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Farewell, dear village, oh, farewell!

Soft on the gale thy murmur dies: 1 hear thy solemn evening, bell,

Thy spires yet glad my aching eyes, Though frequent falls the dazzling tear,

I scorn to shrink from fate's decree: And think not, cruel maid, that e'er

I'd heave another sigh for thee.

Adieu, my native, &c

In vain through shades of frowning night,

Mine eyes thy rocky coast explore:
Deep sinks the fiery orb of light,

I view thy beacons now no more.
Rise! billows, rise! blow hollow winds!

Nor mght, nor storms, nor death I fear,
Unfriended bear me hence, to find

That peace which fate denies me here.

Adieu, my native, &c.

CEASE YOUR PUNNING.

Cease your funning,

Force or cunning,
Never shall my heart trepan;

All these sallies,

Are but malice,
To seduce my constant man.

Tis most certain,

By their flirting,
Women oft have envy shown;

Pleas'd to ruin,

Others wooing,
Never happy in their own.

HERE'S THE BOWER.

Here's the bow'r she lov'd so much,

And here's the tree she planted;
Here's the harp she us'd to touch,

Oh! how that touch enchanted!
Roses now unheeded sigh,

Where's the hand to wreathe them?
Songs around neglected lie,

Where's the lips to breathe them?

Spring may bloom, but she we lov'd

Ne'er shall feel its sweetness;
Time that once so fleetly mov'd,

Now hath lost its fleetness.
Years were days when here she stray'd,

Days were moments near her;
Heaven ne'er form'd a brighter maid,

Nor pity wept a dearer.

LOVE IN THE HEART.

What is it that drives the red rose from the cheek,
Or the lily displaces with blushes that speak;
That dims the bright beam by a tear in the eye;
That checks a young smile by a murmuring sigh—,
Tis love ; 'tis love in the heart.

And what bids the soul the emotion declare,
By the glance of the eye, when the lips do not dare—
And what, when its meaning another can guess,
Emboldens the tongue the fond thought to express—.

'Tis love, &c.

THE BANNER OF WAR.

Behold the Britannia! how stately and brave
She floats on the ambient tides!

For empire design'd, o'er the turbulent waves!
How trim and how gallant she rides!

Yet love in a true Briton's heart,

With glory contends for a part; And the fair cheek of beauty with tears is impearl'd, When the banner, the banner of war is unfurl'd.

On the shore how alert, how intrepid the crew;

How firm at their sovereign's command; Or dauntless o'er ocean her foes to pursue, And die for the cause of our land! Yet one tear ere the heroes depart,. One sigh shall be drawn from the heart: One kiss on the cheek which sweet sorrow's impearl'd, When the banner, the banner of war is unfurl'd.

Now forth to the conquest! the battle swells high,

And fierce round the vessel it roars; Hark! the sons of Britannia, "to victory!" cry, And victory sounds to our shores: Then peaceful again to their home, Shall the patriot warriors come; No more the fair cheek shall with tears be impearl'd, But the banner of peace stand for ever unfurl'd.

THE BRAVE OLD OAK.

A Song to the Oak, the brave old Oak,

Who hath ruled in the green wood long, Here's health and renown to his broad green crown,

And his fifty arms so strong.
There's fear in his frown, when the sun goes down,

And the fire in the west fades out,
And he sheweth his might on a wild midnight,
When the storm through his branches shout.
Then here's to the Oak, the brave old Oak,

Who stands in his pride alone,
And still flourish he a hale green tree,
When a hundred years are gone.

In the days of old when the spring with cold,

Had brightened his branches grey,
Through the grass at his feet, crept maidens sweet,

To gather the dew of May.
And on that day to the rebeck gay,

They frolicked with lovesome swains;
They are gone, they are dead, in the churchyard laid,

But the tree it still remains.

Then here's, &c.

He saw the rare times, when the Christmas chimes

Was a merry sound to hear, When the squire's wide hall, and the cottage small

Were filled with good English cheer.
Now gold hath the sway, we all obey,

And a ruthless king is he,
But he never shall send, our ancient friend,

To be tossed on the stormy sea.

Then here's, &c.

HE WAS SUCH A NICE YOUNG MAN.

If pity dwell within your breast,

Some sympathy pray spare,
Of love that breaks young ladies' rest,

Indeed I've had my share.
His form is ever in my sight,

Forget I never can,
I'm haunted by him day and night,

He was such a nice young man.

Twas at a ball held in the west,

On me he first did glance,
So gently he my fingers press'd,

And asked me out to dance;
I blushed and whispered No, no, no,

Then smiling, dropt my fan,
For how could I refuse to dance,

He was such a nice young man.

The dance now o'er, my hand he took,

And led me to a seat,
And sighing, gave me such a look,

I'd ne'er seen one so sweet.
Refreshments begged of me to take,

I did the dainties scan, Alas! Pd lost my appetite,

He was such a nice young man.

When growing late about to leave,

It rained in torrents fast,
Said he, Dear Miss, I really grieve,

I fear that it will last;
Then quick he hurried from the room,

And for a coach he ran;
His kindness quite o'erpower'd me,

He was such a nice young man.

As thro'' the hall we went along,

He begg'd for my address,
I gave it him, not thinking wrong,

He was in such distress;
His card emboss'd he handed me,

With "Captain" Miss, I am,
My stars! thought I, 0 here's a chance,

He was such a nice young man.

Next morning drest and breakfast done,

Heart beating with desire,
The hall-door bell was loudly rung,

Enough to break the wire;
I thought I should have died with fright,

Up came our servant Ann,
A gentleman, Miss, waits below,

He is such a nice young man.

Almost I'd sunk 'twixt hope and fear,

I wisb/d I was afar,
Guess my surprise him now to hear

Conversing with Mamma:

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