SZ01 -m *■'« ,„ 1 t Ha H - ' ^''^ '.'/■ i'a ^^|o — s HI '.'fui ^^■n ^^^ pmss< iiP^ ^■6 ^^ L..,.-..,:^ Hy^illll k t ■ » — iH^ E-: ^|2 i^H t ^6 eHB f^ r. t ^^■^8F(m:D THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES JOTTINGS BY EDWIN RANSFORD. PRICE TWO SHILLING?* AND SIXPENCE. LONDON: HANSFORD AND SON, MUSICSELLERS AKD PUBLISHERS, 2, PRINCES STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE, TWO DOORS fKOJI XUE ClllCl S, OXFORD STREET. ?1^ INTRODUCTION. By the desire of many friends, I publish these my " odds and ends," Or " Jottings," or whate'er you please. Written by me in times of ease. "The mind must be employed," 'tis said; Employment must to it be wed, Or it will into mischief run. And soon undo the good begun ; I, Ijearing this remark in view. At once resolved on what to do, And calling promptly to my aid The Muses — I some verses made, "Wliich so encouraged me, that I Determined was again to try ; So on I went from time to time In writing verses — making rhyme — Until I found my idle hours Were strengthening my mental powers ; Encouraged still, I still progressed. With all the mind that I possessed ; And if I your approval have, . 'Tis all I wish — ^tis all I crave. EDWIN RANSFORD. 863653 CONTENTS. Alone I've wandered by the stream Acrostic . . . • As we came o'er the sea After a fit of the gout Acrostic A Catch A Puzzle A Round A Truism Billy's Lament Come, fill your glasses to the brim .. Come, dance ! .... Come, gang awa' wi' me Come, sing me the ballad Calms and Storms Clever Ancestors . . De handsome Nigger Gal Emmetts .... Extraordinary Notice Ellen of the Lea . . Epitaph .... Good night, sweet love Happy beauteous Rose Health to the Prince ! Hail, glorious Sun ! How to get both . . TAOE. 59 11 20 28 47 69 20 54 10 12 49 59 39 54 8 46 55 15 64 30 41 51 51 14 3 4 5 VI CONTENTS. psying bold In the clays when we went g In the merry moonlight In the merry, merry Spring I love the morn .... I wish I'd a thousand a year Impromptu .... Income-taK papers Lines to Mr. Beard Letter to my Sister Letter to Mrs. Knapp Let's sing the gallant heroes Lines to a young Lady Lines on my native Village My village Home . . Merry Christmas Bells My bonnie Rose . . LTy own sweet one at home Molly Carr .... My bonny Jane . . My Grandfather's Hat . My loved one is returning. Mint Sauce .... My friend and old companion Minnie May .... Martins and Swallows Not quite a fool . . Nancy Bell .... Note from Mr. Lake and Reply On leaving my native village. . O'er the mighty waters blue. . On the ]\Iarriagc of a young La^ly TAGE. .... 1 52 69 26 65 65 76 ..... 70 43 63 23 62 77 72 40 60 47 14 46 26 63 49 4 2 48 75 46 72 68 60 . . t 53 CONTENTS. Vll Old Ben Roe .... .... Old Pilty and the Boy .... On meeting mv friend Mr. Lake One morn in May I left the shore Queen of Song, or the Valentine Queen of the Wood Question and Answer Rhyming .... Remembrance of the Past . Summer Morn .... Smile on, smile on . . Sweetheart .... Spring in her gay new dress She is all the world to me Spring ! . - .... PAGE. . 74 54 32 GO (31 13 42 40 62 7 <> o 70 34 75 The boy's Illustration of Heat and Cold The heart set free . . .... To my Mother on her Birthday To my Mother on her Birthday The low Doorway . . .... The Love- Secret . . .... The merry Dance beneath the Oak The Mountain Flower .... The New Year's Anthem .... The place where I was born . . The rose that blooms in yonder vale The voice that we love .... The Rash Man .... .... The Vocal Catalogue in Rhyme The Seaman and his Boy .... The wayside Mourner .... 31 71 y 06 83 29 21 38 83 42 71 31 27 35 73 19 VIU CONTENTS, The shooting Corn .... The two Irishmen. . .... The old Man and the Donkey The Httle Man and the Snails The Parson and the Hare .... The crying Boy . • .... Tommy's Grave . . .... To my Mother on my Birthday To my Mother on my Birthday Tell me, is thy heart still mine ? Tommy Tadpole's Courtship . . Taking after Father and Mother both There's music in thy voice Under the mulberry tree .... Welcome, Queen of May ! ... . Woman ! .... .... Welcome, lovely May ! .... When summer comes .... What is all the world to me ? When autumn leaves are falling Who can tell ? . . . . .... Which is it to be . . .... Warbling birds .... .... Ye gentle showers and singing birds Your shoulder to the wheel ! . . PAGE. 82 27 29 18 22 21 6 25 67 56 17 58 60 10 61 58 33 48 5 24 64 25 30 39 41 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. IN THE DAYS WHEN WE WENT GIPSYING. My first Song, written in 1837. In the days when we went gipsying, a long time ago, The lads and lasses in their best were dressed from top to toe; We danced and sung the jocund song upon the forest green, And nought but mirth and jollity around us could be seen. And thus wepassed the pleasant time, nor thought of care or woe, In the days when we went gipsying, a long time ago. All hearts were light, and eyes were bright, while nature's face was gay. The trees their leafy branches spread, and perfume filled the May; 'Twas there we heard the Cuckoo's note steal softly through the air. While every scene around us looked most beautiful and fair. And thus we passed, &c. We filled a glass to every lass, and all our friends most dear. And wished them many happy days, and many a happy year ; We gave the King with all our heart, and may his subjects be Our nation's pride, all lands beside, and glory of the sea ! And thus we passed, &c. And should we ever pay again a visit to the scene. We'll sing with all our heart and voice, God bless our gracious Queen ; May she live long o'er us to reign, and by her actions prove That she has gained her utmost wish, a people's lasting love ! And thus we'll pass the pleasant time, nor think of care or woe, As we did when we went gipsying, a long time ago. B 2 JOTTIKfi,'^, r;Y RANSFORD, MINNIE MAY. Dear Minnie May, for thee I sigh, But sigh for thee in vain ; Those lips that hade a last " good-bye," Can never speak again. Thy tender heart— thy gentle voice — Those prayers breathed forth for me — That used to make my heart rejoice, Have ever ceased to be. Oh ! Minnie May, oh ! Minnie May, She was my only love ; , But death has borne her far away To peaceful realms above. Oh! Minnie May, when we were young, Engaged in childish play. The joyous music of thy tongue Made bright each passing day. And as I grew' to riper years, 'Mid sorrow and 'mid grief. Thy cheering smile would dry my tears, And give my heart relief. Oh ! Minnie May, oh ! Minnie IMay, She was my only love ; But death has borne her far away To peaceful realms above. How oft have we worked side by side Down in the cotton field. When our fond hearts, which swelled witli pride, Their secrets have revealed. Now, I am left but to deplore Thy loss, while life remain ; And nought can ever here restore This broken heart again. Oh ! Minnie May, oh ! Minnie May, She was my only love, &c. JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. OLD PILTY AND THE BOY. A MAN in our village, renowned for his wit, Walking out on a hot summer's day. And seeing a boy with a bottle, he thought How he'd like just to moisten his clay. He called to the lad whom he took on one side, And said to him — " what hast got there ?" Said the boy, " I be going to the haymaking field. And I've got, sir, a bottle of beer." Said Pilty, for that was his name you must know, " I'll give thee a penny, my boy, To let's have a drink, — when thee think'st I've enough. Just thee twirl round thy hat and cry — ho-y! " The boy then consented to give him a drink, First taking the penny in hand. And Pilty commenced, but he hadn't drunk much Ere the boy well obeyed the command. He twirled round his hat and he holloa'd aloud — But no notice was taken at all, For Pilty kept drinking and swigging away, And the boy thought 'twas no use to call. Still he holloa'd and shouted and holloa'd again — " Thee hast had quite enough I am thinking." He pulled Pilty' s arm, and said, " didn'st thee hear ?" " How can a man hear when he's drinking ?" The lad was not satisfied with this put-off, And said — talking such stuff wouldn't do — " Then thee take the bottle, old Pilty replied, And see if my words be not true." The boy put the bottle then up to his mouth — To know that^ is just what I want. Pilty then twirled his hat and pretended to shout — " How odd," said the boy — " more he can^t!" JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. MY FRIEND AND OLD COMPANION. My friend and old companion ! What pleasure 'tis to meet With those we loved in early youth, Whose friendship still we greet ; Whom we can grasp with steady hand And give the hearty shake, And hid them welcome at our board. And of our fare partake. Such friendship must be always dear To every English heart; Then let us cherish it, my friend, Nor with it lightly part ; 'Twill guide us through life's rugged road, Our burdens help to bear ; 'Twill smooth our path in later days, And lighten every care ! My friend and old companion ! When we were young and gay, When every hour passed fleetly by, And joyous was each day. How little then we knew of care. And of tlie world's rude strife, Each day and hour was happiness. And every moment life. And though we've passed, since then, my friend. Through many scenes of care. Some happy moments still are left In which we yet can share. Then let our love and friendship last Till time shall with us end. And may we still to each one be Companion — brother — fri end ! JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. HOW TO GET BOTH. Thomas Harris, our village carpenter, Who lived down at the Weir, When work he'd done, was often asked If he would take some beer ? Thomas would say — " Please — thanky. Sir, — I don't know hardly Avhy, But somehow I do feel to-day More hungry nor a-dry !" Another time when Thomas came And did my Father please, He'd be asked by him if he would take A crust of bread and cheese ? Now Thomas' object being each time To get them both, d'ye see, Would say — " 'tis strange — but I to-day More dry nor hungry be !" WHAT IS ALL THE WORLD TO ME. Oh ! what is all the world to me, If thou to me art cold ? I'd every other charm resign, So I might thee behold ; Each passing hour to me is drear, Each day is sad and lone ; Without one cheering smile from thee, All happiness is flown. Oh ! what is all the world to me, If thou inconstant prove, — If, while I fondly think on thee, Thou dost withhold thy love ? Then turn thee not from me away, But one kind look impart ; And let me feel, as once I did, I still possess thy heart. JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. TOMMY'S GRAVE. My Father's Old Pony. I SING the