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Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 32 X 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 THE 9 9 BEING A CHOICE SELECTION ov POPULAR SONGS, ©Itj anlj KtJn— Comfc anS J5fnWmtntal. SECOND EDITION. TORONTO: PEINTBD FOR THE COMPILER, BY liOVEIiL 4 QIB?Q>f. 1858. hit: 'r.-j.<.i'- l£s£ ! tS'aOii :■■ NOTICE. O Ji- In preparing the following collection, the Compiler baa aimed at making such a selection aa will suit the moat varied taste, inserting no songs but those of standard excellence, from the most popular works of the day, and such as are likely to be appreciated by the generality of Vocalists. The notes cppeuded to eome of the songs, he hope, will be found useful and entertaining. CONTENTS. rAoa Alice Ovey 12 All's Well 20 Annie Laurie 18 Auld Robin Gray 84 A Oil 1, a Bumper, and a Friend 87 Begone Dull Care 16 Bay of Biscay, O' ! 22 Banks of Allan "Water 44 Bruce'3 Address 45^ Blue Bonnets over the Border 46 Bonnie Prince Charlie 68 Black Turf 68 Bonny Wood of Crngie Lea 10 Canailian Boat Song *J Calf Love — A Scottish Recitation 43 Cheer, Boyp, Cheer 60 Caller Herrin' 67 Do not Mingle 41 Exile of Erin, The 28 Female Smuggler 49 Gloomy Winter's now Awa' 42 Groves of Blarney 61 Get Up and Bar the Door 68 Home, Sweet Home 28 Helen's Bower f}2 I'mAfloat! TmAfloat! 2 Isle of Beauty 16 I'll Remember Thee 26 Jessie, the Flower o' Dumblane 66 John Anderson, My Joe 57 Jeaanie May 61 Kathleen O'More 20 Logie o' Buchan 86 Lucy's Flittin' 47 Loohnagar 8 rAca M eetinjj of the WaterB g My Native Hii^'hland Home 14 My Heart's in the Highlanda 88 Meet me by Moonlight 46 Norah, the Pride of Kildarc 23 Oh I Dinna ask me gin I Lo'o Ye 10 Of a' the Airts 13 Oh ! "Why left I my Hame 16 Oh! Are ye Sleeping Maggie 19 Old England we'll Defend 40 Paddy Hnggai'ty 64 Rule Britannia t. ...... . 26 Ked, White, and Blae 62 Steer my Bark to Erin's Isle 10 She is far from the Land 17 Some Love to Roam 29 She wore a Wreath of Roses 82 Smile again my Bonnie Lassie 68 The Anchor's Weighed 11 Tho' you leave nie now iu Sorrow 24 There was a Lad was born in Kyle 26 The Land of the Brave and the Free 27 The Land o' the Leal 28 Tak' your auld Cloak about ye 80 The last Rose of Summer 31- The Ladies' Darling 35 The Soldier's Tear 89 The Scottish Blue Bells ". 89 The Flowers of ihe Forest 41 The Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Doon 66 The Highland Minstrel Boy 68 Trust to Luck 69 The Lass o' Gowrie 69 The Land o' Cakes 60 The Pilot 65 The Pope 66 The Lish Duel 71 White Squall, The 9 When thy BoFom heaves a Sigh, (Catch) 21 Wae's me for Prince Charlie 88 Widow Machree 48 ,1 rioM . THE TORONTO SONGSTER, AND ^mlhh €mpmn. CANADUN BOAT SONG. A Glee for three voices. Composed a.id arranged by Moore, Faintly as tolls the evening chime. Snn.7„°''fi' ""'^P !''°^' ^"^ «'"• oarn keep Ume ; Soon as the woods on shore look dim. Well «ng at Saint Ann's our parting hymn. Row. brothers, row. the stream runs fusf. Ihe rapids are ner: ^od the dayhght's past! Why should we yet our sails unfurl f There is not a broath the blue waves to curl • But when the w nd blows off the shore. ' Oh I sweetly we 11 rest our weary oar. ' Blow breezes, blow, the stream runs fast, Ihe rapids are near, and the daylight's past I Ottawa's tide ! this trembling moon Saint of this green i.le ! hear our piaver« Oh ! grant us cool heavens nn.l fa\^ourir.- .,ir TW;n/T''* ^''^^' ^^« stream "runs fu^t.' ' Ihe lapid s are near, and the daylight's past I 8 LOCH-NA-GARIi. Near Loch-na-Karr, Byron spent some of the early part of liis life, the recollection of which gave birth to these stanzas, ono of our modern tourlsta mentions it as the hiffhcst mountain in Britain. Bo this as it may, it is certainly one of the most sub- lime and picturesque amongst our " Caledonian Alps." Its ap- pearance Is of dusky hue, but the summit is the seat of eternal snow. Away, ye gay landscapes, ye garden of roses, In you let the minions of luxury rove ; Restore me the rocks where the snow flake reposes, If still they are eacred to freedom and love. Yet Caledonia, beloved are tliy mountains, Round their white sumits tho' elements war, The' cataracts foam 'stead of smooth flowing fountains., I sigh for the valley of dark Loclina-garr. A.h ! there ray young footsteps in infancy wandered ; My cap was the bannet, my cloak was the plaid: On chleftans departed my memory pondered, As daily I strayed through the pine-covered glade. I sought not ray home 'till the day's dying glory Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star ; For fancy was cheeretl by traditional story, Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch-na-garr. Shades of the dead 1 have I not heard yom* voices Rise ou the night-rolling broatb of the gale? Surely fhe soul of the hero rejoices, And rides ou the wind o'er his own Highland dale. Round Loch-na-^arr, while the storm mist gathers, Winter presides in his cold icy car ; Clouils thei'o encircle the forms of my futhera. They uwell 'mid the tempests of dark Loch-na.garr. 9 THE MEETING OF THE WATERS. Mooro. Thkrk is not in tlila wide world n. viill(>y so sweet, Aa the vale in whoso bosom tho hrii^lit wiitors moot ; Oh ! the la'it rays of fooling and lifo iinist doport, Ere the bloom of that valley sh; 'i fado from my heart. Yet it was not that Niitnro had shed n'or the scene Her purest of ciystiil, and ItrifjliteHt of green, 'Twas not the soft magic of streamlet or hill, — Oh, uo !— it was something more exquisite Btill. 'Twaa that friend?, the beloved of my bosom, were near ■\Vhoniade every dear pceno of cnchantmet)t more dear, And who felt how the host chnruH of nature improve, When we see them reflected from looks that wo love. Sweet vale of A vooa ! how ealm could I rest In thy bosom of shade, with tho fri('nd« I love best, Where the storms which wo feel in this cold world should cease, And our hearts, like thy waters, bo Tnioglcd in peace 1 THE WHITE SQUALL. Composed by George Barker, Esquire. The sea was bright, and the bark rodo well, The breeze bore tho tone of tho vesper boll— •Twas a gallant bark, with a crew as bravo As ever launched on the heaving wave- She shone in the light of declining day. And each sail waa set, and each heart wag gny. They neared tho land, wherein beauty smiles The sunny shores of the Clrocinn Itilea ; All thought of homo, and tho welcome dear Which soon should greet each wanderer's ear, And in fancy joined the social throng. In the festive dance, and tho joyous song. 10 A white oloud glides through the azure sky,— What means that wild despairing cry ? Farewell the visioned scenes of home — That cry is help, where no help can come, For the white squall rides on the surging wave, And the bark is gulpbed in an ocean grave. OH, STEER MY BARK TO ERIN'S ISL^. Written by Thomas Haynes Bayly, Esq. Music by S. Nelson. Oh, I have roara'd in many lands, And many friends I've met ; Not one fair scene or kindly smile, Can this fond heart forget. But I'll confess that I'm content, No more I wish to roam, Oh, steer ray bark to Erin's isle, For Erin is my home. Oh, steer my bark to Erin's isle, <&c If England were my place of birth, I'd love her tranquil shore ; If bonny Scotbnd was my home, Her mountains I'd adore. Tho' pleasant days in both Tve 8pent> I dream of days to come. Oh, steer my bark to Erin's isle, For Erin is my home. Oh, steer my bark to Erin's isle, <&e. OH I DINNA ASK ME GIN I LCE YE. This Song was written to the old Air of " Gin a Body meet a Body " by a Mr. Dunlop. Oh I dinna ask me gin I lo'e thee, Trotti I daurna tell ; Dinna Esk me gin I lo'e ye ; Aek it o' yoursel. 