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WHAT IS IT TO LOVE.

Stranger, didst thou ever prove,
Ever what it is to love!
Stranger, didst thou ever feel,
What thou tremblest to reveal!
I have prov'd, and I have felt,
What a heart of stone would melt.

Stranger, didst thou ever sigh,
Knowing not the reason why?
Didst thou blush, if one lov'd name,
E'er in conversation came?
Stranger, ne'er my cause deride,
Though, I own, I've blush'd and sigh'd.

If his eye thine eye has met,
Blushes did it not beget?
If his praises reach'd thine ear,
Seem'd there not enchantment near?
Him I've met, his praise I've prov'd,
Where is now my best belov'd?

THE GIRL I APPROVE.

You ask me what sort of a girl I approve;
Few words shall express my desire;

Her face must be fair, like the mother of Love,
Like her, are the charms I admire.

Bright beauty alone, shall not conquer my heart, The maid to my mind must have more,

More charms to enslave than Beauty's keen dart,
For wit and good sense I adore.

Her beauty, wit, and good sense combined,
Should not fix me her servant for life;

But her manner so sweet, her temper so kind,
Are the charms I seek in a wife.

THINK ON THAT LOOK OF HUMID RAY.

Think on that look of humid ray,
Which for a moment mix'd with mine;

And for that moment seem'd to say,
I dare not, or I would be thine.

Think, think on ev'ry smile and glance,
On all thou hast to charm or move;

And then forgive my bosom's trance,
And tell me 'tis not sin to love.

Oh ! not to love thee were a sin;

For sure if heaven's decrees be done,
Thou, thou art destin'd still to win,

As I was destin'd to be won!

WINE EXPANDS THE SOUL.

When generous wine expands the soul,
How pleasure hovers round the bowl,
Avaunt ye cares of Fancy's crew,
And give the guilty wretch his due:
But let the juice of sparkling wine,
My grosser sense of love refine:
As Jove his nectar drinks above,
I'll quaff whole goblets full of love.

Then why should I at life repine;

Bring me, Venus, bring me wine,

Fill the ever-flowing bowl,

In circles gay and pleasures roll.

Ever open, ever free,

Hail thou friend to jollity;

My brows with Bacchus' chaplets crown d,

I'll live to love—my cares are drown'd.

COME YIELD AND BE MY LOVE.

As Kate and I down in the glade
The other afternoon we stray'd,

We talk'd of nought but love.
Her sweet black eyes, her cheeks so fair,
Outvies the lily's bloom by far,

That grows in yonder grove.

I said my Kitty, lovely maid,

"We sure were for each other made,

Come yield, and be my love.
We both sat down upon the ground,
Whilst silence seem'd to reign around,

She yielded to my love.

THE SAILOR'S ADIEU.

Young William was a sailor bold,

A tar renown'd for fame;
He lov'd his Nancy more than gold;

He bless'd her virtuous name.

Fair Nancy said with fault'ring voice,

And heav'd a tender sigh,
My dearest William you're my choice,

With you I'd live and die.

The ship's unmoor'd, I must away,
"Twas thus fond William said,

My messmates call, I must obey;
Then weep not charming maid.

With parting kiss he bade adieu,
And vow'd he'd constant prove,

With heartfelt grief his Nancy true,
Shed tears for William's love.

FOR NOW THE WIND A TEMPEST BLOWS.

The morn was fair, and fresh the breeze,

When anchor weigh'd and blithe the crew, We scudded cheerly o'er the seas.

And bade the distant shores adieu. As on we sail'd, some flying squalls

Along the western welkin rose; * Turn up, my lads,' the boatswain calls,

For now the wind a tempest blows.

The top-sails dous'd the squall flew past,

Our vessel righted on her keel: Again the sails ascend the mast,

Again we hope and transport feel! But soon were hope and transport lost,

Again the weather scud came o'er. Against the rocks our vessel toss'd,

And stranded on our native shore.

I SAW HER AT THE FANCY FAIR.

I Saw her at the fancy fair,

Where yonth and beauty joyful met—

The loveliest of the lovely there,

Ne'er shall I that girl forget—that girl forget.

No one can pass her coolly by:

Fairer than all she was, yet meek— Heaven was in her diamond eye,

And roses crimson'd o'er her cheek.

And roses crimson'd o'er her cheek.

To nature's gayest scenes she lent

A sweet, a soul-enchanted spell; At home, abroad, where'er she went,

How lov'd, how courted, none can tell—none, none can tell.

Mid dazzling splendour there arrayed,
She urg'd the sacred chums of woe,

As gracefully her tresses play'd
O'er neck—that mock'd the mountain snow,
O'er neck—o'er neck that mock'd the mountain

BARNEY BRALLAGHAN'S COURTSHIP.

Twas on a windy night,

At two o'clock in the morning,
An Irish lad so tight,

All wind and weather scorning,
At Judy Callaghan's door,
Sitting upon the palings,
His love tale he did pour,
And this was part of his wailings—
Only say

You'll have Mr. Brallaghan,
Don't say nay,
Charming Judy Callaghan.

O list to what I say,

Charms you've got like Venus,
Own your love you may,

There's only the wall between us.
You lay fast asleep,

Snug in bed and snoring,
Round the house I creep,

Your hard heart imploring.

Only say, &c.

I've got nine pigs and a sow,

I've got a sty to sleep 'em;
A calf and a brindled cow,

And got a cabin to keep em.

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