little Pony, Tommy Grey, — Who served his Master well from day to day ; For several years he grudged not strength nor time, When he was stout and well up in his prime. Sometimes his work was easy — sometimes hard — But Tommy always met his due reward; For if he seemed fatigued or rather worn, He always had an extra feed of corn. His Master good, and merciful, and kind. Tommy well knew from him he'd mercy find ; So did his work with glee as hest he could, And always earned with pride his daily food. Nothing to Tommy ever came amiss. He never cared for that, nor thought of this ; But, soon as early morn had well begun. Tommy was always ready for a run. Whenever David went to fetch him home From field or meadow, he would always come ; But if the boy were sent —he seemed to say — "You're not old David" — and would trot away ; Across the field he'd bound like any deer, Tossing his head aloft in wild career, Until the boy could get him in some place With closer quarters, and with face to face ; In harness, well equipped, he looked so smart. That he was much admired in every part ; From head to foot — from mane unto the tail — In nothing was he ever known to fail. Whene'er his master's friends a visit paid And for a week — or month — or longer stayed. And wished to take a drive a mile or two, Tommy was ordered, harnessed, and put to ; And when that all was ready, and " all right," He'd spin along the road with all his might. JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. And up the liills he'd pull and tug so free, Pleased with his driver and his company. At length, poor Tommy, growing almost blind. And likewise very old, was much inclined To stumble, and to shy, and reel about, Which made his best friends fear and much to doubt Whether or not they might on him depend. And ride with safety to their journey's end. So 'twas determined, on one day, that he Should meet his death, and here no longer be. The time was fixed, and Tommy then was led Do^Ti to the Goss where he'd so often fed. And where his grave was dug and all prepared. But where he oft before so well had fared. The gun was ready — loaded — primed and all, By which this little pony was to fall. He to the fatal shot his Kfe did yield. And now lies buried in the self-same field. SMILE ON, SMILE ON! Smile on, smile on ! Nor let nor grief nor care thy mind distress ; The past has flown, the past has flown, Let genial smiles pervade each saddened face, And from the heart all sorrow chase. Till nought but sunshine we can trace. Smile ofi, smile on ! Come, sunshine, come ! And let thy light shed do"\^^l on us its cheering rays, Make bright our path ! and may we still in future days Pour out our grateful song of praise. And ever sing in joyous lays — Smile on, smile on ! 8 JOTTINGS, r,Y HANSFORD. SWEETHEART. When the sun has left the west, And the lark has sunk to rest, Then, love, meet me in the glen, There to pledge our vows again. When the dewdrop decks the flower. And sweat fragrance fills the bower, When the breezes whisper low. Then, dear sweetheart, let us go. When the stars above are bright, When the moon sends down her light, And all silent is the grove. In the glen, then, meet me, love. When the lonely nightingale Breathes soft music through the vale, When the night-winds softly blow. Then, dear sweetheart, let us go. CALMS AND STORMS. The winds blow wildly o'er the plain, And 'midst the forest trees : But they with firm and stalwart limbs Smile on the howling breeze. The traveller, cold, and wet, and wan, And with decrepit form. Seeks him some shelter from the blast. And from the raging storm. At length the wild winds cease to blow,- The black clouds cease to rain, — The glorious sun once more appears, And all is bright again. Then let us heed nor calms nor storms. But meet them as they come, For both are needful in their turn To glad our happy home. JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. TO MY MOTHER, ON HER BIRTH-DAY, July 29, 1858. Oh ! had I but a Cowper's mind ! It should not rest till I could find Some heavenly theme, or haj^py lay, To greet thee on thy natal day. Alas ! such bliss is not for me ; I therefore must contented be To write thee in my own plain way, As best I can — as best I may. Then to my task ! How many years have past and gone Since first thy form was gazed upon By a fond ^Mother's beaming eyes, Beaming with blessings from the skies ! And, oh ! what love was planted then In thy young heart, which my poor pen Cannot describe, but which has been Thy firm support through many a scene. Thy IMother, with a mother's care. Did watch thy growth ; nor did she spare One kindly act, so thou might'st prove A fitting emblem of her love. Thy heart, thus formed with love and truth, Has been thy guide in early youth — Thy constant friend in later years — Thy solace now old age appears. Oh ! my dear Mother, what delight 'Twould give me now, could I but Avrite The dictates of a grateful heart. Which I would fain to thee impart ! How oft, in childhood, I've partook Of thy sweet smiles and kindly look ! And when thou didst at all reprove, 'Twas done in gentleness and love. 10 JOTTINGS, BY HANSFORD. And oft, upon a Sunday night. Oh! how I'd listen with delight, To hear thy soft and dulcet voice, Making my little heart rejoice ! And when the time arrived that I Should quit thy home and say "good bye," Thy blessing followed in my wake, To cheer, and bid me courage take. But, ah ! what scenes have taken place Since then I — what changes we could trace ! Friends dead and gone — and only left Their names behind, to those bereft ; Whose memories to us are dear, And o'er whose graves the silent tear Will sometimes fall in love profound, As we bend o'er the sacred ground. But though they're gone, Ave should not grieve ; They rest in heaven, we believe ; Their spirits have been borne to God, Though they lie buried 'neath the sod. Friends young and old alike are gone — Friends we no more may look upon ! Thus all on earth must pass away, And bid adieu to mortal clay. Thy age, dear Mother, 's very great ! To-morrow makes thee eighty-eight ! But though thy age be great indeed, From many sorrows thou art freed ! Thy life, thank God, is highly blest ; With every comfort thou'rt possessed ; Thy children, too, both one and all. Are ready to obey thy call ; Their love for thee is ever strong. And will remain as such, as long As thou art spared to them on earth, And they be spared to feel thy worth. JOTTINGS, BY KANSFORD. 11 Our Father, who for fifty years Did share Avith thee thy smiles and tears, Has gone to his eternal rest, Wliere dwell for ever all the blest. But thou, dear Mother, still art near. To help, to comfort, and to cheer ! Whilst thou art with us, we yet feel A fond affection o'er us steal. That tells us we've a Parent's care Still mindful of us everywhere ; And A\dll be so while life remains, And health and strength she still retains. Thou'st done for me a mother's part, AccejDt thou now a grateful heart ; Yea, ALL that heart could now suggest, Or by the tongue could be expressed. May blessings still with thee increase ; May thy last years be crowned with peace ; And Avhen this world shall with thee close — Oh ! may thy soul find sweet repose ! ACROSTIC. Ev'ning's lovely sun has set Down in yonder grassy mead, Wanton lads and maids are met In the fields where lambkins feed. Now the shepherds tune their lay Round the merry maypole high, And the happy swains so gay Number 'neath the bright blue sky ; Send the pipe and tabor round, Fortune smiles on us to-night, O'er each heart let joy be found Reigning 'mid the sportive sight, Down among the meadows bright. 12 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. BILLY'S LAMEIST. A Doleful dittt. Tune "There was a jolly Miller." Now listen all, and lend an ear, While I my tale relate ; And when you've heard what you shall hear, You'll all bewail my fate. The tide of gi'ief with me runs high ; But wretched though I be, " I envies nobody, no, not I, And nobody envies me." As soon as daylight my eye meets, I leaves my precious bed. And wanders thro' the crowded streets To earn my daily bread, I eyes the swells as they goes by — But nohhy though they be, " I envies nobody," &c. The boys they follers me about, And caHs me shameful names ; Says, " does your mother know you're out?" And plays all sorts of games. But though their jeering does me try, I bears it cheerfully, " For I envies nobody," &c. Ifs not no use complaints to make ; The people, as they pass, All think themselves so wide awake. And me as green as grass. But though they lift their heads so high. And treats me scornfully, " I envies nobody," &c. JOTTINGS, BY RANSFOllD. 13 I'm a honest in-de-iuit-ri-al, And never owes no debts ; And when I meets a friend and pal, I never him forgets. Sometimes my hardships makes me sigh And feel my misery ; "But I envies nobody," &c. Times an't now what they used to was, I'm getting precious thin ; I can't get wholesome wittles, 'cause I ha'n't got not no tin. But though I can't my wants supply, And ease my poverty, " I envies nobody, &c," What I goes through you'd scarce believe, My suffering's very great ; And I felt quite sure that you would grieve At Billy's wretched fate. And now I wish you all " good bye;" And though forlorn I be, " I envies nobody," &c. MORAL. Before we part, I wish to say To all a word or two ; For see your Billy where you may, You'll find him always true. Now as we cannot all be high, Let this our feelins be, " I envies nobody," &c. QUESTION AND ANSWER. The Poet says, — " What'^^s a house without a woman ? ' J say, — Comfortless, and fit for no man. 14 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. MOLLY CARR. When I at my window am gazing, 'Tis not at a comet nor star ; Eut an object more bright and more pleasing- The face of my sweet Molly Carr. Nor violets, roses, nor lilies. With her can be put on a par, Nor daisies, nor daffodowndillies Can vie with my sweet Molly Carr. Ye soldiers, who foremost in battle Run all kinds of danger in war. Are more safe from the cannon's loud rattle Than the Eyes of my sweet Molly Carr. Ye sailors, who plough the salt ocean, And steer by the compass afar,- Your compass is not, I've a notion. So true as my sweet Molly Carr. No maiden in all this proud nation, Nor any fine country afar, Whate'er be her rank or her station. Has smiles like my sweet Molly Carr. Had I all the wealth and the treasure Of Russia's great monarch, the Czar, All that would I lay down with pleasure At the feet of my sweet Molly Carr. HEALTH TO THE PRINCE! Health to the Prince! old England's future King! May