11 " ). Oh ! dinna look sae sair at me ; For weel j'e ken me true ; Oh, gin you look sae sair at me, I daurna look at you. An' when ye gang to yon braw toun, And bonnier las^ses see, O, Jamie 1 dinna look at thcra, For fear ye mind na me. For I could never bide the lass, That ye'd lo'e mail- than me ; And O, I'm sure my heart would break, Gin ye'd prove false to me. THE ANCHOR'S WEIGHED. Music by Mr. Braham. The tear fell gently from her eye, When last we part d on the shore, My bosom heaved with many a sigh, To think I ne'er might see her more. Dear youth, she cried, and can'st thou haste away? My heart will break — a little moment stay ; Alas ! I cannot — cannot part from thee, The anchor's weighed— farewell 1 farewell 1 remember me. Weep not, my love, I trembling said ; Doubt not a constant heart like mine : I ne'er can meet another maid Whose charms can fix my heart like thioe. Go, then, she cried, but let thy constant mind Oft think of her thou leav'st in tears behind ; Dear maid — this last embrace my pledge shall be. The anchor's weighed — farewell 1 farewell ! remember me. 12 ALICE GREY. She's all my fancy painted ber, She's lovely, she's divine: But bar heart it is another's, She never can be mine. Yet loved I as man never loved, A love without decay ; — Oh ! my heart — my heart is breaking For the love of Alice Grev. Her dark brown bair is braided o'er A brow of spotless white ; Her soft blue eye now lauguisbes — Now flashes with delight ;— Her hair is braided not for me, Her eye is turned away I — Yet my heart — my heart is breaking For the love of Alice Grey. I've sunk beneath the summer's sua. And trembled in the blast ; But my pilgrimage is nearly done ; The wearv conflict's paat. And when the green sod wraps ray grave, May Pity haply say, Oh I his heart — his heart was broken For the love of Alice Grey. i I'M AFLOAT 1 I'M AFLOAT! ■Words by Eliza Cook. Composed and sung by Houry RussoU. I'm afloat ! I'm afloat on the fierce rolling tide, The ocean's my home and my bark is my bride ; Up, up with my flag, let it wave o'er the sea, I'-jT afloat 1 I'm afloat, and the Rover is free. I fear not the monarch, I heed not the law, I've a compass to steer by, a dagger to draw ; And ne'er as a coward or slave will I kneel, "While my guns carry shot, or my belt wears the steel. 13 , Quick, quick trim her sail, let the ehcet kiss the wind And I'll wnrrant we'll soon leave the seagulls behind Up, up with my flng, let it wave o'er the sea, I'm afloat ! I'm afloat 1 and the Kover is free. The night gathers o'er U9, the thunder is heard, "What matter, our vefsel pkims on like n bird ; "What to her is the dash of the storm-iidden main, She has brav'd it bcfoi'e, and will brave it again. The fire-gleaming flashes around us may fall, They may strike, they may cleave, but they cannot appHl ; With lightnings above ne, and darkness below. Through the wild waste of waters right onward we go. Hurrah 1 my brave comrades, ye may drink, ye may sleep. The storm fiend is huph'd we're alone on the deep. Our flag of defiance still waves o'er the Fca, I'm afloat! I'm afloat ! and the Rover is free. I'm afloat ! I'm afloat 1 &o. O' A' THE AIRTS THE WIND CAN BLAW. Burns' complimentai'y song to his bonnie Jean. O' a' the flirts the wind can blaw, I dearly lo'e the west, For there the bonnie lassie lives, The lass that 1 lo'e best : Let wild woods grow, and rivers row. Wi' niony a hill between ; Baith day nnd night my fancy's flight Is ever wi' my Jean. I see her in ilka dewy flower, Sae lovely, fresh, and fair: I hear her voice iu ilka bird, Wi' music charm the air ; ;yil 14 There's not a bonnie flower that spHngg By fountain, sliaw, or given, Nor yet a bonnie bird that sings, But miuds lue o' my Jean. Oh blaw, ye westlin' winds, blaw sarft Amang the leafy trees, Wi' gentle breath, frae muir and dale Bring harae the laden bees ; And bring the lassie back to me That's aye sae neat and clean ; Ae blink o' her wad banish care, Sae lovely is my Jean. What sighs and vows, araang the knowes, Hae passed atween ^ twa 1 How blithe to meet, iiow wae to part, The d;iy she gaed awa ! The poAvers aboon can only ken, To whom the heart is seen. That nane can be sae dear to me Aa my sweet lovely Jean I MY NATIVE HIGHLAND HOME. Music by H. R. Bishop. My Highland home, where tempests blow, And cold thy wintry looks, Thy mountains crown'd with driveu snow, And ice-bounil are tliy brooks I But cohJer far the Briton's heart. However far he roam, To whom these words no joy impart, My native Highland home. Then gang wi' me to Scotland, dear; We ne'er again will roam; And with thy smiles so bonny, cheer My native Highland home-l 15 When summer comes, the heather bell Shall tempt thy feet to rove, Tlie eushet dove within the dell Invite to peace and love 1 For blytbsome is the breath of May, And sweet the bocnie bnoom, And i-are the dimpling riUs that play Ai^ound my Highland homel Then gang wi' me, Ac. ISLE OF BEAUTY. T. Hajnes Bayly. Music ^y C S. Whltemore. Shades ot ev'nrag eVjse not o'^r ua, Leave our lonely bark awhile ; Morn, alas 1 will not restore us Yonder dim and distant isle ; ©fill my fancy can discovfiir Sunny spots where friends may dwell: Darker shadows round us hover, Isle of Beauty, Fare-theewelL 'Tis tbe ^lour when happy faces Smile around the taper's light; Who will fill our vaicant places? Who will sing our songs to night! Thro' tbe mist that floats above us, Faintly sounds the Jresper bell, Like a voice from those who love u«, Breathiag fondly " Fare-thee-weU."* When the waves are rouad me breaking, As I pace the deck alone ; And my eye in vain is seeking Some 3veen spot to rest upon : What wottld I not give to wand* Where ray old companions dwell 1 Absence makes the heart grow fonder — Isle of Beauty, FAre-tihee-velL i 'Ml r;l OH, WHY LEFT I MY HAME. Words by B. Gilfillwi. Esq. Composed Iv P. M'Leod. Esq. Oh' Zl^ !^r! ? ??