that's an end to vitality, Broken-hearted and murder'd, your Paddy will be ! And pray, where the deuce, did yo get your morality ? Would you like your poor Paddy to hang on a tree 7 Sure, Judy, tiiat would be a bit of rascality, While the daws and the crows would be pecking at me ! O name but the day, without more brothera/i^T/, Then the happiest of mortals your Paddy will be ; Ere a year will go round, ye'll have more mothcrality, And that the whole town of Killkenny will see ! Then we'll laugh, dance, and sing with true conviviaUty, V/hile the rafters would ring to the noise of our spree ; And our hearts will be beating with congeniality, When Judy and Paddy they married shall be ' Oh what a beautiful bit of mortality. Sweet Judy O'Flannigan is unto me ; The world must allow her angelic reality, The like of my Judy 1 never shall see ' finis: 197 jcc ; ill be ! ralify 7 X tree 7 ng at me ! I be ; rality, !e! nvivialiij, ir spree ; » CONTENTS. PAGE. A ship, a ship, a gallant ship ' • iO At Boston one day as the Chesapeake lay 19 A jolly fat friar lov'd liquor good store • • 24 A baby was sleeping • •^'j All in the Downs the fleet lay moor'd 43 A steed , a steed of matchless speed G7 An ill-decdy limmcr is Halkerton's cow. 96 Alone to the banks of the dark rolling Danube* • • 113 And are ye sure the news is true 133 A' the lads o' Thornic Bank 135 Asa beam o'er the face of the waters 142 A sailor's life 's a life of woe 147 Av I was a monarch in state, 17G Awake ! the starry midnight hour 190 Bonnie lassie, will ye go • 47 Blow, Boreas, blow, and let thy surly winds- - • • • G4 Bad luck to this marching, (Lever) lOl Bright be the place of thy soul 170 Believe me, if all those endearing young charms- •• 172 Be honors whicli to Kings we give-' • 180 Bird of the wilderness. 1^9 , kC J 198 A it 'I hi PAGE. Come o'er the sea 52 Come a song, a glad song 92 Curlers gae hame. 95 Come buy ray cherries 130 Did ye hear of the Widow Maione • • • Drink to her, who long 51 Duncan Gray came here to woo 5tJ Don't talk to me of London Dames, (Lever") 102 Down in the valley come meet me to night 118 Faintly as tolls the evening chime 14 From thee Eliza, I must go 24 From the brown crest of Newark 74 Fare thee well, my friend and father ^ 100 Fly not yet, (Moore,).. - 104 Fill the goblet again 166 God bless our lovely Clueen I Go patter to lubbers and swabs, do you see 38 Green grow the rashes, O ! 42 Go where glory waits thee • * • • 49 Hark ! comrades hark ! the evening gun 15 He comes from the wars 25 Had 1 in the clear 61 Huzza ! Hodgson, we are going 86 Huzza for England ! — may she claim. 98 How delicious is the winning. 116 He is gone! he is gone ! 159 Hout awa', Johnny, lad !. 184 PAGE. 52 92 95 130 G 51 5t> 102 118 14 24 74 100 104 166 I 38 42 49 15 25 61 86 98 116 159 184 199 ■pi r*p I've wandrr'd east, Pve wander'd west 2 I saw thy form in youthful prime 29 I saw from the beach, \y]\en the morning was shining.. 30 I gaed a waefu' gate yestreen 55 In a soft simmer gloamin' G6 1 never yet own'd a horse or hound- • 81 I was the boy for bewitching 'em 1 12 1 enter thy garden of roses. iGT It's little for glory 1 care J78 I would not have thee dry the tear. 179 I had a hat, 1 had nae mair 193 I met twa Cronies I94 Irish love song 195 Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang gleii • • 21 Loud roar'd the dreadful thunder 46 Lovely maiden, art thou sleeping, 64 Lesbia hath a beaming eye, (Moore) 1 05 Let us haste to Kelvin grove. 130 Let feckless chields • }49 Meet me by moonlight alone 26 Mary, 1 believed thee true. 29 My boat is on the shore 89 My heart's in the Highlands 136 My mither men't my auld breeks. 182 Meet me at even 190 Not a drum was heard not a funeral note 2^ Now lock my chamber door, father. 192 'i m 200 PAGf; O for the merry moonlight hour • • • ... ..... 4 Oh ! why left I my hame 11 On Abraham shone nor moon nor star 16 One night came on a hurricane 23 O' leave the gay and festive scenes 27 Oft, in the stilly ni,?ht 30 Our country is the land we love. 48 Oh for the swords of former time 53 Oh ! Willie brew'd a peck o' maut 55 Oh ! an Irishman's heart is as stout as shillelah. • • • 58 Our May had an e'e to a man 65 Oh ! ken ye his reverence, Minister Tam ? 77 O follow her not ! O follow her not ! 79 Oh ! lady, look forth from thy bower- • • • 82 Oh, say notj my love 86 O Kngland, dear home 91 Of a' the games that e'er 1 saw 92 Oh ! here let my home be 97 Oh, how hard it is to find 114 Oh ! had we some bright little isle-. 