he to England's throne all honor bring ! May those examples set him in his youth Dwell in his heart and be maintained with truth ! On England's Prince may showers of bliss descend, And may he ever prove old England's friend I Sweet beaming hope his steps illume around, And every virtue in his path abound ! JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 15 EMMETTS. After returning from a short visit to this delightful spot. Emmetts — thou rural spot on England's earth — Where dwell domestic bliss and moral worth ; Where labour, in a foreign land though hard, Has met with here its just and sweet reward ! Where the bright sun at early morn does peep, To call its inmates from their balmy sleep. "WTiere on the laAvn Old Tobij loves to play With Jim and Tiny sporting time away ; Where the white Bantams strut about with pride, 'Neath lofty trees, or 'mid the gi'een shrubs hide, Where Boh, Muff, and Quiz, ramble through the wood In search of Conies for their special food ; Or with their master bound o'er hills and dales. Shewing their pleasure by their wagging tails. Where Host and Guests, as soon as luncheon's o'er, Light up their pipes, then hasten to the door, Don their slouch ivide-a-ivaJces, and, stick in hand, Start off across the fields or furrowed land. Up hill and down, through brushwood and o'er stile. Onward we go for many a pleasant mile ; Until we wander far away, and then Back we return to that sweet home again. And then at silent eve, before the fire. With all that man could wish or heart desire. We talk of Chinamen — their ways and means, Which makes one wish to travel to those scenes Where so much wealth and luxury abound, If industry shall in the man be found ; And then, to change the scene, we have a Song, Something that's jolly, — sweet, — and not too long, As " Hob-a-nob," and " Old Dog Tray," shall prove, With, too, " Come live with me and be my love." And if, perchance, some sudden stir be made By any of the guests, or by the maid, 16 JOTTINGS, BY RANKFORD. Up jumps Old Toby quick from off the ground, And Tiny, too, and 'cross the room they bound, With bow, wow, wow, aharming each one there, Enough to frighten one from off one's chair ; And, if the former's petted and caressed, Tiny then seems as if she couldn't rest, But flies at once to drive him from his place. To bid him quit, and back his footsteps trace ; Jealous as any joetted dog can be, Thinking no other one can love as she. . Thus does each evening pass in song and fun. Till bed time comes, and then away we run. UNDER THE MULBERRY TREE. Come hither, ye lads and ye lasses so gay, Come bring out your partners and trip it away Under the mulberry tree ! Let each one be happy, and all do their best To foot it along with a will and a zest Under the mulberry tree I Let old age and youth in the merry throng meet. And every heart mingle and join in the treat Under the mulberry tree ! Let gayest of flowers be strewn on the ground, And let their sweet fragrance add perfume around Under the mulberry tree ! Let mu'th, and sweet music, and pleasure abound. Until the glad valley shall echo the sound, Under the mulberry tree ! And when evening is o'er and the stars are all bright. Let each to the other then bid a " good-night," Under the mulberry tree ! JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 17 TOMMY TADPOLE'S COURTSHIP. Tommy Tadpole was a hero bold As ever crossed the water, He ran away, as I've been told. With Jenny Jones's daughter. Tho' Tommy was a Sailor true And loved to be in battle. Says he, " I loves the lasses, too, I likes to hear their prattle." Of course you've heard of Jenny Jones, That's play'd upon the organ, Who Avon the heart (for so she owns) Of Mr. David Morgan; They married one fine morn in May (And what was very di'oU) They had a daughter, people say. That they did christen Poll. Miss Poll she was so pretty, too. And she grew up so fast. That she had sweethearts not a few, But tliat did not long last. For PoU said she would have a lad Who'd sailed upon the ocean, And so she fixed on Tommy Tad, For him she'd quite a notion. Now Tommy courted two long years, And said it was delicious ; He said his PoUy had no fears, Nor looked on him suspicious. For Tommy was a nice young man, At him the girls looked sly. And said that they'd devise a plan Poor Tommy's love to buy. 18 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. Says Tommy — " Girls, it is no go ; I've SAvorn my love to one, She's all I wish from top to toe, So you I means to shun. She tliinks of me from night till morn, And I thinks much of she. She said, soon arter I was born, That I her love should be. " She's now my spouse, and I just mean To love her ^midst all strife ; I ne'er saw one where'er I've been Like her in all my life. She's good and kind, and works as hard As any soul can do ; So nought shall now my love retard, I'll be her husband true. " Now all young men what likes a lass, To me list, I beseech ; Before this very night shall pass A lesson I will teach. If you'd a happy life pursue. Don't give your minds to roam, But stick to one, and love her, too. And blest will be your home." THE LITTLE MAN AND THE SNAILS. A LITTLE man that I knew well Was asked one day, if he Could tell when snails were crawling out What weather 'twas to be ? Said he, " I'm. sure they hordes no good, In that I'm pretty right ; To tell the truth, sir, I likes best To see 'em out o' sight!" JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 19 A TRUISM. 'Tis not the merry look whereby the mind we trace, There's many au aching heart beneath a smiling face. THE WAYSIDE MOURNER. Seated at a door step on the outskirts of a village, near N , a fair child was weeping over a vase of flowers; she was accosted by a stranger, who asked her the cause of her grief. " Fm waiting the return of my mother, who died foui' years smce; as they carried her hither, tliey told me she would come back, and that as the stars and flowerets reappeared, so she would return to me.'' — " Dry your tears, fiiii' child," rephed the stranger ; " it will be your lot, if you love God, to join your mother in heaven, where those bright stars are shining ; but she can never return to you on earth." SONG. " Fair child, why sit ye weeping over those faded flowers ? Oh ! why art thou so sorrowful, why pass such weary hours ?" " Fm waiting for the sweet retui'n of that dear sainted one Whose spirit has to heaven fled, and left me here alone. The anguish that my bosom feels, you do not, cannot know. Though four long years have past since then, my poor heart's filled with woe ; They told me she would come again, when, following in their track, The stars and flowerets reappear; but, ah ! she comes not back!" " Dear Girl, dry up those briny tears that round your eye- lids burn. You may to her in heaven ascend, but she can ne'er return!" 20 JOTTINGS, BY HANSFORD. AS WE CAME O'ER THE SEA! The stars shone twinkling in the sky, The billows were at rest, The noiseless waves rolled peacefully Across the ocean's breast. The Moon's pale face, so softly bright, Smiled on my love and me. And shed around her silvery light, As Ave came o'er the sea ! Our little bark swept through the deep So gallantly and free, Wliile all above their watch did keep To guard my love and me. With mirth and song the hours went round. And filled each heart with glee ; Nor was there one discordant sound, As we came o'er the sea ! The morn returned in splendom* gay, As we the land did near; The sun poured forth his cheering ray, Nor did one cloud appear. The scene around looked brightly fair, And charmed my love and me ; While welcome greetings filled the air, As we came o'er the sea ! A PUZZLE. When dining one day at the Freemasons' Hall, I was asked by a friend to take wine ; I bowed my assent — when he kindly remarked, " P'rhaps your friend on your right will us join ? I replied I was sure no objection he'd have. And asked him — of course he said none ; We drank — and I said to him, " Sir, you must know My friend's Father was my Father's Son." JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 21 THE MERRY DANCE BENEATH THE OAK! The merry dance beneath the oak ! what scenes it brings to mind, When happiness was full in view, and care was left behind ; When youth and age in joyous mood did foot it to and fro, And all around tripped sprightly on the " light fantastic toe/' The summer skies were bright and clear, and every heart was free, As we revelled in the merry dance, beneath the old oak tree ! The merry song and ringing laugh resounded o'er the green. And Phoebus shed his brightest rays to grace the hapj^y scene; While nature in her golden dress was decked with flowerets gay, And warbling birds' sweet melody broke forth from every spray. The summer skies were bright and clear, and ev'iy heart was free. As we revelled in the merry dance, beneath the old oak tree ! And ere we left the rustic spot of merriment and mirth. With loyal hearts we gave the Queen! the pride of all the earth; May she to England long be spared, and happy be her reign. And long the flag of freedom wave throughout her wide domain. The summer skies were bright and clear, and every heart was fi-ee, As we revelled in the merry dance, beneath the old oak tree ! THE CRYING BOY. A BOY was once sittmg across an old gate That led to a field near the road. And was crying away and bewailing his fate As though he'd of giief quite a load ; Our old Doctor, who happened to be passing that way, Inquii-ed — "why this sorrowful cup?" " The pretty girls all are" he said, with dismay, " Being inarried before I groios up!" 22 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. THE PARSON AND THE HARE. Said a Parson one day to his man, — " when you see A fine hare any time on the hill, come to me And tell me where 'tis, that I may proceed At once to the spot, which I'll do with all speed." " I want," said the Parson, " a fine hare, to send Up to Town to a very particular friend." Said Thomas, "All right ! sir, just leave it to me, I know just the place where one's likely to be ; And when I have found him, I'll soon let you know, And you and I both, sir, together can go." The Parson, who always was thought a good shot. By his man was next day called to visit a spot Where lay a fine hare in a field near the road, And Thomas inquired if the gun he should load ? Said the Parson, " Yes ! Thomas, and make all the haste You can, my good felloAV, and let no time waste ! And then to your mistress, and ask her to write Out the ticket I spoke of to her t'other night. And as you'll be on the way to the Cross Hands, You can take it at once