^ l'*''^' ^ . "^^y ^'" J I cross the deep f Oh. why left I the land where my forefathers Iwn/ I 8.gh for Scotia's sl^ore. and I gai across tie la ^ ^ But I canna get a blink o' my ain countrie. The palm-tree waveth high, and fair the myrtle sprinffa And to the Indian maid the bulbul sweetly snls^^' Nor hear the hntie's sang o' my ain countrie. Oh t here no Sabbath bell awakes the Sabbath mom Nor song of reapers heard amang the yelloTco^n ' For the tyrant's voice is here and f hp ^an f i ' • But the .u„ of freedom «Uaa?Si*lirl°4t""" gJe«a|ltpSE.r„f„t"'J'^S^^^^ BEGONE, DULL OARE! Author unknown. Arranged as a Dnefc. ^T""' ?"n^ ^^'^ ' ^ P^V tbee begone from me • Begone dull care thou and I can never ^rTe.' Long time hast thou been tarrying her^ T?nf " J T, *?",'? wooldest me killl iJut 1 faith I dull care, Thou never ehalt have thy will. Too much care will make a young man grey • And too much care will turn 'an old man to ^av My wife shall dance, and I will sing, ^* So merrily pass the day ; " For I hold it one of the wisest things, lo drive dull care away. T Jatt tho ^ Sb( u Bui 1 Sh( I Ah I 19 ROY'S WIFE. l^e%^^G.l^tTflS^^^ ascribed to the thorejja. -^"fcgan. mra. Urant of Carron was the Au- Koy'swifeof Aldivalloch, Roy'a wife of Aldivallocb, Wat ye how she cheated me, As I cam' o'er the braes of Balloch ? She vow 'd she swore she wad be mine ; She said she lo'ed me best o'onie- L^^ ' t^e fickle, faithless quean, She 8 ta en the carle, and left her Johunie. Key s wife, fko. 9* ®^6 ^»s a cantie quean, Weel could she dance the Highland walloch. How happy I, had she been mine, Or I been Roy of Aldivalloch. Roj's wife, Ac. Her hair sne fair, her een sae clear. ' ' Her w-ee bit mou' sae sweet and bonnie • io me she ever will be dear ' Though she's for ever left'her Johnnie. Roy's wife, &c. * 4 SHE IS FAR FROM THE LAND. Written by Thomas Moore. She is far from the land where her young hero sleena And lovers around her are sighinff • ^' But CO dly she turns from their ga4 and weeps For her heart in his grave is lyin? ^ ' She sings the wild songs of h 3r dear'native plains A^^,";-!"^ °°/^ ""^^'^ ^^ ^^^^'J awaking, P '' Ah I htt e they think, who delight in her strains How the heart of the minstrel is breaking l' ••* 18 He liad lived for his love, for his country he died Tbey were all that to life had entwined him • ' Nor soon shall tli« teai-s of his country be dried, Nor long will bis love stay behind him 1 Oh I make her a grave, when the sunbeams rest When they promise a glorious morrow; They'll shine o'er her sleep like a emilo, from the west, From her own loved island of sorrow 1 ANNIE LAURIE. T^ese verses were wntten by Mr. Douglas of Finland, upon Annie, one of the four daughters of Sir Robort Laurie, first baronet of Maxwelton. As Sir Itobert was created a baronet in the yrar 1685, it is supposed tliat these verses were composed about the end of the seventeenth century. It is painful to mention that notwithstanding the ardent and chivalrous affec- tion displayed by Mr. Douglas in his poem, he did not obtain C (k?'" h * ' ^^ married to Mr. Ferguson of Maxwelton braes are bonnie, When early fa's the dew And its there that Annie Laurie Gied me her pj-oraise true ; Gied me her promise true, Which ne'er forgot will be; And for bonnie Annie Laurie I'd lay me down and dee. Her brow is like the snaw-drift, Her throat is like the swan, Her face, it is the fairest That e'er the sun shone on ; That e'er the sun shone on, And dark blue is her e'e; And for bonnie Annie Laurie . I'd lay me down and dee. 1J> Like dew on the gowan lying, Is the fa' o' her fairy feet ; Am\ lilie the winds in summer sighing, Her voice is low and sweet; Her voice is low and sweet, Aad she's a' the world to me, And for bonnie Annie Laurie I'd lay me down and dee. O ARE YE SLEEPING, MAGGIE. Tannahill- Air, " Sleepy Maggie." ARE yo sleeping, Maggie ? O are ye sleeping, Magyie ? Let me in, for loud the linn Is roaring o'er the warlook craigie. Mirk and rainy is the night, No a 8tar in a' the carry, Lightnings gleam athwart the lift. And wi'' l9 drive wi' winter's fury. O are ye sleeping, Maggie, laMia« by Mr. Braham. Lono roar'cl the dicadful thunder • The rain iu dclugo showers : ' The clouds were rent asunder, B^ lightning's vivid powers': The night both drear and dark Our poor devoted bark, ' rhero she Uy, Till next day, In the Buy of Biscay, 1 Now dashed upon the billow, Our op'uing timbers oreik ; Each fears a watery pillow, None stop the dreadful leak I To cling to slipp'ry shrouds, Lach brciithloss seamao orowds As she lay, ' Till the day, In the Ba^- of Biscay, 1 At length the wished 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, 1 Her yielding timbers sever, Her pitchy seams are rent : When heaven all bou.Leous ever, Its generous succour sent I A sail in sight appears, We hail her with three cheers! Now we sail. With the gale. From the Bay of Biscay, 1 ■ Th r Fo: f Bu Foi Wl J Ofi 1 Bui i 83 NORAII, TnE nilDE OF KILDARE. As beauteoua as Flora la charnung yountf NornJi, Thojov of ^ my heart and tho prido of Klldaro I ne ev will deceive her. Fi- sadly 'twould gricvo lior, To auu that I sigh'd for anothor low fair • Iler heart with truth toerning, Her eyo with smiles heamirig, What mortal could injure a blosuoui ho rare As Norah, dear Norali, tho pride of Kildaro f "Where'er I may be, love I ^ I"ll ne'er forget thee, love I Tho beauties may smilo and try to ensnare. Yet nothing shall ever My heart from thine sever, Dear Norah, sweet Norah, tho pride of Kildare t Thy heart with truth teeming, Thy eye with smiles beaming, W.iat mortal could injure a bloHsonj ho rare As JVorah, dear Norah, the pride of Kildaro ? THE EXILE OF ERIN. Campbell. There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chil? For his country he sigh'd, when at twilight rcpairinir To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill 1 ^ But the day-star attracted his eye's sad devotion I'm- It rose on his own native isle of the ocean. Where once in the flow of his youthful emotion. He sung the bold anthem of Erin go bragh I ° ^l** '' ^Tl^^^ ' '"''^ ^''^ beartbrokon stranger, Ihe wdd deer and wolf to a covert can flee. A i °° ''®^"^® ^'*^"' famine and danger, A home and a country remain not for me. 24 Ah 1 never again in the greon shady boTvers, Where my forefathers lived shall I spend the sweet hours, Or cover my harp with the wild-woven flower?, And strike the sweet numbers of Erin go bragh 1 Oh, Erin I my country, though sad and forsaken, In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore ; But, alas 1 in a far foreign land I awaken, And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more. Oh ! cruel fate ! wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace, where no perils ciin chase