A curious tale I'm going to unfold
To all of you, as I am told,

About a soldier stout and bold,

Whose wife 'tis said was an arrant scold.

At Waterloo he lost an arm,

Ri too ral, &c.

Which gave him pain and great alarm,
But he soon got well, and grew quite calm.
For a shilling a day was a sort o' balm.

Ri too ral, &c

The story goes, on every night,
His wife would bang him left and right,
So he determined out of spite,

To have an arm, cost what it might.

Ri too ral, &c.

He went at once, strange it may seem,
To have one made, to work by steam,
For a ray of hope began to gleam,
That force of arms would win her esteem.
Ri too ral, &c.

The limb was finished, and fixed unto
His stump of a shoulder, neat and true,
You'd have thought it there by nature grew,
For it stuck to its place as tight as glue.

Ri too ral, &c.

He started home, and knock'd at the door,
His wife her abuse began to pour,
He turned a small peg, and before
He'd time to think, she fell on the floor.

Ri too ral, &c.

With policemen soon the place was fill'd,
But every one he nearly kill'd,
For the soldier's arm had been so drill'd,
That once in action, it could'nt be still'd.
Ri too ral, &c.

They took him at once before the Mayor,
His arm kept moving all the while there,
The Mayor cried, "Shake your fist if you dare!"
When the steam arm knock'd him out of his chair.
Ri too ral, &c.

This rais'd in court a bit of clamour,
The arm going like an auctioneer's hammer
It fell in weight like a paviour's rammer,
And many with fear began to stammer.
Ri too ral, &c,

He was locked in a cell, from doing harm,
To satisfy them who had still a qualm,
When all at once they had an alarm,
Down fell the walls, and out popp'd the arm.
Ri too ral, &c.
He soon escaped, and reached his door,
And knocked by steam raps half a score,
But as the arm in power grew more and more,
Bricks, mortar, and wood soon strew'd the floor.
Ri too ral, &c.

With eagerness he stepped over each chair,
Popp'd into the room, his wife was there,
O come into my arms, she cried! my dear,
When his steamer smash'd the crockery ware.
Ri too ral, &c.

He left his house, at length outright,
And wanders about just like a sprite;

For he can't get sleep either by day or night,
And his arm keeps moving with two horse might.
Ri too ral, &c.

CHILD OF EARTH WITH THE GOLDEN
HAIR.

CHILD of earth with the golden hair,
Thy soul's too pure and thy face too fair,

To dwell with creatures of mortal mould,
Whose lips are warm as their hearts are cold!
Roam, roam, to our fairy home,

Child of earth with the golden hair.

Thou shalt dance with the fairy queen, Through summer nights, on the moonlit green, To music murmuring sweeter far,

Than ever was heard 'neath the morning star!
Roam, roam, &c.

I'll rob of its sweet the humble bee,
I'll crush the wine from the cowslip tree;
I'll pull the berries, I'll trap the bed,
Of downy moss, and the poppies red.

Roam, roam, &c.

Dim sleep shall woo thee, my darling boy,
In her mildest moods with dreams of joy,
And when the morning ends her reign,
Pleasure shall bid thee welcome again.

Roam, roam, &c.

THERE'S A LIGHT IN HER LAUGHING EYE.

THERE'S a light in her laughing eye,

A sparkling beam from the mind within ;

As the lightning's flash in the sky,

Tis a gleam from the world that knows no sin. There's a charm in her gracious smile,

A charm that drives each doubt away:

As the dawn to some favor'd isle,

Is the dawn of hope to some glorious day.

There's a light, &c.

O, there's a charm in her gentle sigh,
A voice that whispers of joy and love;
As the murmuring breeze in its melody.

'Tis a whisper we catch from the blest above.
There's a light, &c.

SOME LOVE TO ROAM.

SOME love to roam o'er the dark sea foam,
Where the shrill winds whistle free;
But a chosen band in a mountain land,
And life in the woods for me.

When morning beams in the mountain streams,
Oh! merrily forth we go;

To follow the stag o'er the slippery crag,

And to chase the bounding roe.

Ye ho, ye ho, &c.

The deer we mark, in the forest dark,

And the prowling wolf we track ;

And our right good cheer i' the wild wood here,
Oh, why should the hunter lack?
With steady aim at the bounding game,
And a heart that fears no foe;

To the darksome glade in the forest shade,
Oh, merrily forth we go.

Ye ho, ye ho, &c.

ISABEL.

WAKE! dearest wake! and again united,
We'll rove by yonder sea,

And where our first vows of love were plighted,
Our last farewell shall be.

There oft I have gaz'd on thy smiles delighted, And there I'll part from thee.

Isabel! Isabel! Isabel!

One look, tho' that look be in sorrow,

Fare thee well! fare thee well! fare thee well!
Far hence I shall wander to-morrow.

Dark is my doom, and from thee I sever,
Whom I have lov'd alone;

"Twere cruel to link thy fate for ever,

With sorrow like my own.

Go smile on livelier friends, and never

Lament me when I'm gone.

Isabel, &c.

And when at length in these lovely bow'rs,

Some happier youth you see;

And you cull for him Spring's sweetest flow'rs,
And he sings of love to thee.

When you laugh with him at these vanish'd hours, Oh! tell him to love like me.

Isabel, &c.

THE DEW IS ON THE GRASS.

SOFTLY, Softly will I pass,

As I steal out, love, to thee,
When the dew is on the grass,
And the moonlight on the tree.
When the soft winds in the shade,
Murmur fitfully in sleep,
And the hues of daylight fade,

In the bosom of the deep.

When the dew is on the grass,

And the moonlight on the tree, Softly, softly will I pass,

As I steal out to thee.

Gently, gently will I glide,

To our quiet trysting tree,
When the sun's last beam hath died,
And the stars look on the sea;
When the moonbeam pale and cold,
Glances thro' the forest shade,
Shall thy tales of love be told,
And thy vows of truth be made,

When the dew, &c.