without further commands ; And tell you the Landlord to mind and not fail To send it to London to-night by the mail." Away then ran Thomas as fast as he coidd. For he, .like his Master, was just in the mood ; He brought back the gun and the ticket, all right, And away they both trudged it to each one's delight. They soon reached the field, and old Thomas's eye Caught sight of poor pussy that soon was to die ; The Parson immediately shouldered his gun. And now comes the very best part of the fun ; The hare was put up, and the Parson he shot ; But missing his aim, away the hare got ; And as he fast gallopped o'er field and through thicket. Old Thomas cried — " Sto]) ! Stop ! thee hasut the ticket ! " JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 23 LET'S SING THE GALLANT HEROES BOLD. Let's sing the gallant heroes bold, Who fought beyond the sea, 'Midst piercing cold, and scorching heat, And won the victory ! On Alma's heights they bravely fought, And bravely conquered, too, — And showed to all the world around What British hearts could do. At Balaklava were their skill And prowess to be seen, With valour rife they honored both Their country and their Queen ! The battle there they nobly won ; And though then- loss was great, Their strength maintained them in the tight. Nor did their zeal abate. At Inkermann ! long will that name To British hearts be dear ; There England's sons in glory fell, 'Mid battle's wild career. But still the courage never failed Of those that yet remained ; The daring foe they bravely faced, Till they the victory gained t Nor shall the gallant British Tars By England be forgot ; Whene'er she needs their services, They're ready on the spot ! They've ever been, — and ever will Be, — masters of the seas ; Nor will they ever fear to meet The battle and the breeze ! 24 JOTTINGS, BY HANSFORD. But we have now another corps, A gallant British band, Who will, should sterner duties call. Defend our British land ; I mean that band of Englishmen Whose hearts are blunt to fears, And who'll maintain their English rights- The British Volunteers ! WHEN AUTUMN LEAVES ARE FALLING. When autumn leaves are falling, And summer's past and gone, How sweet it is to wander The grassy meads alone ; When all is calm and silent. Save the low murmuring breeze, Wliich steals along the valley And through the spreading trees ; To think upon the loved one, Far, far across the sea. Whose virtues will be cherished Long in my memory ! No maid was ever fairer, No heart more kind and true, No eye was ever brighter Than lier's, my faithful Sue ; But soon she'll be returning. No more again to roam. To dwell for ever with me, And grace my happy home. Our fond young hearts united Will ever constant jirove, And nought on earth shall sever Our happiness and love I JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. TO My MOTHER, ON MY BIRTHDAY. 'Tis eigld and forty years to-day Since I did first my powers display ; Though / was weak, my voice was strong, As those well knew who heard my song. I kicked and squalled and made ado, And kept my time and tune so true, That all around seemed highly pleased. And then my little cheeks they squeezed. My Mother then, so kind and good. Embraced her babe and gave it food. . Thus ended my first infant song. And thus beguiled the time along. And all remarked, and all confessed, I was the sweetest and the best They'd ever seen, or ever heard, — I sang like any little bird ! And then my Mother, she would prayj (As on her gentle breast I lay) That I might walk in wisdom's ways, And learn to sing my Maker's praise And then my infant lips she kissed, (And even Nurse could not resist). So thus, with love and meekness mild. She pressed and blessed her infant child. WHICH IS IT TO BE? On leaving my house, a friend once said to me, " I scarcely know which way to go ; For whether a Cab or a 'Bus 'tis to be, I really and truly don't know." Said I, " ^ly advice is to you as a friend — And to all married men v/hen they come — From here take a Cab, 'twill be better, depend, And then a buss when you get home." £ 26 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. I LOVE THE MORN. I LOVE the morn, the early morn, With its streaks of crimson red ; When song-birds gay with merry lay Wake from their leafy bed ; When perfumes rise from briar and flower. From scented shrub and tree, And shed their grateful fragrance round ; Oh ! the early morn for me ! I love the morn, the early morn. When the lark soars high above, And trills in sweetest melody Its notes of joy and love ; When Phoebus from the azure sky Smiles over land and sea. And glads all nature with his rays ! Oh ! the early morn for me ! MY GRANDFATHER'S HAT. My Grandfather's hat ! how it brings to my mind The days that are past and are left far behind; When at morn's early dawn, ere in chair I had sat, I'd be off to the hall for my Grandfather's hat. When he'd lead me so tenderly round by the stile. With his white flowing locks and his ever fond smile; Or when on his knee in the garden I've sat. Beneath the broad brim of my Grandfather's hat ! That look of benevolence beaming with joy, Wlien he thought howhis substarice he best might employ; For he ever was ready his hand to extend To relieve the distress of a neighbour or friend ; Whose warm noble heart was so pure and sincere, That none e'er approached him with doubt or with fear ; The glad smile of welcome Avith pride ever sat Beneath the broad brim of my Grandfather's hat ! JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD, 27 THE RASH MAN, Our maid-servant very obtrusive and rude, Into the lodger's apartments would often intrude ; One morning, he being annoyed, I suppose, Let out — and a "regular rumpus " arose. The girl came to me in a terrible fright, As the clock was just strking out five — *' Our Lodger," said she, " Sir, is looking so loild, As if he could eat one alive f Said I, my good girl, what has caused this alarm — What makes you think all is not right ? " Because when I sj)oke to him. Sir, he bawled out You hussy — get out of my sight ! I'm certain he's going to commit some rash act. Or he wouldn't have spoke so to me ; He looks like a Cannibal, every inch — That any one plainly can see" I remonstrated with her and scolded her well, — But nought seemed at all to abash her, However I ran — and it's true what I say, — This rash man was eating a rasher ! THE TWO IRISHMEN. Two Irishmen met in the street t'other day. When one spoke and said to the other — " I'm bothered completely — so tell me, I pray. Am I speaking to you or your brother ? You're so much alike, that I'm puzzled to guess Which it is that before me I see." Said the other — " I'll help you, sir, out of the mess ; This time, you are speaking to me!" 28 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFOKD. AFTER A FIT OF THE GOUT. August and September, 1858. Marylebone. — Arrest of the man Gout ! Tlioronghhad, Pain- ful Gout, a determined looking fellow of ftorid complexion and bloated appearance, belonging to the Sivell mob, and also connected with that detestable gang the Rheumatics, was brought before the Sitting Magistrates, John , and Charles , Esquires, by Inspector Colchicum, charged with entering the dAvelling-house of Mr. Ransford, the Vo- calist, of 59, Welbeck-street, and while the Prosecutor was wide awaJce, that he did, with a crowbar, or something very like it, attempt to wrench off the cap of the Prosecutor's knee, and inflict other serious injuries. Policeman, Bluepill A 1, was first called, and stated that he entered the Prosecutor's Sanction Sanctorum, and found the prisoner in the act of committing great violence on the Complainant, causing him intense suffering, and many a wry face; with the assist- ance of his brother officers. Magnesia, Nitre, and Ejisom Salts, he had succeeded in arresting the Prisoner and bring- ing him before their Worships. Inspector Watts (Watts's gout pills, of Coventry) here stepped forward and informed the Bench that he had been in pursuit of this gang for several years past, and was successful in most cases in routing them from their lurking places ; he was in hopes of exterminating them altogether, but the fellow Gotit was of so desperate a character that he seemed determined to I'esist to the very last. Several witnesses were called by the Prisoner's Counsel to speak to character, viz. — Hot- Jlannel, Warviwater, Wadding, and Bindtip ; but all failed to produce a favorable impression on the bench. The prisoner was asked if he had anything to say in answer to the charge, when, with a look of exnUing grimace and a horrid grin, he re- l^lied, " I've nothing to say." The Bench remanded him for a week, in order to afford the officers an opportunity of further investigating the affair, when it is expected he will be fully committed. JOTTINGS, BY HANSFORD. 29 THE LOVE-SECRET. Oh ! I love my love silently ! " You wish his name I'd mention ?" But that's not my intention, For I love my love silently ! Shall I whisper in your ear ? Oh, no! — oh, no ! It must not be whisjjered. It really would be so absurd ; For I love my love silently ! Oh ! I love my love silently ! " Tell you if his eyes are blue ?" Oh, ho ! — that would never do. For I love my love silently ! " If the name begins with A?" Oh, no ! — oh, no ! That must not be yet heard, It really would be qriite absui'd ; As I love silently, silently ! Oh ! I love my love silently ! " Handsome ?" — Oh ! I could not say, I'll leave you to judge, some day ; For I love my love silently ! Shall I give you half a hint ? Oh, no I — oh, no ! That must not be ventured, — It really would be most absurd ; For I love my love silently ! THE OLD MAN AND THE DONKEY. A CRABBED old man and his wife Avere one day Walking out, when they heard from a field a Mid bray. " A relation of t/ours," said the old man, "we hear." " Oh, yes ! — but it's only by matriage, my dear." 30 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. ELLEN OF THE LEA. 