me ? Oh I never again shall my brothers embrace me, They died to defend jne, or live to deplore. "Where is my cabin-door, fast by the wild wood f Sisters and sire did you weep for its fall 'i "Where is the mother that look'd on my childhood ? And where is the bosom-friend, deurer than all ? Oh, my sad soul 1 long abandon'd by pleasure. Why didst thou doat on a fust-fading treasure ? Tears, like the rain-drops, may fall without measure, But rapture and beauty they cannot recall. But yet all Its sad recollections suppressing, One dying wish ray fond bosom shall draw, Erin, an exile bequeathes thee his blessing. Land of my forefathers. Erin go bragh 1 Buried and cold, when my heart stills its motion. Green be thy fields, sweetest isle of the ocean. And thy harp-striking birds sing aloud with devotion, Erin mavourneen, Erin go bragh t THO' YOU LEAVE ME NOW IN SORROW. Tune— "Roy's Wife." Tho' you leave rae now in sorrow, Smiles may light our love to morrow ; Doom'd to part, my faithful heart A gleam of joy from hope shall borrow. Ah! ne'er forget, when friends are near. This heart alone is thine for ever ; Thou may'st find those will love thee dear. But not a love like mine, O never. Though you leave me now, «c. 25 RULE BRITAN>fIA. When Britain first at heaven's command, Arose from out the azure main, This was the charier, the charter of the land, And guardian angels sung the strain : Rule, Britannia, Britannia rules the waves, Britons never shall be slaves I The nations, not so blessed as thee, Must in their turn to tyrants fall, While thou shalt flourish great and free, The dread and envy of them all. Rule, Britannia, && Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke ; As the loud blast that rends the skies, Serves but to root thy native oak. Rule, Britannia, '' ''^«™ *" ^'^ herd on xier rainei a estate. She was born on the 8th December 17i5() fwir'^p'" n"*'? \" ^^♦^ *",'^"- A'»Jrow Barnard the hUimate friend of Dr. Johnson, and died at her residence in Berklv Square, London, on the 6th May, 1825. JicrKiy If Ti Sa W Ii 01 I( I( So ! I Young Jamie lo ed me weel, and sought me for his bride, ^ut saving a crown, he had uactliing else beside • lo make the crown a pound, luy Jamie went to aea, And the crown and the pound were baith for me. He had na been gane, but a year and a day, When mv father brak his arm, and our cow was stown awa ; My mither she fell sick, and aiy Jamie at the sea, And auld Robin Gray cam' a courting me. My father couldna work and my mither couldna spin. A *?J i ?y ^°^ "'S^*^*' ^"' their bread I couldna win. Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and with tears in his ee, Said Jenny, for their sake, marry me? My heart it said nay, for I look'd for Jamie back ; But the wind it blew hard, and his ship it was a wreck • Mis ship was a wrack, why didna Jamie dee ? And why was he spar'd to cry, wae is me ? My father urged me sair, my mither didna speak. But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break • They gied him my hand, though my heart was at the sea, So auld Robin Gray is a gudeman to me. I had na been a wife a week but only four. Whea mournfu' I sat on the stane at the door, 30 I saw my Jamie's gbalat for I couldna tbink it he, Till he said, I'm come hame love lo marry thee. Sair, sair did we greet, and muckle did wo say ; We took but ae kiss, and tivil for fighting, or eating a pig, Whi'e Father O'Leary, with his wig. Sit singing for his ilinner. But soon, you must know, I grew up a man, Then all my troubles at once began ; For I fell in love with one Kitty Mtgao, And that you'll own was a folly. 36 A Mow |?ot Kitty's heart Into n snnrc. My friends they tohJ h|,n to beware Ami swore they'd fight h,m at the f^ir, Sorantmg, gay, niKl jolly. Swearing, tearing, jlg^in^ away. Loving, ,i,,„king, all the dnv, Och sure th ere was the devil to par For I WU8 the ludie.' darling. ^ ^' LOGIE O' BUCHAN. Written h. ^^^r^^^!^,^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ G^ll'Sl^ltJlXi^'^-^ a dialogue l>otw.-,t of Cumberland on his marc S£ in. ,*''!' ^'^"''« "f the Duke was ofTored by him ft)r tho nori^ oJ \L*'r'' 'j"''''r«d pounds Mr. Ualkett died a natiual dS^u m& ^^^ ''^ "" '*"^*>'"*- ?. ^^«J« «; ?"chan, Logle the laird. >ming, eauld winter's awa', For Bunmer is comiu^. cau.a winter's awa' " And 1 11 come and see thee in spite o' them a'. O, Sandy has owsen, has gear and ha^ Let the proud Indian boast of his jessamine bowers m^^"'■'M'^P'.''^"'"'^ ^"'i rose covererdells ' S h ^T n^ 1 1°^ «f t^'^^^^ ^i''o^es8 who quells Ard dreadful your wrath ub the foam flaahinVfountain That calms its wild waves 'n.id the Scottish blue beTls! ^en strike the loud harp to the land of the river The mounlam, the valley with all their wild sodS Th« h^"iN^ ^^t ?'''"^^«'- «ver and ever ^ * Tho blue bells of Scotland, the Scottish blue bells 1 ' 40 Sublime are your hills when the younr, day is beamin,. And green are your groves with thei ° co^ crystar^efls And br^ht are your broadswords like mora n, A gleaming, "^wiuiu^ uews On blue bells of Scotland, on Scottish blue bells. Awake ! ye light fairies that trip o'er the heather Ye merma.ds arise from your coralline cells ' Ihe blue bells of Scotland, the Scottish blue'bellk Then strike the loud harp to the land of the river Ihemountam the valley, with all their w ild S And shout m the chorus for ever and ever ^ Ihe blue bells of Scotland, the Scottish blue bells OLD ENGLAND WE'LL DEFEND. Words by D.Wylie. Music by W. R. Salter. The voice of war comes on the wind. We hear its whisper nigh. And should our country ask our aid. V\ ill we refuse and fly ? ^.Britain bow to Jonathan, When Jonathan is wrong ? No, no, such dastard cowardice. lo England can't belong. Old England has a mother been And fostered us with care • In all our troubles-all our griefs, bhe 8 nobly borne her share. As children, then, oui- duty is, In answer to her crv, To swell the shout,-" f.,r England yet we 11 conquer, or we'll die." The deeds of Scotia's sons have aye Been sounded forth by fame. And Erin's trusty warriors Have gained a manial name 41 While Gaula deacendanta round us, In apathy -wont lie, But nobly join and swell the shout— "We'll for Old England die." United thus we may defy The haughty boast of those Whom ardently we seek as friends, Nor ask them as our foes ; But the spirit that's within us, To tyranny won't bend ; So, should war come, our watchword is- " Old England we'll defend." DO NOT MINGLE. Do not mingle one human feeling With the blisses o'er each sense stealing, While these tributes to me revealing My El?ino true to love. Ah 1 embrace me while thus forgiving, Each a pardor. is thus receiving. On the earth while we are living. We will form a heav'n of love. THE FLOWERS OP THE FOREST. Written by