1 17 Oh ! breathe not his name 119 Oh ' weep for the hour. 120 Our bugles sang truce 123 Oh ! love is the soul of a neat Irishman. 124 On the banks of Allan water 131 O Poortith cauld 136 One midsummer morning 137 O wilt thou go wi' me. 138 Och ! while I live, I'll ne'er forget 163 Oh ! once we were illigint people ^ 171 PAGf; 4 ]1 16 23 27 30 48 53 55 58 65 77 79 82 86 91 92 97 114 117 119 120 123 124 131 136 137 138 163 171 201 Oh, 'tis sweet to think ^'*^^' Our sport is with the salmon rod! .' * " * .' ." .* * * .' .' '[ '" lil Oh what stories I'll tell " ,^f Ib6 Robin is my only JQ. ^3^ Should auld acquaintance be forgot 33 Stand to your guns my hearts of oak fjo Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled C3 borne foolish ladies will have men 7^^ Shall the warrior rest o^ So, we'll go no more a roving .....[ qo Sail on, sail on [ Star that bringest home the bee ,.... 1 1 o She is far from the land • [[][' j gn Sing! sing! music was given. .....'.*.' 100 St. Patrick, they say , * ^J. Some lo'e the spring when laverocks sing' ' • ' * '. ' * .* 155 Spanking Jack was so comely ! ^qq Sons of the Greeks, arise " " |gg Some say that Mary Gray is dead .!'.*.!.' igy There's joy in the Lowlands and Highlands 5 The Groves of Blarney they are so charming i2 1 IS the last rose of summer-- 21 True love can ne'er forget ..*..".* 3^ The hour 1 pass with thee my love \, 35 ^Twas Saturday night, the twinkling stars 40 Twas even-the dewy fields were green. 44 J. here IS not in the wide world a valley so sweet • • 50 J hou ling'ring star with less'ning ray. 54 They may rail at the city where first 1 was born- • . q^ m w 202 PAGE. "The Sea! the Sea ! (a parody) • • • • 71 To horse ! to horse 1 the standard flies T^ The moon snone calmly bright •"• "78 The Pope, he leads a happy life - 81 'Twas a Marechal of France 84 There be none of Beauty's daiighters 90 The harp that once through Tara's halls, (Moore) 104 Tho' dark are our sorrows ^ 106 Through Erin's Isle ••• 107 The Minstrel boy. 109 Tomorrow, comrade, we. HI There came to the beach •••• HI To Love in my heart, 1 exclaimed 115 Take back, take back the vow you gave 119 This life is all chequer'd, 121 The Laird o» Cockpen. 132 There was a lass ! 135 To me, my sweet Kathleen. 143 'Twas business requir'd 144 •Tis said we vent'rous die-hards 145 'Twas in the good ship Rover 146 The music of the year is hush'd • • • 1 55^ Tho' winter's come, nae frosty winds l56 The bloom hath left thy cheek- • - 157 The grass is wet with shining dews « 158 That girl who fain would choose a mate 161 The Boatswain calls 162 There's not a joy the world can give 169 They say that Hope is happiness 171 The dawning of morn • 174 203 -, , . , PiGB. To dnnk a toast ., 1.75 Then fare you well, oulJ Erin dear- •• |. .►.. ...... 176 The Picquets are fast retreating boys*. 1 78 There was a Lady lived at Leiih • . • l8l They say we are tao young to love • I9i Up with our native banner hi^h 69 Up, up, 'lis time, that matin chime, (voyageur song) 97 Wee stuiTy, stumpy, dumpy laddie • 8 When by the evening's quiet light 15 When we two parted. 23 Whea 'midst the gay 1 meet 31 Who'll serve the Ctueen 1 41 Will ye go the Indies, my Mary 66, We twined our lovin' hearts in ane. 79' Waken lords and ladies gaiy* •. •. » 83 Wharecam' the guineas frae 93 Woodman, spare that tree, (Morris) 99 When Napoleon was flying 109 When Love came first to Earth 114 When the battle is o'er. 117 Withdraw not yet. 123 When 1 was a Mi!lerin Fife. 125 When I iiv'd in sweet Ballinacrazy 141 White winter on ilk hill and plain 151 When bird's and wimpling burns are dumb 153 ^ When beauty, youth and innocence 164 Whena'hher bairnies.... 165 Wheid is the slave so lowly 173 20* PAGP What an illigant life a Friar leads- • 177 Why walk 1 by the lonely strand.. « 179 W hen auld Nannie Crummie. ^ 187 We are born, we laugh, we weep 191 Ye Mariners of England 20 Ye banks and braes and streams around 32 Young Rory 0' More 37 Ye banks and braes 0' bonnie Doon 47 I ASMOUR & Ramsay have always on hand, a large collection of Books in the different departments of Literature and Science, and a stock of Superfine and Fine Writing Papers, Account Books, &c., which they sell at moderate prices. Job Printing and Bookbinding executed with nealnesfl and despatch, PAGE. •• 177 •• 179 •• 187 .. 191 .. 20 •. 32 • • 37 ... 47 3 collection raiure and e Writing ey sell at 'atnesfl and