'Twas ou a bright May morn, Quite early in the SjDring, When i^retty kimhkins played And merry birds did sing. My heart was bounding gay, My footsteps light and free, When chance threw in my path Sweet Ellen of the Lea : With rapture now my heart beat high. While joy beamed in her sparkling eye. We climbed the sunny hill. We roamed the shady grove, We wandered by the stream^ And there we told our love. I gazed upon her form. Her hand I gently pressed, While blushes graced her cheek, As we our love confessed. I'll hail the happy day with glee That gave me Ellen of the Lea. WARBLING BIRDS. The merry song of warbling birds, how pleasing to the ear ! It tells us winter-time is past and Spring again is near ; It bids each saddened heart be gay, bids every eye be bright, And all on earth to smile again with pleasure and delight. To hear the lonely Nightingale, when evening shades appear, Pour forth in plaintive melody its wild notes soft and clear — That float upon the rising breeze from out the silent grove, Telling in glad and tuneful strains of happiness and love. The merry song of warbling birds, &c. JOTTINaS, BY RANSFORD. THE VOICE THAT WE LOVE! Oh ! sweet in the spring time's the birds' merry song, And sweet are the streams as they ripple along ; Sweet, sweet are the notes of the skylark above, — But sweetest of all is, the voice that we love ! Oh ! sweet are the accents that fall on the ear From friends we have known in our earliest year, — And sweet nature's charms when in summer we rove, But sweetest of all is, the voice that Ave love ! Oh ! SAveet are the zephyrs, as softly they sweep O'er valleys at eve when the flowers are asleep ; Sweet, sweet are the nightingale's notes in the grove, — But SAveetest of all is, the voice that Ave love ! Oh ! sweet is the village bells' chime, as it steals Across the wide Avaters in gay merry peals ; And — sweet oft the tidings from distant friends prove,— But sweetest of all is, the voice that we love ! THE BOY'S ILLUSTRATION OF HEAT AND COLD. A Schoolmaster once to his scholars explained The difference existing between heat and cold ; " Do you quite understand me, my boys, he exclaimed ; Or do you again, now, require to be told ? The one it contracts, while the other expands. I AA'ish you to notice, boys, well, what I say ; NoAV stand up at once — j)ut behind you your hands — And give me some good illustration, I pray." One boy then stood forward to make it appear That he understood it, and tlcat he could show — " The longest days are in the summer, 'tis clear ; The shortest days are in the winter, you know .'" 32 JOTTINGS, liV RANSFORD. 0:^E MORN IN MAY I LEFT THE SHORE. One morn in May I left the shore To fight for country, home, and beauty. And, when amidst the cannon's roar, "With lion-heart I did my duty. The enemy I did defy Though great they might have been in story, Resolved to conquer or to die. For England, Home, for Love and Glory ! Wlien bounding o'er the mighty deep, With soul all eager for the battle, I thought of honors I might reap 'Mid lightning's flash ! and thunder's rattle. I thought of her I left behind, Of those brave hearts renowned in story. And though rough perils I might find, I'd fight for Home, for Love and Glory ! And when the raging war began,' The crew, with bold and manly daring. All armed with courage to a man. Resolved their foes they'd not be sparing. The battle o'er, — the Victory won, — The jolly tars now told their story, Then with full glass, each gallant son Gave, — " Here's to Home, to Love and. Glory !" THE SHOOTING CORN. A Sportsman asked, the other day. His neighbour, Jacob Muz — " Do you shoot, Jacob (by-the-way) ? " "No! but — I've got a corn as does." JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 33 WELCOME, LOVELY MAY. Hail, lovely May ! with verdure bright, recalling back the scene, When youth went forth wdth spirits light to trip it o'er the green. Oh, those were happy youthful days when nature smiled so gay, And Shepherds sang their merry lays to welcome lovely May. The winding river's rippling stream so gently murmured by, And Phcebus shed a glowing beam from out the azure sky. Oh, then we tripped it merrily throughout the livelong day, And tuned oiu* voices cheerily to welcome lovely May. Each one was hailed with merry shout, and greetings filled the au% The very woods with mirth rang out, our happiness to share ; Yes, every heart \\dth pleasure beat, and bii'ds from every spray Sent forth their melody so sweet to welcome lovely May. The fairest month is " lovely May," wherein we hail, each year, The Queen of England's natal day, a day all hearts revere ! Let's hope to greet it oft again, and sing with voices gay, Long, long may Queen Victoria reign, to welcome lovely May. The fourth verse of this song was written by Edward M. Spencer, Esq. THE LOW DOORWAY. I happened one morning to call on a friend. Whose doorway was not very high, The top caught my head, which soon made me to bend. And caused me some pain, by-the-bye ; My friend's quick remark was that I had much grown ; And I must stoop lower, he said. Said I, " 'Tis enough, Sir, to make a man groan. To get such a rap on the head." F 34 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. SHE IS ALL THE WORLD TO ME ! She is not of noble stem, Nor bedecked with diadem ; But her lofty virtues shine Ever graceful and divine ; • / Though my o"\vn she ne'er can be, She is all the world to me ! Though her eyes be not so bright As the glittering stars by night, There is truth in every look, Sparkling like the dimj^led brook ; Though my oyni she ne'er can be. She is all the world to me ! Her loved voice is sweet to hear. Sweet her smile, and soft her tear ; In her heart compassion dwells. And of heavenly goodness tells ; She my OAvn can never be. But she's all the Avorld to me ! HAIL : GLORIOUS SUN. Hail ! glorious Sun ! shine with refulgent light. And glad the earth, and make all nature bright ; Let fruitful trees in great abundance yield, And fill with grain the joyful harvest field. Come, merry song, and come the rustic dance. And let sweet music all our joys enhance ; Come, happy faces, round the Maypole high, And trip it lightly 'neath the summer sky ! JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 35 THE VOCAL CATALOGUE IN RHYME. " A mother's welcome smile" to the " Angel of peace," Where " The brave Volunteers" in " Town and Country" ne'er cease To " Be happy to-day," or " Be merry to-night," With " Barney O'Toole" and " The dark-eyed Gipsy Maid" in sight. " All around the ancient tree," in the " Beautiful Valley," " Alone I've wandered," in my " Boyhood," in the hope to sally Forth to the "Beautiful banks of the Tweed" with "The Gipsy King," Near the " Beautiful Sea," where " Fair Linder" " The Gipsy's dii'ge" did sing. " Dear Mother, smile again," " Oh, why so sad ?" " Come Live with me," *' I love the merry sunshine," and " The heart set free ;" *' I love the gentle moonlight," and " I love the morn ;" " I love the dewy twilight" in " The place where I was born ;" " I love the night," " Oh ! the merry starlight ]" and " Fd be a Gipsy" too. If " Sweet Mary of the vale" and " My old friend John" be true. " For love of thee" — from " My village home" on a " Summer morn" Fd rove " Through the fields" by " The ancient church," where " The sweetest rose is love I" " Can she be happy now ?" " The Cambrian maid" — " The friends we esteem" may vanish, and ths " Flowers may fade,"— " The fine old country Squire" to " The Queen of the wood" cries " Follow me" — Though " Gro\^dng old" — " Fear not I'll e'er forsake thee !" "Friar Tuck's chaunt" will be "The Gipsy's Lullaby"— " Farewell to thee"— " Good night, sweet love !" " My island home is free !" " Oh ! yes, I love thee,'' thou art " The mountain flower," " The voice that we love" in " The twilight hour;" 36 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. ♦' My friend and old companion," " 'Tis sad to part," — "There's none I love like thee," "Land of my heart," " O'er the hills, Bessie," with " The merry Gipsy band." " Ho ! merry England." " Know ye of that fair land?" " One morn in May I left the shore," " Over the wild, wild sea," with " Minnie Moore;" " Do not chide me," " Wilt thou then remember me ?" Thou wert " Lovely Nan" " When first I went to sea:" " Listen, 'tis the nightingale," or "The Elfin call," Or " The Sylph's Invitation" to " De colour'd Gemman's Ball!" " Wake, sweetest melody," " Under the sea," — " We see her no more" — " The woods, the woods for me \" " From our merry Swiss home" — " The Flower Queen," With " The God of Love," in " The Fairy Dance" was seen ; "The Syren and Friar" and "The Rose-gatherers" "Smile on;" " Could a man be secure" when the " Home of my youth" is gone ? " Over the waves" " We come to thee. Savoy !" With " The Knight and the Fairy" and the " The Gipsy Boy." You know " Tom Tough" — " How sad it is to say farewell!" " Long life to the grape" at "The Matin Bell." «' Come to the forest" " When streams in moonlight glisten," " The Ai-my and Navy" to "The merry Christmas bells" oft listen, " A sound comes on the rising breeze" — " Take care" — " Wife, children, and friends," and " The widow's prayer." " The three best gifts of nature," " Smiling Faces" say Are " The white rose," " Pretty orange blossoms," and " Wel- come, lovely May." At " The laurel-tree," by " My native streams," " Li the calm moonlight," " My Jamie, thou wert kind to me," and woujid oft delight Those " Loving hearts," " Fleurine," and " The King of the Beggars," and me. With " The merry dance beneath the oak," and " A sweet good night to thee." JOTTINGS, BY HANSFORD. 37 "The Gipsy Poacher," "The Fortune-teller," and "The Gipsy Flower Gu-1" " Sleep on," "The Cottager's Child" with "The Mummers" to "The Gipsies' Home" are gone ; " The monks of old" then sang " Come gang awa' wi^ me !" " The sea is England's glory !" " The Gipsy Miller" said ; " Here's to woman," " Forsake me not," " A Gipsy's Hfe for me!" " Faith I must be in love/' cried " The Moresco Maid " The white cliffs of England," shouted "The Smuggler King, And " Speed on, my gallant bark," on "St. Agnes' Eve/' I sing. " ^^^len shall we meet" " Tom BowHng," — " The Sisters' fleeting" with " The parting tear," Or " Poor Jack" and " Ben Backstay" " In pensive sadness" here ? " Hope on, my heart," "[|I'll sing of happy days" — " I'm King of the Sea !" then your " Kindly voices" raise. "True Courage/' my lads, "A bumper again" in "The Gipsy's Tent." " The Gipsy's blessing" to " The Fairy Bride" is sent. " Deeds, not words," and " Friendly actions," prove How " The wayside mourner" and " The merry Gipsy Queen" can love. " My Grandfather's Hat" on " The Minstrel of Savoy" Made "Pretty Patty Palmer" laugh at "The poor MarineBoy/' " Norah Malone," with "Nancy Bell" and " The stolen Child," sung To " The Child and the Dew-drops/' and delighted " Old and Young." In " Calms and storms" — " While old Time rolls gaily on" — " ^Yilt thou forget me ?" " My bonnie Rose" — " My own sweet one at honie'^ — " I'll dream of thee !" On " A midsummer day's ramble/' " Let me wander where I will"— For " Our British Volunteers" "The old tree blossoms still." 