Mrs. Cockbum. I've seen the smiling of fortune beguiling I've felt all its favours and found its decay Sw^eet was its blessing, and kind its caressini ' But now it is fled, it is fled far away, rve seen the forest all adorned the foremost With flowers of the fairest, most pleasant and gav 1 So bonme wa^ their blooming, their scent the air perfuming But now they are withered and aU wede away. 42 I've seen the morning with gold the hilU adorning, And loud tempest before the mid-day; I've seen Tweed's silver streams, shining in the sunny beams. Grow druraly and dark as they rolled on their way. 0, fickle fortune, why is this cruel sporting, O, why still perplex us poor sons of a day ! No more your smiles can cheer me, no more' your frowns can iear me, For the flowers of the forest are all wede away. ! I GLOOMY WINTER.S NOW AWA' Tannaliill. Gloomy winter's now awa' Saft the westlin' breezes blaw ; 'Mang the birks o' Stanley-shaw The mavis sings fu' cheerie, O. Sweet the craw-flower's early bell Decks Gleaifler's dewy dell, Blooming like thy bonnie sel'. My young, my artless dearie, 0. Come my lassie, let us stray O'er Glenkilloch's sunny brae, Blythely spend the gowden day 'Midsi joya that never wearie, O. Towering o'er the Newton woods, Laverocks fan the snaw-white clouds ; Siller saughs, wi' downie buds, Adorn the banks sae brierie, O. Round the sylvan fairy nooks, Feath'ry braikens fringe the rocks, 'Neath the brae the burnie jouks, A.nd ilka thing is cheerie, O. Trees may bud, and birds may sing, Flowers may bloom, and verdure spring, Joy to me they canna bring. Unless wi* thee my dearie, O. orniDg, in the sunny their way. ii your frowns away. ^A' ids ; I •rtug, CALF LOVE: OB, THE LAIKD 0' LUGGIEHEADJON MARRIAGE. A SCOTTISH RECITATION, He's nae man ava ihc^'a ^^ • i either in the calf, ratlonf Li 'vi''? "°^^ '*" '»'s days, that I gang mad at ts the vLn? •^'l'^'^*« ' ^"^ '"*« no -the fiddlin' an' dancii^lIhe Io?°? 'i7 '^^^'^ '^^«"t it nicht-the makin'.ett trysts tori "?•",. "^V''°"««ks at the tae night - at«"en the ^S^'?,*''^ ?^^ lambin' I an' my dearia" 1 an' m vl ^^t'' ^^^ "^'«^ rny awa' ilka Sunday foTo^ra^^c e'nf'^'s": '~^?'"^'>^^ grossets, vowiu' eternal love and ^?/~'!?"'' P^"""^^ ^' them haudin' up their hanfl'<. nn/^*^^' ^^-'^ '^«« ruined guid the^ ken na^ething aSthem' ""''"'^' *^^ ^' '^-''^ thinJtotLf (5Jf/„J![;t|;j,t^^*-'-^ a horse is nae- that^ no decentrS wh. srr""^^"^"^^''"">-^Wng iniguity an' no be bSh vexcT'an' ''" ^'"'' ^^•■^'- ^'''^ bo.?ies, iedtormnbya8eto^lr„ -^'^' P"ir women scoun'rels its enlJht^ • *^'^^""i'" vapouring youne- Sodom an' Gomorrar " '^"'^ '^' ''^^'^y -^ ?«?gh a! Gae 'wa wi'yonr calf love Mr sj,v,-.k v famine, a month of joy an' a lifpfim ? ' '*' ^ ^«"«' «"' a did, no praisin' myseL tl e mlu?l ^>''^T- I^o as I banes are hardened- iyoTubear^^.V^"^^ ^'" y^"'" razor-till your purse can San'lf f^''' " ^^p o' the walk into your diiin'-room\n;? ' ^ane-til! ane can marrowless chairs ' """"^ ^^""* "^^^^ ^n't than twa I was aught an' twenty year inlrl 'af t out amang them, as the sJyln^L b^ that T ^ ^^'''\'''^ lore, a weel stowed house and oL.I . * v'°'^ ^ ''«d ga- bye a trifle i' the bank "' keen V n. " ^''"^'^"«i"«8. for- sae being thus provid! nr f 1 ^'T^. "'^ " '•^'"7 day some deint quCn th^ be ter o' mf '' T «'" t"«^ak lookit about me for twa or thr^^fHn "'rf, ^r"'^ ^''^^"i'v ane to my mind-aue thit hi, . T' ^'", ^ ^"""d oiit 44 telling her I wanted a wife—I had picket upon her— if she likit to take me guid an' weel, an' if no their was nae ill done. A weel she took me at my word, and blythe the body was, nae doubt, to get the offer ! In less than aught days I had her on a'hint me, and into the Cross Keys like a Lintie. And as I said before, nae mair about it; let the wab rin to the wab's end, here's a hale skin and a way o' doin' — an honour and an honesty forever. THE BANKS OF ALLAN WATER. Written by Matthew G. Lewis, author of "the Monk," " Castle Spectre,'" &c. Music by a Lady, and lately arranged by C. E. Horn. On 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, And a winning tongue had he. On the banks of Allan Water. None was so gay as she. On the banks of Allan Water, When brown autumn spread his store, There I saw the miller's daughter, But she smiled no more. For the summer grief had brought her, And the soldier false was he. On the banks of Allan Water. None so sad as she. On the banks of Allan Water, When the winter snow fell fast Still was seen the miller's daughter. Chilling blew the blast. But the miller's lovely daughter , Both from cold ana care was free. Oil the banks of Allan Water, ' There a corpse lay she. »on her — if ir was nae md blythe \ less than 3ros8 Keys p about it; skin and a I. ;he Monk," ily arranged 1. )re, r, 45 BRUOE'S ADDRESS. Burns.— Tune" Hey tuttie tattie." Scots wha ha'e wl' Wallace bled, Scot's wham Bruce has aften led I Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory 1 Now's the day, and now's the hour • See the front of battle lour : See approach proud Edward's power- Chains and slavery ! Wha will be a traitor knave ? Wha will fill a coward's grave ? Wha sae base as be a slave ? Let him turn and flee 1 Wha, for Scotland's king and law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand, or freeman fa', Caledonia, on wi' me ! By oppression's woes and pains, By our sons in servile chains, We will drain our dearest veins, But they shall be free I Lay the proud usurpers low ! Tyrants fall in every foe I Liberty's in every blow 1 Let us do or die 1 46 MEET;ME BY MOONLIGHT. Meet me by moonlight alone, And then I will tell you a tale, Mnst be tol J by moonlight alone. In the grove at the end of the vale. You must promise to come, for I eaid, I would show the night flowers their queen. Nay tiiru not away thy sweet head, 'Tis the loveliest over was seen. O meet me by moonlight alone. Day light may do for the gay, The thoughtless, the heartless, the free ; But there s something about the moon's ray, That is sweeter to you and to me. Oh ! remember, be sure to be there. For though dearly the moonlight I prize Oh 1 nought of its sweetness I'd share, If I want the sweet light of your eyes, So meet me by moonlight alone. BLUE BONNETS OVER THE BORDER. Sir Waltor Scott. March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale Why, my lar'i, dinna ye march forward in order ? March, march, Eskdale and Liddesd ile, All the blue bonnets are over the border. Many a banner spread, flutters above your head. Many a crest that is famous in story, Mount and make ready 'hen, sons of the mountain glen. Fight for your Quoen and the old Scottish glory. Come from the hills whese your hirsels are grazing-. Come from the glen of the buck and the roe : Coma to the crag where the beacon is blazing ; Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow. Trumpets are sounding, war-steeds are bounding : Stand to your arms, and march in good order : England shall many a day tell of the bloody fray, When the blue lionnets came over the border. I 1. 