38 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. " rm weary of straying" with "Ellen of the Lea;" With "Spring," " The Future Flower," " My love is on the sea I" With the "Warbling bu'ds" "My guardian spirit goes," Accompanied by " The Sunbeam, the Dewdrop, and the Rose." By " The Oak and the Ivy," "With the fairies I would roam," To hear " The village bells" near " Our native home :" " Oh ! native scenes," when " The Queen of the night" " On the cold shores of the stranger" shines so bright ! " Rest, silly fiutterer, rest," " My loved one is returning" to " The land of my birth," To " Hang up his harp" on " The Old Elm Tree" on " The thirsty earth." Where " The merry bells of England" did at "The Gipsy's wedding" ring. And cheered "The old Mariner" "In the merry, merry Spring." THE MOUNTAIN FLOWER. The mountain flower, the mountain flower, That decks aUke the cot and bower, Whose beauty hails the coming Spring, And bids the pretty warblers sing ; 'Tis then that lambkins skip and play. And all things bright salute the May, While trees with smiling buds are seen. To glad this little mountain queen. Oh ! welcome. Spring's refreshing shower, That brings me back my mountain flower ; The sweetest gem I can behold. Whose fragrant perfume doth unfold, Its beauty is beyond compare, No flower to me is liaK so fair. It scents my path where'er I roam. And gilds my happy mountain home. JOTTINGS, BY HANSFORD. 39 COME, GANG AWA' WI' ME. Oh ! come, my love, the moon shmes bright Across yon rippling sea, Come, let thy heart be gay and light, And hasten, love, wi' me. 'Tis mony a night sin' first we met Beneath the gi-eenvrood tree, Then let thy heart be lighter yet. Come gang awa' wi' me. Oh ! tarry not, my only love, I've pledged myseK to thee, And by yon stars that shine above. For ever thine I'll be. 'Tis mony a night sin' first we met Beneath the greenwood tree ; Then say, ere yonder stars have set, Thou'lt gang awa' wi' me. Thy features are so fair, my love. Thy mind is ever free, Oh ! let thy willing heart still prove The love thou beai*'st to me. 'Tis mony a night sm' first we met Under the greenwood tree. Then say, ere yonder stars have set, I'll gang awa' wi' ye. YE GENTLE SHOWERS AND SINGING BIRDS. Ye gentle showers that on an April day In silver drops descend upon the earth. Send forth your genial influence o'er the ground, And give each blossom and each floweret birth. Ye singing birds, from every bough tune forth, And cheer all nature wdth your merry lay ; Bid budding trees their leafy branches spread. And hail with glee the joyous Queen of May ! 40 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. MERRY CHRISTMAS BELLS. Oh ! welcome, merry Christmas bells, "^Vhose cheering sound I've heard so oft. Which 'neath the starry heaven swells With melody so sweet and soft. Oh ! how ye glad the stranger's heart, While listening to those merry peals, And cause the tear of joy to start, As through the air your music steals. Oh ! welcome, merry Christmas, too. When friends from different jDlaces meet : ^Tis then we find the heart still true. Which makes our hajipiness complete. Dull care is banished from our home, And each his youthful story tells ; While sorrow near us cannot come. Thus cheered by merry Christmas bells. REMEMBRANCE OF THE PAST. Though blooming youth be faded, And pleasure's dream hath fled. Though fondest hopes have vanished, And clouds around us spread, Yet happiness sits smiling, Joy o'er our path is cast ; Then why should we not cherish Remembrance of the past ? Though years have fleeted o'er us And wi'inkled many a face, Though memory tells of sorrows Which time can ne'er efface ; Yet happiness sits smiling, Joy o'er our path is cast ; Then why should we not cherish Remembrance of the past ? JOTTINGS, BY KANSFORD. 41 YOUR SHOULDER TO THE WHEEL. As through this life you travel, boys, Ne'er give up, nor despair ; But meet each trouble bravely, boys, And nobly face each care. In every act be honest, boys. Let this your maxim be : — Press forwai'd vdih all honour, boys, With fortitude and glee. When trials shall confront you. Or o'er your pathway steal. Then buckle manly courage on — Your shoulder to the wheel ! March on, and be determined, boys, . Each evil motive shun ; Your object never lose, boys. The battle's to be won. Let truth and justice guide you, boys, In every act and deed ; If you your duty do, boys. You must and will succeed. When trials shall confront you. Or o'er your pathway steal. Then buckle manly courage on — Your shoulder to the wheel ! EPITAPH. (Written on a young Spendthrift wbo had wasted all his substance in drink and extravagance) . Here I lie, John Lumj), Wlio died not worth a dump. I lived so gay, and soaked my clay. Till I dried up the pump.* * Resources. 42 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. THE PLACE WHERE I WAS BORN. Near the church upon the hill — Near the brook beside the mill — Near the trees with varied hue, First my infant breath I drew. There the flowers the hills adorn — 'Tis the place where I was born. Wliere I sportively did play In life's merry month of May ; Where the pretty bii'ds did sing. And the merry peals did ring ; There I viewed the waving corn, linear the place where I was born. Where the fleecy flock doth feed In the fertile grassy mead ; Thither would my footsteps rove To the place I fondly love. There the birds proclaim the morn. In the place where I was born. There I spent my early hours All among the scented flowers ; There I formed my first conceit, There my youthful friends would meet. Oh ! my heart will never scorn The lovely place where I was born. RHYMING. A SHARP boy was asked by a friend — of all rhynus. Could he find a word rhyming with month ? Said the boy, " I once tried it a hundred times. And found it the hundred and onclh. JOTTINGS, BY HANSFORD. 43 A COPY OF A LETTER TO MY SISTER. 2(jth December, 1851. My dear Sister, — I now take up my pen (to use a hackneyed phrase) to tell you how we spent our Christmas Day yesterday. We were at first fearful we should be all alone ; but having paid a visit to our friends, Mr. and Mrs. , on Wednesday evening, we prevailed on them to dine with us, and allow their son and daughter to come to tea. We enjoyed ourselves very much, and did not forget to drink the health of all assembled at Bourton. Our friends had not long arrived before we were joined by the following distinguished and agreeable joersonages, who were right welcome at our board ; viz. Lord Rihs-of-heef (looking remarkably well), and Squire Plum-pudding, the latter (who is considered rich) being greatly heated, as though he had come from a distance, but evidently quite sweet ujion some- thing on the table; together with the Honourable Kidney Mealypotato dindi family, and the little Greens, who, I must tell you, soon after theii' arrival, got near the kitchen fire, fell into a large pot of boiling-water, and were severely scalded ; but I am hapi^y to say that, by the time dinner was ready, they appeared at the table with the rest of the company, looking none the worse for what had happened — indeed, their appear- ance gave general satisfaction, and added much pleasure to the assembled guests. Master Horse-radish was looking very pale, as though he had recently got into a scrape ; but the aiDplication of a little vinegar soon restored him, and he was as brisk as usual. The little Mince-pies looked plump and well ; and whether or not they had been stuffed too full before they came, I cannot say, but several of them left the table ere the cloth was removed. Farmer Good-bread and JDwrne Old-Cheddcr arrived before 44 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. dinner was quite concluded, and took their place at the table with Young Oelery, whom we considered much improved since he was last seen at the greengrocer's. This completed our guests, with the exception of Master Burton- ale, who had lately been to a hop, and had got chilled from visiting some friends in a cellar, he was looking very yelloiv, and was hitter cold. During the afternoon several toasts and sentiments were proposed and responded to ; viz. Lord Rihs-qf-heef proposed, " To all friends round the table." Responded to by the whole company. Squire Plum-pudding gave, " May our endeavours to please be crowned with success." Responded to by the Littte Mince-pies in some very spicy remarks. The HonouraUe Kidney Mealy-potato gave, " The land we lived m." Acknowledged very heartily by the little Greens. Master Horse-radish made a few observations, but was considered a stich. Master Burton-ale then proposed, in somewhat /ro^% terms, his old friends Farmer Grood-bread and Dame Old-chedder, whom he was always pleased to see on all occasions, and he hoped he should meet them for many years to come. Farmer Good-bread, who said he was at all times fond of a toast, briefly, but in a Jloury speech, returned thanks on behalf of the lady and himself; he was obliged to his young friend Master Burton-ale for the compliment he had paid them, and hoped he would soon gain more strength. Before he sat down, he begged he might be permitted to propose the next toast, which was the health of Young Celery — he said, they had gone hand in hand together for many years, and he hoped their friendship would last as long as they existed. Young Celery, who stood up in a! large glass, expressed his thanks for the honour conferred upon him, and gave as a concluding toast, " To our next merry meeting." JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 45 Some of our Iriends remained with us a few hours longer, and partook of a glass of wine and dessert, while the rest of the comjjany retired to the Larder, to take up their abode for the night with old Chine from Gloucestershire. I am, &c. &c. EDWIN RANSFORD. P.S. Master Holly and Miss 31istletoe came on Wednesday, and are expected to remain with us a week. MY BONNY JANE. As through the flowery meads I strayed To yonder cot across the plain, I met the pretty charming maid, My dearest life, my bonny Jane — My bonny, bonny Jane. I fondly pressed her gentle hand, And hoped that I her love might gain ; Had I the world at my command, I'd give it all for bonny Jane — My bonny, bonny Jane. At length the maiden gave consent. For love no longer could refrain ; My anxious heart was then content. And I was blest with bonny Jane — My bonny, bonny Jane. 46 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. NANCY BELL. Farewell to dee, Miss Nancy Bell, Farewell, farewell to dee ; What my heart feel no tongue can tell- Oh, sad wid grief is me ! De tought ob losin' one so dear Cause trouble to my mind ; Him cannot 'top de fallin' tear, For peace him neber find. Farewell to dee, &c. Oh, Nancy