47 1. ' iR. rder ? d. ,&m glen, ory. azing-, lOW. ng: ar: •ay, LUCY'S FLITTIN' This deeply pathetic song was composed by Wm. Laidlaw, for many years the steward and trusted friend of Sir "Walter Scott. It is: sung to the tune of " Paddy O'llalfei ty.\ 'Twaa when the wan leaf frae the birk was fa'in, Ami Ma'tininas dowie had wound up tlie year, That Lucy row'd up her wee kist wi' her a' in't, And lel't her auld niaister and ncebours eae dear ; For Lucy had serv'd in the glen a' the simmer ; She cam' there ufor« the flower bloomed on the pea : An orphan was she, and I hey h.ad been kind till lier, Sure that was the thing broclit the tear to her e'e. She gaed by the stablo where Jamie was stannin'; Richt sair waa hia kind heart the fllttin' to see ; Fare ye weel, Lucy 1 quo' Jamie, and ran io ; The gatherin' tears trickled fast frae his e'e. As down the burn-side she gaed slow wi' the flittin', Fare ye weel, Lucy ! was ilka bird's sang; She heard the craw sayin't high on the tree sittin', And robin was cliirpin't the brown leaves amang. Oh, what is't that pits my puir heart in a flutter ? And what gars the tears come sae fact to my e'e ? If I 'i^asna ettled to be ony better, Then what gars me wise ony better to be ? I'm just like a laramic that losses its mither; Nae mither or friend the puir lammie can see ; I fear I ha'e tint my poor heart a' thegither, Nae wonder the tears fa' sae fast frae my e'e. Wi' the rest o' my daes I ha'e row'd up the ribbon, The bonnie blue ribbon that Jamie ga'e me ; Yestref n, when he ga'e me't, and saw I was sabbin', I'll never forget the wae blink o' hia e'e. Though now he said naething but fare ye weel, Lucy ! It made me I could neither speak, hear, nor see ; He could nae say mair than but iust. Fare ye weel, Lucy 1 Yet that I ^ill mind till the day that I dee. 48 The Iamb likes the gowan wi' dew when ita droukit, The hare likea the brake and the braird on the lea ; But Lucy hkes Jamie,— she turn'd and she lookit, She thoucht the dear place she wad never mair see Ah, weol may young Jamie {jang dowie and cheerless I And weel may he greet on tlio bank o' the burn 1 For bonnie sweet Lucy, sac gentle and peerless, Lies cauld in hor grave, and will never return I WIDOW MACHREE. Written and composed by Samuel t over, Esq. Widow Maoheee," 'tis no wonder you frown, Och hone 1 Widow Machree, Faith it ruins your looks that same dirty black gown, Och hone 1 Widow Machree, How alter'd your air, With that close cap you wear, *Tis destroying your hair That should be flowing free, Be ho longer a churl, Of ita black silken curl, Och hone 1 Widow Machree. Widow Machree, now the summer is ecrae, Och hone 1 Widow Machree. When ev'ry thing smiles should a beauty loook glum Och hone 1 Widow Machree, aee the birds go in pairs And the rabbits ancf hares — Why even the bears Now in couples agree, And the mute little fish Tho' they can't spake, they wish, Och hone 1 Widow Machree ! Widow Machree, and when the winter comes in, Och hone I Widow Machree, To be poking the iire all alone is a sin, Och hone I Widow Machree, 1^ a; ssl 40 Why the shovel and tongs To each other belongs, And the kettle sings songs . Full of family glee; While alone with your cup, Like a hermit you sup, Och houe I Widow Machree ! And how do you know, with the comforts Tve towld, Och hone 1 Widow Machree, But you're keeping some poor fellow out in the cowld, ^'^^ *^"°® ' Widow Machree I With such sins on your head, Sure your peace should be fled, Could you sleep in your bed Without thinking to see Some ghost or some spirit, That would wake you each night, Crying, Och hone I Widow Machree I Then take my advice, darling Widow Machree, Och hone 1 Widow Machree I And with my advice, faith I wish you'd take me, Och hone 1 Widow Machree 1 You'd have me to desire Then to stir up the fire ; And sure Hope is no liar In whisperin to me That the ghost would depart, When you'd me near your heart, Och hone ! Widow Machree I THE FEMALE SMUGGLER. In sailieur's clothing young Jane did go, Dress'd like a sailieur from top to toe, With a brace of pisteuls all by her side : Like a female smuggler, like a female smuggler That feared not wind or tide. Chorus, 50 Tl.en to if partat flj??'' """SS''" Ob I mothior, mothicr make mv h^,l Chorus. She says my heart is forever brobo And us these cruel words sre spot; Like a feSo\r;,r 'Se^SV ^^^'^''^^^ She diod,a';ow:j^e^ltr"^"^«'- CHEER. BOYS, CHEER | ""rrfeta^ier'S"'^ ""-r' '' Wowing, And the world S ? ?r "• °°"'"" » *"•«»»'. The B.:°;r'';^?iU"fc^*:j™^r''' ^-^' Jgh p r, Hero wo bad toil nnd little to reward It, But there shall penty Hmilo„p..„ our p»ir,, And ours Hha I be the Mrtti«« a,„| tJ.o foS"' Aud bouudle.8 meaJow. ripe with t'oldon grain. OBOttUi!, '^''rnl!^tl5T'_«^««^f''': [^"K'land mother England. 1 hnnd, chee,i.c^,ch;e;;K;ii;;^-;'.;;;it;;;i;;^^ f'w; K ' ""-J^"' «"eer r..r Kn^'Iand. mother Cheer, boya cheer, unito.l hourt and hand ^\T'H'' '^'r' ^h«^«'« wealth f,„. honeHt I i. J THE GROVES OP DLARNKY . Tune-" The la«t ro«o of nummer,,' The groves of Blarney, thov look bo charming T.S there 8 the daisy, and «woet canmtiou- 1 he blooming pnk and th« rose bo fair The dnffydown-cliUy be«lde« the lily. ' Flowers that scent f)v .ct open air. 'Tis Lady Jeffreys wmt owuh this stotion. Like Alexai. lor or like Helen fair, There s no comumnder In all tho nation : I'or regulation eould with her compare • Such walk surrouud her that no nine'pounder Could ever plunder her nhtoe of Btrength, ' Till O.ve, Cromwell he dii her nummel. And wade breaches in all her battlements. There is a cave where no dnylight onterfl, But cats and badcrers are for ever In-ed And moss d by nature, mak^s it c<.mplater. Than a coach and six, or a downev bed. lis there the lake is well stor'd with fishes And comely eels in tho verdant mud : ' Besides the leeches, and groves of b«eohe>. Standing in order to guard the flood. With Paddv O-Bli™, ? '^'°''' ""« "ioor; A«ba°,2rjf&s^4Sr' Bold Neotiinfl PI f ' , Croddeseea eo fair THE RED WHITE AND BLUE A world ^erhoCt fc"™' Old England roKr.1 foundation, With herlarlands of vi.f.' ''"^^ "'^ '^"^* When 8? proudly IhH? T' "?^ ^''' With her fl4 proud5v fl^n • ^'^u ^'^""^ <^'^^, 53 '^A^fu''^' ?? "^"^ «"P tring hither, And fill you It true to the brim. ' ^. fu"^'"!"*'' V^®^ ''a^e wou never wither Nor the Btar of their glory grow dim May the service united fe'e? s^eveT. ' But they to their colour prove true, The army and navy for ever. Three cheers for the Red, White, and Blue BONNIE PRmoE CHARLIE. Jamea Hogg. Cam' ye be Athol, lad wi' the philabeff SawT> ft '^T'^^^' °r baSks ofle Gary ? aaw ye our lads, wi' their bonnets nn' ^l;* ^ i j Leaving «.eir mountain?tr?otTprTn'cto^^^^^^^^^ Follow thee, follow thee, wha wadna follow thee I Cytu^ pf' .''