Bell ! oh, Nancy Bell ! My poor dear heart will break ; Him neber can again be well, Wid pain him bosom ache. Oh, when him tink upon dat day We met in de rice fiel' — Him bery heart melt quite away, De wound it neber heal. Farewell to dee, &c. Miss Nancy Bell, Miss Nancy Bell, Her looks were full ob lub. Her voice was like de nightingale, Dat fill de air abub. But now she gone, for eber gone. In de dark grabe she lie, And him am left all sad and lone To pine away and die. Farewell to dee, &c. CLEVER ANCESTORS. In speaking of his ancestry, A hoj, who pleasure took. Said, one was very clever, he Once wi'ote a lyrinted hook ! JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 47 ACROSTIC. Ever will I dwell with thee, Dearest treasure of my heart ; While thy love is fixed on me, I from thee ^nll never part. None but thou shalt ever share Riches, or whate'er be mine ; And though sorrow come with care, Never shall my love decline. Seek with me domestic bliss. From which joy and comforts rise; Oh ! may we exioerience this ! Rendering life a lasting prize ; Dearest — Love hath no disguise I MY OWN SWEET ONE AT HOME. Though far across the trackless sea I'm destined, love, to roam, I'll ever constant be to thee, My own sweet one at home. The thought of thee shall cheer my heart When bounding o'er the main ; And though 'tis sad, dear girl, to part, We hope to meet again. I may with many perils meet, And many hardships, too ; But this one thought shall make them sweet, My own idear ghi is true I And when I've served my time at sea. Then back to thee I'll come. And to my fond heart welcome thee. My own sweet one at home ! 48 JOTTrNUS, BY RANSFOPvD. WHEN SUMMER COMES. When summer comes with all things gay. And nature blooms around, How sweet it is through fields to stray Where flowers adorn the ground ! The ploughboy then goes whistling on, Nor fears what ill may come. And w^hen his daily work is done, Contented smiles at home. The lark with quivering wing on high Sends forth a thrilling strain. And after soaring to the sky. With joy returns again. The freshness of the new-mown hay With perfume fills the air. The song-birds chant their merry lay, Dispelling every care. At eve, when all is calm and still, What happiness is seen ! We welcome each with right good will, And trip it o'er the green ; Our hearts are joyous, light, and free, While bright is every eye ; And thus we dance with merry glee Beneath a summer sky. MARTINS AND SWALLOWS. When seated one day at the family meal. The host was observing, and spoke a good deal — That the summer had now nearly gone — and that he A very few martins and swallows could see. Said his boy, with a bright cunning smile on his face, Li words Avhich were nearly as follows : " Though the martins have nearly all quitted the place. They've left behind plenty of swallows!''' JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 49 COME, FILL YOUR GLASSES TO THE BRIM ! Come, fill your glasses to the brim ! Wine cheers the manly heart of him "Who drinks and fills again. Then let the sparkling bowl go round, Until it hath an empty sound, While yet Ave here remain. Let each one toast his favourite lass, While we around the table pass The bowl, the mighty bowl. Let's drink while wit and wine delight. Until the eye shall sparkle bright, Of each true jovial soul. And ere we part, let's laugh and sing, Old time is ever on the wing. So now let's merry be. And when we meet again, my boys, We'll glory in each other's joys. And quafi' right merrily ! MINT-SAUCE. When travelling one Spring with my wife in the train, On a beautiful, clear, and bright sunshiny day. Our eye caught some lambs in a field by a lane, Which were sporting about and enjoying their play. Said my -svife, " Do but look at those dear little lambs. How they skip, and they jump, and their little heads toss." Said I, " they seem happy enough by their dams ; I loonder if ever they've heard of mint-sauce !" H 50 JOTTINQS, BY KANSFURD. MY BONNY ROSE. There lives a lassie in the west, So lovely, sweet, and fair I Whose gentle words inspire my breast With joys beyond compare. There's nought on land, nor on the sea, Nor in the wind that blows. That's half so sweet, so dear to me, As thou, my bonnie Rose ! Her breath is like the scented flowers That bloom in early spring ; Her voice like music glads the hours. So sweetly does she sing ! For thee, dear maid, in wonder yet, My ardent bosom glows ; And nought can make me e'er forget My sweet, my bonnie Rose. O'ER THE MIGHTY WATERS BLUE. O'er the mighty waters blue We carol our songs away ; Our bark goes light and merrily, too. As it dashes aside the spray. While happily thus we glide along. We've nought around to fear ; And this shall be our daily song, A health to those most dear I We'll think on friends we've left behind On England's happy shore ; And thus shall memory bring to mind The kind hearts we adore. While merrily thus we glide along. So happily side by side, We'll gaily chant our joyous song. And skim the foaming tide. JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 51 GOOD NIGHT, SWEET LOVE! The silvery moon is shining bright. The stars are shedding forth their light ; While balmy breezes bear along The sound of Pliilomel's lone song. Good night, sweet love ! yet, ere we part, I pledge to thee a constant heart ; May purest joys thy mind delight ! Good night, sweet love — sweet love, good night ! The dusky shades are gathering round ; The dewy mist o'erspreads the ground ; — And hark ! the distant curfew bell Now tells us we must say farewell ! Good night, sweet love ! peace to thy rest, And may soft slumbers soothe thy breast ! May blissful dreams thy mind delight ! Good night, sweet love — sweet love, good night ! HAPPY, BEAUTEOUS ROSE. Hail, thou happy, beauteous rose, In all thy youthful pride ! May sweet content and soft repose For ever round thee glide ! As youth with years shall pass away, May'st thou ne'er feel time's dart ; But ever liloom like flowers in May, Thy sweetness to impart. 'Tis sweet to gaze on thy loved face, And view thy beaming eye ; In thy fair image I can trace " Bright hope beyond the sky. May all that's joyous, all that's dear, Be ever thine sweet maid ! May'st thou love's brightest laurels wear,- A wreath which ne'er can fade ! 52 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. SUMMER MORN. With pleasure and delight I stray Across the meadows green, When birds sing sweetly on each spray, And gladsome make the scene. The perfume of the new-mown hay, And fields of waving corn, Unite to make the scene more gay. All on a summer morn. The lark soars high with quivering wing, And warbles forth its song ; While village bells that gaily ring Beguile the hours along. 'Tis then I view all nature gay, And sweetest flowers adorn Both hill and dale, where'er I stray All on a summer morn. IN THE MERRY MOONLIGHT. In the merry moonlight, when the stars shine bright. Beneath the shade of the old oak tree, AVe troll the gay song throughout the night long. Then who so happy, so happy as we ? We sing and dance. We laugh, ha ! ha ! Then who so happy, so happy as we ? In the dead of night, when all is still. And flocks and herds are lulled to sleep. All slowly flows the rippling rill. While we our Gipsy revels keep. JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 53 IN REPLY TO A PRESENT RECEIVED FROM MRS. KNAPP, DECEMBER, 1855. My dear Mrs. Knapp, A ring and a rap Brought a present this morning from you ; I only can say 'Twas a handsome display, Wlien opened it Avas to our view. Many thanks for the same, Of pig, duck, and game, Which came up so snugly together ; The pork, I've no douht, Will be splendid, about Two o'clock, this kind of weather. And as for the duck — If we have only good luck — To day, about tioo, we shall taste it ; ^ No doubt we shall find It just to our mind. If the cook A\dll but only well baste it. The dear little pheasant Will, I'm sure, be most pleasant To all of our tastes when we eat it ; Fine poultry and meat Are at all times a treat. But game ! — there is nothing to beat it. ON THE MARRIAGE OF A YOUNG LADY TO A MR. AP(P)LETREE. An apple-tree, the other day, Was wedded to a lady fair ; From such a union I should say We may expect a bonny pair (pear). 54 JOTTINGS, BY KANSFORD, COME, SING ME THE BALLAD; OR, THE WALK THROUGH THE GLEN. Come, sing me the ballad you sang t'other day, Wliich i^leased me so much ; come, sing it I pray ; *Twas all about walking with Kate through the glen ; Come, sing it me now — I'll not ask you again. What pleasure it gave me when hearing you sing About buying for Katherine the gold wedding-ring ! Do sing it, dear boy ; as, when last time we met, The rapture it gave me I ne'er shall forget. I'd sing you the ballad with pleasure ; but fear. Unless the dear Katherine, sweet ^darling, were here, I should only break doAvn in the heart of my song ; And that you know, madam, would be very Avrong ; Oh ! pray do not ask me to sing it you now ; I'm not in the humour; but this PU avow — The next time we meet, pray ask me again. And I'll promise to sing you, " The Walk through the Glen." A ROUND. Dear, lovely Nancy, I know she is fair ; She's pure from all guile, and she's free from all care ; Music's in all the sweet tones of her voice, That charms all around, and makes all hearts rejoice ; Hound about the may-pole she will join the happy throng. And sit and sing at eve her merry, merry song ! ON MEETING MY OLD FRIEND, MR. LAKE, ON A COLD FROSTY MORNING. My dear Mr. Lake, you shiver and shake As though the cold weather had froze you ; You tie up your face, that one can't get a trace Of your features — and nobody knows you. JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 55 DE HANDSOME NIGGER GAL. As him was walkin' out one day Near massa's old plantation, Him met a handsome nigger gal Wid lips like de carnation. " Good mornin', sar ! " says she to me, For she did 'pear to know me ; " Oh, don't you know de nigger gal Dat libs wid Massa Crowley?" she's a handsome nigger gal, A berry handsome nigger ; Den, come, ye darkies, sing wid me Ob dis here handsome nigger ! Says him, am you dat lubly gal Dat him see through de casement ? And when she tell him dat she was, Him stare and look wid 'mazement. For him had often seen her dare, In Massa Crowley's kitchen ; And wished dat him could call her his, She 'pear so berry 'witchin'. she's a handsome, &c. But on dis day she dress so smart, Wid sich a lubly sash on, Him tought him neber see de like, She look de pink ob fashion ! Him ask her den to take him arm, Dat we might stroll togedder, She smile, him laugh, and den him grin, — Says she, " What lubly wedder ! " she's a handsome, &c. And den him gaze upon her face. So 'mirin' ebry feature ; Him neber sec sich nigger gal As dis here lublv creature ! 