*'^ l^^«^ ^^ trusted us faiiTy I King of the Highland hearte, bonnie Prince Charlie. ^ ^B '! ^*"I t® !°°' °^y b«^ve young Donald • He^hh Jm^ ^^^i'^'y, ^^^"l'* follow Glengarry • For ♦ J^» ^°°*u ^ ''"^ g*"«°' Clan-Ronald;^ ' FoUorr' .T *'l' "^°""* ^^ ''' "'^ Charlie. FoUow thee, follow thee, &c The, are the lads I ea^l^XfiX^'l^haT!;*''" ' J^ollow thee, follow thee, &o. Down through the Lowlands, down wi' ih^ ^w Loyal true Highlanders dowJlS. lu ^^'S^^otq, Ronafd and Donald drive on wTth^'tlwTl/"''''^ ' Over the necks of the foeslf' Ainc^Charlr''*' Follow thee, follow thee, do. M PADDY HAGGARTT Advice therhTi^/*"K*' °°"' '"! _ ^ . ^f"^ckfaldoraI,&c. i^t winter, the snow Uft «« • • _Poor Paddy wasZf 5 .P^''^'^'""^ ^o low, He heard irimr£' •''*'^'' ^""^ ^it«hea ; Wliackfalderal. ^ Vo pTtrioI'Sf ''*'• ''l'^^ ^^°»^ h««rt ■nrL P*^"»* name is bmniuff ; Wha kent nae pain frae hai£e to part Nae joy when back returning. ^ ?"-« -_j''^.'V;"ffi3-T,'' 'oduction leather," ill known !giixient. 61 Nae love for him in life shall yearn. JNae tears in death deplore him • He hath nae coronach nor cairn, ' Wha shames the land that bore him. Chor— Then swell, Ac. Fair flow'r the gowans in our glens, 1 be heather on our mountains; The blue bells deck our wjard dens, An kiss our sparkling fountains. On knock an' knowe, the when an' broom An on the braes the brecken, Not even Eden's flow'rs in bloom Could sweeter blossoms reckon. Choe.— Then swell, Ac. ^w-lu^'^'^f "V*" I^^S^ ^'thin the glen, Withm the hall our glasses, We 11 toast " Auld Scotland's honest men » Thrice o'er " Her bonnie lasses." An deep we'll drink. " The Queen nnd Kirk," _, , P""* country an' our freedom," Th broad claymore, an' Highland dirk. We re ready when tliey need them. Choe.— Then swell, &c. 'g, Original. JEANNIE MAY. Written by Andrew Young. Tune-" Of a' the airts the wind can blaw." Where birdies perched in ilka bush, bend music o'er the breeze ; Where maukins wi' a noiseless step Skip lightly 'mang the trees ; Snug m a hamely rustic shield, Aneathe a hawthorn grey Weel scougged frae ilka blast that blaws JLives bonnie Jeannie May. 63 "Wlien simmer flJogg her robea o' green O'er woods an' wavin' fields ; Wliei) ilhtt flower immulds its leaves, And bahny frai,'ra'ice violds, — When lintlea o'e.- iheir nestlia' younff Pour foHhthei.- lullaby, And Laverock's heich araang the clouds, Ave siuging cheerily. Wha tends the modest cottage flowers A^ e'en and oponiri' day t Whi fosters ilka tender sprout? Butbonnie Jennie May. I envy not the proudest prince O' Royal Geordie's line ; I carena' for their goold an' gear. If Jeanuie May Be mine. When blylhsome simmer davs are gane. When nature's cauld and bleak, She 11 t^jng her artless youth-learu'd lavs. To cheer the ingle cheek And though the winds blaw loud and shrill, And thick the snaw flaughts flee, The hearth thao's lit wi' Jeannie's smile Beams simmer's joy oii me. Original. HELEN'S BOWER. Written by Andrew Young. Tune— "The Cameronian's Lament." Ob I ken ye the spot in yon deep shady glen Where the sang o' the mavis is sweet ? * Or ken ye the bower where the sturdy auldoak. Spreads his arms o'er the lover's retreat ? ^®w-l i^^^' *° ^T ^®"* " ^^^ ^eep shady glen, Wi the sang o^ the burnie sae clear The wee wimplin' burnie that sweetly glides bv And mutters its sang in my ear. m ids, »e, Bhrill, le 68 Oh ! weel do I ken ilka green wavin' huah, Where roses in summer >'loom fair: For aft hae I pu'd them, a' drookit wi' dew, To wreath in my sweet Helen's hair. My Helen wis bonitie, and modest, and kind ; Wi' a heart free frao envy and guile ; The stars were outshone by the light o' her o'e, And heaven glinted bright in her smile. But cauld-handed death in his icy embrace. Has crushed the sweet flow'r in its bloom, And the dreary kirk yard, wi' its " auld wrinkl'd face," Has wrapped her dear form in its gloom. Yet still the loved spot to .eart will be dear, The sang o* the mavis still sweet, The bower wi' its roses sae fragrant and fair, Will aye be my gloamin' retreat. BLACK TURF. A celebrated Irish song, sunf? by Mr. Gallasoher, the Ventrilo- quist, in his popular Entertainment. Air—" Bui/ a Broom." Through Dublin sweet city, I ramble, my hearty, With my kish of black turf for cold wintry noon, They're cut from the bog of one Felix M'Oarthy, ;, Arrah, now buy a-cushia from your own Jack Mul- doon. Black turf, black turf, Ac. Spoken— Will you buy a Mock ? I will give you twenty- four black sods for one penny ; devil the like of them ever was burnt before for heat, or boilinp your pot ; just take one of them in your hand ; troth I urn after selling four pinnerth to Mistress Toole, of Cole-alley, and her decent husband, who is a knife-grinder, declared to me that he can work without the dispeniation of a caudle. since he began to burn my black turf. Will von h»^ don t be so foolish to be spenclfn your good lookin' monev for coals; in troth, there wasn't luck nor grace in thl^ country since the invention of coals, or a?y ill Tooki^ ch.mm.8tical commodity like them-wiil you bVa mock" Orra buy of Jack Muldoon his flaming black turf. When your feet is all snow, and your toes are frost-bitr Arra then you'll discover my turf ia your friend There'a such light from the blaze that afetter I've writ- '^VTnd.''^^"'*'"""'' ^''" ^'■''^^"' '*'•■ Christmas to Black turf, black turf, &q. firK.?r^°T® now girla, I am just come out, and the first that hansels me will get a fine sod over, ormSrewIs i ^''" V'u^^'' 'rl"^ *^^ b'^ boat-load I iotTonSed to myself, by my father-in-law, Murtv Groa-an n mM?o Tl^Tl *5'« '« ^^« ^^'^y turf, th{ qual!??"of dS^ n Swt'vt n'&-'T *'^ ^^^^ ^^^ '' Js Srom moved if nn7JL ^iPu^^' -^ '^' y""' ""'^ 0"'y the oo/,-,overtook t, and wouldn't let it come any further thfn mffather in-law'8 It would be livin in Dublin now, and all the young bogs would be Dublin people-this is the reaL T tellyez. that all yez should lose no time to buy as much llIlZ «?H°-f ™ y°" ^"^' ^^^•fa^^? icaTonly^iJe twelve sods for a penny of this turf, for you may LSnd on it, the parents for them are well known .fi,nT-i fr.h''^'^ «f this turf, but after iT'^burnt will walk oj of the grate and get themselves blackened over and ovpr again, fit for use, and ready for to broil anvk1ttlp«»7 pan, or any of that farailyf every bU as wTll n« I 'f ^" that you see plainly you will neTer have the same 'oinni^ any more of buyin/sich lucky turf So ,ez wont bnv^ do you want any, my chap ? /s that a pbny in yo^r ha^nd Come and buy now, avfc ; O crista I crkaVwhat bad trmJwnVbol. "''"" ''' ^^^'"^ ^^ ''^ *"^^'- Black turf, black turf, &c. y ' n yoa buy, do ma'am ; okin' money race in this Y ill-lookin )uy a mock ? c turf. ire frost-bit- r friend, !r I've writ- iristnias to rf, (fee. »t, and the rra'jewpis, couaigned milia of Dublin ora moved '« overtook my father- id all the e reason, I ' as much only give ay depind the devil I walk out and over le, eauce- before, so e 'otunity mt buy — our hand, what bad urf from 65 Orra gramachree avournoon, avourneen, avoumeen, Will you buy, avourneen, my moving black turf I I am now nearly broke, to the bog I must hurry And to Jim Casev's borrln I'll bo In time for to go Och, he died t'other day, and many he's left sorry. For he was a good hearted fellow (en'M) but now he's laid low. Block turf, black turf, &c. Spoken:] Och 1 ochl och! what sun.lry times those are, the world m troth, is nothin;, but a boat load of deceit, and the honest people, /am 0^ great gunchability of sickness, are leaping up jut of ih world just like younff trout of a summer's da.^ . Orra 1 , m Casey avic, you'rk gone without as much as I'uhm^ oiv of us good by, (cries) Ochl heaven be your bed, ,V , .»,; lin\un, if you war alive. Its yourself that would cry . ..Ufa murther after poor Jim! I would be on the vartue of niy oath, if Moll Casey took my advice. Jim would be at work to-day, the dirty sutrecan. I tould her to give him a little buttered punch, which would be the means of conglomerating his bowels; but stid of ttiat, she gives him a bkillot fuFl of raouldv colcannon.— Will you buy, Ac. THE PILOT. "OhI Pilot, 'tis a fearful night, There's danger on the deep, I'll come and pace the deck with thee, I do not tlure to sleep." "Go down," the sailor cried, '•go down This is no place for thee ; Pear not but trust in Providence, Wherever thou may'st be." " Ah I Pilot, Jangera often met, We all are apt to slight. And thou hast known the raging waves But to subdue their uui LU" 66 **It is not apathy," he cried, " That gives this strength to me ; Fear not, but trust in Providence, Wherever thou may'st be." "On such a night the sea engulph'd My fathers's lifeless form ; My only brother's boat went down In just so wild a storm." "And such, perhaps, may be thy fate. But still, Isay to thee, Fear not, but trust in Providence, Wherever thou may'st be," THE POPE. The Pope he leads a happy life, No car<^ has he nor wedded strife, He drinks the best of Rhenish wine, I would the Pope's gay lot were mine. He drinks, <&c. Yet all's not pleasure in this life, He has no maid nor wedded wife, No child has he to bless his hope, I would not wish to be the Pope. No chad, &c. The Sultan better pleases me. He lives a life of jollity, He has wives as many as he will, I would the Sultan's throne then fill. He has wives, &e. Yet even he's a wretched man, He must obey ihe Alcoran, He dare not touch one drop of wine, I would not change his lot for mine! Ho dare not, &q. Then here m taJr© my lowly stand, And live in German fatherland, I'll kiss my maiden fair and fine, And drink the best of Rhenish wine. I'll kise, &Q. And when my maiden kisaes me, I'll fancy 1 the Sultan be, And when my cheering glass I tope, I'll fancy that I am the Pope. And when, &e. CALLER HEREIIT. Neil Gow. Wha'll buy my caller herrin', The're bonnie fish and halesome farin' ; Buy my caller herrin', New drawn frae the Forth. When ye are sleepin' on your pillows, Dream ye aught o* our puir fellows. Darkling as they face the billows, A' to fill our woven willowa Buy my caller herrin* The're bonnie fish and halesome farin', Buy my caller herrin', New drawn firae the Forth. Chords. Wha'll by my caller herrin', The're no brought here without braye darin Buy my caller herrin' ; Te little ken their worth : Wha'll buy my caller herrin*, O, you may ca' them vulgar farin' : Wives and mithers maist despairin' Ca' them liyea q' meQ> 68 S?',i"rbot, how distressing^' Fine folks scorn shoals o' blesflng. Whall buy mjr caller herrin',cfec. And when the crp*»] n' !,-,«-• Lad^scladin%Tirs^°nd'rs'""^' ^i*^!r '? their bra^ljj«; Cast their heads and ^rew their faces. Wha'U buy my caller herrin', &c fasni^T^^^^^ Tru?h w^It? ^^%^^ you/ dealing "^' Truth will stand when a' things failing. Wba'll buy my caller herrin', &c. GET UP AND BAR THE DOOR ^rt^fthtSo?:--*^ to north, Says cur guidman to our guidwife Get up and bar the dooK ' ^nd the barrin\ (be. ^alT"^ " '° ""y tusswyfe skip, Gudc -- -^-- *^ ' o' the door. And the barrin\ die. And first they ate the white puddins, And syne they ate the black ; And mucklo thocht our guidwife to hersel. iJut ne er a word she spak. And the barrin', &c. Then said the ain unto the other, Here, man, take ye my knife. Do ye tak aff the auld man's beard. And I'll kiss the guidwife. And the barrin', dtc. But there's nae water in the house, And what shall we do then? What ails ye at the puddin broo, That's simmerin' in the pan 1 And the barrin*, dtc. 0, up then startit our guidman, And an angry man was he : Wad ye kiss my wife before my face, And scaud me wi' puddin' bree ? And the barrin'', dtc. 70 Then up and startit our guidwife Gi'ed three skips on the floor;* Gudeman, yeVe spoken the foremost word Get up and bar the door. And the barrin\ dtc. THOU BONNY WOOD OF ORAGIE LEA. Thou bonny wood of Cragie lea. Thou bouny wood of Cragie lea, Near thee I pass'd life's early daya And won my Mury's heart in thee. The broom, the brier, the birken buah liloom bonny o'er the flowery lea • And a' the sweets that ane can wish ' Frae nature's hand, are strew'd on thee. For ben thy dark green planting shade. ine cushat croodles amorously • The Mavis down thy blighted glade. Garsjecho ring frae every tree. Thou benny wood, &c. Awa' ye thoughtless murd'ring gaoff. Wha tear the nestlings ere they |< fin- Ml . ""—'"SO CIO tuey ilee ; m? " Sing yon yet a canty sang. Then O, in pity, let them be. Thou bonny wood, ay well " "^nM°^y°"'''° "'^ '<'''«'"<' ">' I*"' fl"t I'll PUU y«ur 72 The when and where were sottled fair, when Pat, as bold as bii/93, Cried, You know what we fight about, Mirkirky "rind, Alas J And then in haste, and tiot to waste such very preci >U3 time, One primed without a loading, t'other loaded without prime. Then back to back they stood, good uekl to measuru yards a score, Mackirkincroft such honest raoasure nevei- gu re b<'forft • a7^^K^ so light that out of sight full fairly h«WHr- seen' And Piddy shot a ibger- post, some half a miie btiiveen. Now Pat ;t; d ii'.- ♦•> soon after that in wedlock's bands were johi'd, Mackiikv-fje i'pt walkiHgon, and never look'd I hind- And rUl th>-: >.hj, bi« ghost, they say (for he of love expird,) Keeps walking round the finger-post at which bold i\ ddy fir d. -^ LoveU & Qiison, Printers, Toronto, ?t I m ron ifs$ /e^scf . fe -'v Ai''^, ^*