56 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFOED. " Oh, massa Jim, me lub you much ! " She said, wicl voice so mellow ; " Me see you bery often, sar ! You bery nice young fellow ! " she's a handsome, &c. And den him offer her him heart, And all de lub widin it ; Says she — " Me will not 'cept de gift, But see if me can win it." So den we iDlay de lubber game. And boaf come off bigtorious. She win him heart, and him win hers,- Den marry, and lib glorious ! she's a handsome, &c. TELL ME, IS THY HEART STILL MINE? Is thy heart still mine, dear maid — Truly, as when first we met ? Tell me, are the vows we made Cherished in thy bosom yet ? — When we heard the spring birds sing, Tuning forth their merry lays ; When the lark rose on the wing. Joining in sweet notes of praise, — TeU me, is thy heart still mine ? Is it mine, when breaks the morn In its lofty radiance fair ; When gay flowers the meads adorn. And their fragrance scents the air ; When the night-breeze winds along, And all nature's lulled to rest ; When the nightingale's lone song Sweetly warbles in the west — Tell me, is thy heart still mine ? JOTTINGS, BY HANSFORD. 57 TO MY MOTHER, ON MT BIRTHDAY. Just fifty years ago, As you, dear mother, know, My eyes first saw the light ; But if 'twere day or night I really cannot say, My mind was so astray. And what with one and t'other, / scarcely knew my mother ; And if I 'gan to cry, I was watched by every eye.; And then so smothered up, Like some old lovmy cup. Until I did leave off, Or was troubled with a cough ; When I was then unwrapped, And either gruelled or papi)ed ! But when my voice was still, And I had had my fill, Nui'se took me from my nest And got me quickly dressed, As she the story tells. And then old Doctor Wells Turned back his hair and smiled, And looked upon the child. And said, with so much joy, " Dear ! ivhat a thumping hoy ! I assure you, my good ma-am, He's quite a little lamb !" And when he turned away And mshed us all good day. And all again was quiet, And I had had more diet, I snoodled down to rest Upon my mother's breast ; And as I felt a little nappy, I fell asleep, and slept quite happy ! i 58 JOTTINGS, BY HANSFORD. WOMAN. Woman — made of tenderness ! That thou should'st man supremely bless In weal or woe ; In affluence or in poverty, Thou sliould'st his joy and solace be While here below. Woman — Emblem of all good ! I'd sing thy virtues, if I could. Throughout all time ; At home — abroad — on land or sea — I'd ever raise my voice to thee In notes sublime. AVoman — be thou ever blest ! Of every joy be thou possessed From age to age ; May minds of Poets still indite — And they ne'er cease thy worth to write In every page. TAKING AFTER FATHER AND MOTHER BOTH. Our man, who was always a long time at meals, Once was asked how it was by my brother. Said the man, " Avhy 'tis plain enough, Sir, — you must knoAv I takes after both Father and Mother. " " How's that ?" — " Why the truth is" — Jim quaintly replied — (And none of the neighbours need doubt it) — "My Father's a man, Sir, who eats a good deal, And Mother's a long time about it T' ON LEAVING MY NATIVE VILLAGE AFTER A VISIT IN 1858. Adieu, adieu, once more adieu, To thee, dear home, I love so well ! When next again we may renew Our happy meeting, who can tell? JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 59 ALONE rVE WANDERED BY THE STREAM. Alone I've wandered by the stream, Beside yon sunny hill, When thoughts of bygone days would teem To hear the merry Mill. 'Twas there my early time was spent With those I deemed most dear ; ^Twas there I learned to be content With homely cottage cheer. Alas ! those happy days are past, And others meet my sight ; But yet, so long as life shall last, I'll hail them with delight. Yes, when old age comes creeping near, With heavy, tlioughtful gaze, 'Twill still my drooping spirits cheer To speak of bygone days. COME, DANCE 1 Come, dance beneath the forest trees, Where fairies v/eave their spells, Where wafts the cooling summer breeze From groves and silent dells ; There shines the bright and silvery moon In splendour o'er the vale, There pipes the low, melodious tune Of the lone Nightingale ; There twinkling stars from out the sky Gaze on with merry look ; While through the meads flow rippling by The streamlet and the brook. Yes, there come dance the night away, Till morn begins to break, And Phoebus darts a glowing ray Across the peaceful lake. 60 .JOTTING^:, UY RANSFORD. TIIERFS MUSIC IN THY VOICE. There's music in thy voice, my love. There's magic in thine eye ; Yes, there are charms in thee, my love. All other charms outvie. With fond deliglit I gaze upon Thy happy, smiling face. And hope to be the favoured one Whom thou'lt for ever grace. Oh ! were I lord of this fair land, It still would be my pride To own alike thy heart and hand, And claim thee for my bride. Then say, my love, thou'lt ever share With me my humble lot, And then my every anxious care Will be by me forgot. QUEEN OF SONG ! OR THE VALENTINE. Fair Lady, beauteous Queen of song ! May brightest joys to thee belong ! May blessings still, both rich and rare, Attend thy footsteps everywhere ! Were I the richest in the land, And could have wealth at my command, I'd give it all to call thee mine, And be thy constant Valentine ! JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. 61 QUEEN OF THE WOOD ! 'TwAS on one morning early, When birds began to sing, I wandered tlirougii the wildwood, ^Mid perfumed flowers of spring. And there I met a damsel, Most beautiful and fair. Looking for sweet primroses To deck her flowing hair. My heart with soft emotion Was trembling as I stood. While gazing on the maiden, The Flower Queen of the wood ! Her form was light and graceful, Her footsteps bounded free, Her heart seemed overflowing With joy and purity ; Her cheeks were like the roses, In all the blush of youth ; Her eyes beamed like the morning, All full of love and truth. My heart with soft emotion Still trembled as I stood, While gazing on the maiden. The Flower Queen of the wood ! WELCOME, QUEEN OF MAY! Oh ! welcome, welcome, Queen of May ! With sunshine and sweet flowerets gay, And all that doth to thee belong, We hail with rapture in our song. Then let rich harmony abound, With music let the air resound. And ere to-morrow's dawn be seen, We'll render homage to our Queen ! 62 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD, LINES TO A YOUNG LADY. A young Lady, while on a visit at my house on one occasion, resolved, with the concurrence and assistance of Mrs. R. on playing me a trick; and, getting together a quantity of little hones and wrapping them up in several pieces of paper, placed them in a cigar box, tied up the whole in a piece of brown paper, and directed it to me. This being done, she arranged with the servant that she should, in the morning at breakfast time, ring the door-hell and then hring in the parcel as though it had just heen left. The girl obeyed orders and brought in the parcel, keeping her countenance well at the same time, just as we were all three seated at the table, I thinking, as I took off the paper, that some unknown friend had sent me a present of a box of cigars ; but, on opening the box and unwrapping some of the papers in which the bones were enclosed, I soon discovered, much to the amusement of the young lady and my wife, and my own disap- pointment, that I had been tricked. After having had a good laugh over it, I resolved on retaliating, but waited my oppor- tunity. The young lady left us soon afterAvards for her home in the country, and her birthday being near at hand, I fixed on that day to send her a present and gratify my innocent revenge ; and having in the house one of those Lidia-rubber dolls, such as are sold in the streets of London, which the lady had seen often before, and which had lost an eye, I thought that that would do well for my purpose. I obtained a paper jewel-case and plenty of wadding of a friend, into which I laid the said doll, and then wrote the following lines and placed them just inside the lid — packed the box in some writing paper, sealed it — du^ected it to the young lady — and sent it off by post the day before her birthday : — Make haste and take me, darling dear, I'm really almost stifled here ; Remove me from this horrid case, I'm black, or nearly, in the face. I cannot speak my tale to tell ; But when you look, you'll hnoiv me well. JOTTINGS, BY HANSFORD. 63 I've hastened here without delay- To gi'eet you on your natal day ; UnwTap me carefuUij, dear child, I'm very weak, so " draio it mild" And if I should at all offend, I'll come no more, you may depend. Nay, treat me not with such disdain (I tell you / wont conne again) ; Nor be unkind, because that I Have had ill-luck, and lost an eye. I'm sent to you by way of treat, By your old friend in Welbeck Street ; My name is neither Smith nor Jones, Nor am I made of little hones ! MY LOVED ONE IS RETURNING My loved one is returning ! His bark is on the main, — With joy. my heart is burning To see him once again. I hear him gaily singing The songs of days gone by, Whose sounds to me come winging In sweetest melody. The waves with pride are swelling, His gallant bark to bear, And every breeze is telling My love will soon be here. The sun is brightly throA\ang His rays upon the sea ; While swift the tide is floAving That brings my love to me. 64 JOTTINGS, BY RANSFORD. WHO CAN TELL? What may to-morrow be, Who can tell ? Will it yield delight to me, Who can tell ? Will the sunshine of to-day Shine with still a brighter ray ; Or will sweet hope pass away. Who can tell ? What may to-morrow bring. Who can tell ? Shall we mourn, or shall we sing, Who can tell ? Will our prospects, now so bright. Darken, and become as night ; Or will joy still meet our sight, Who can tell ? How will to-morrow close. Who can tell ? Will it give us sweet repose, Who can tell ? Shall we then no sorrow know, Nought to cause our tears to flow-; Or may we be filled with woe, Who can tell ? EXTRAORDINARY NOTICE ! The following, I am told, was given out very bold. One Sunday morning, by the Parish clerk ; A person that I knew assured me it was true. In a village church not far from St 11 Park. '* This is to give notice, that no jjerson is to be buried in this churchyard but those living in the parish ; and those who loisli to be buried are desired to aj)ply to me, R. Hall, Parish Clerk." J0TTIN0.5, BY RAX,