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Ah! na, na, na, ye needna mourn,
My een are dim and drowsy worn;
Ye bonny birds, ye needna sing,
For Luman never can return.
My Luman's love, in broken sighs,
At dawn of day by Doon ye'se hear,
And mid-day, by the willow green,
For him I'll shed a silent tear,
Sweet birds, I ken ye'll pity me,
And join me wi' a plaintive sang,
While echo wakes, and joins the mane
I mak for him I loe'd sae lang.

THE TOOTH-ACHE.
(Hudson.)

Air-" There's na luck about the House."

THE other night I went to bed,

And thought some sleep to take;

But scarcely had laid down my head,
When forced to keep awake.

That devil, called the tooth-ache, comes
Without an invitation,

And got tight hold of my stumps and gums,
And swore he'd keep his station.

Of all the pains we're subject to
From our birth till we're turn'd to dust,
I think you all will own it true,
The tooth ache is the worst.
As soon as he came to me he said,
"Old friend, you fee! I've come;"
Myself I lifted
up in bed,

For the pain had struck me dumb.
I turned myself from left to right,

And then turned back again;
Sleep from my eye-lids took his flight,
And I call'd him back in vain.

Of all the pains, &c.

We sometimes show light to old Nick,
So, says I," Mr. Tooth-ache, pray

Be so kind as to leave me quick,
And take yourself away.

You've stuck tight to me through my life,

In

your pains I am no dunce; Besides, you know, I've got a wife, And one plague's enough at once.' Of all the pains, &c.

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I took my wife's flannel petticoat
And wrapp'd it round my head,
Pinn'd it underneath my throat,
(Flannel's warm 'tis said).

I then quite under the clothes did creep,
But Sleep ne'er came in view,
For Mr. Tooth-ache swore that Sleep
Should have the tooth-ache too.

Of all the pains, &c.

I stuck to the petticoat every night,
And had many a tedious bout;

At last, to my comfort, joy, and delight,
I fairly drove him out.

To drive away the tooth-ache's sting

The petticoat is clever,

And in its praise I loudly sing,

The petticoat for ever!

Of all the pains, &c.

MY COTTAGE IN THE GROVE.
Now wanton gales perfume the glade,
Beneath the woodbine's fragrant shade
Each shepherd tells his love;
From all that's fresh, from all that's fair,
I've cull'd each sweet to deck with care
My cottage in the grove.

Ah! come, Eliza, lovely maid,
Come, share with me the rural shade;
Ah! come, and be my love.
Here harmony delights to dwell,
Content is found within the cell
Of my cottage in the grove.
Here, roses red and roses white,
Your rival sweets, come, here unite,
These rural joys to prove;

Here music charms with magic sound
While love and pleasure reign around,
Of my cottage in the
grove.

THE FLITCH OF BACON.
SINCE Dick and Nell were man and wife,
They loved each other dearly,
Their days had all been free from strife,
And time had glided cheerly;
They thought of all the wedded throng,
Their plea must first be taken,
So cheek by jowl they jogged along,
To claim the flitch of bacon.

Now, on the road, says Dick to Nell,
If things are managed fairly,
In future we'll do passing well,

Ods bobs! we'll guttle rarely;
We ne'er have quarrelled day or night,
So, faith, I'm much mistaken,
If e'er a pair have half the right
To claim the flitch of bacon.

My dear, says Nell, to sell the flitch,
Do let me now persuade ye;
"Twill help to make you mainly rich,
And I so fine a lady.

So say no more, but let the prize
To market straight be taken,

For sure 'twill prove us monstrous wise
To sell the flitch of bacon.

Now each persisting, tit for tat,

On their respective cases,
They fought at last like dog and cat,
And scratched each other's faces.
Thus those who strive to gut their fish,
Before its sately taken,

Like Dick and Nell, oft spoil their dish,
Who lost the flitch of bacon.

.........

FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND WINE. (From Anacreon.)

IF gold could lengthen life, I swear,
It then should be my only care
To get a heap, that I might say
When Death comes to demand his prey,
Thou slave take this and go thy way.
But since riches cannot save
Mortals from the gloomy grave,
Give me freely, while I live,
Generous wine in plenty give,
Soothing joys my life to cheer,
Beauty kind, and friends sincere ;
Happy, happy, when I find
Friends sincere and beauty kind,
Let me, while I live, entwine

The joys of friendship, love, and wine.

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BILLY TAYLOR was a gay young fellow,
Full of mirth and full of glee,
And his heart he did diskiver
To a lady fair and free.

Four-and-twenty stout young fellows,
Clad they were in blue array,
Came and press'd poor Billy Taylor,
And forthwith sent him to sea.

Soon his true love follow'd a'ter,

Under the name of Richard Carr,

And her lily white hands she daub'd all over
With the nasty pitch and tar.

When they came to the first engagement,
Bold she fit amongst the rest,
Until a cannon-ball did cut her jacket open,
And diskiver'd her lily white breast.
When the captain com'd for to hear on't,

Says he, Vat vind has blown you here?' Says she, I come for to seek for my true love, Whom you press'd, and I love so dear."

If you come for to seek for your true love,
Tell unto me his name, I pray.'

• His name, kind sir, is Billy Taylor,
Whom you press'd and sent to sea.'

• If his name is Billy Taylor,

He's both cruel and severe :
For rise up early in the morning,
And you'll see him with a lady fair.'
With that she ros'd up in the morning,
Early as by break of day;
And she met her Billy Taylor,
Walking with a lady gay.

Forthwith she call'd for sword and pistol,
Which did come at her command,

And she shot her Billy Taylor,
With his fair one in his hand.

When the captain com'd for to hear on't.

He werry much applauded her for what she done,

And quickly he made her first lieutenant
Of the gallant-THUNDER-BOMB.

WILLIAM AND SUSAN.
(M. G. Lewis.)

WHEN forced to quit his native land,
Young William bade farewell,
As Susan fondly wrung his hand,
Her tears in torrents fell;

And soft she sighed, her anxious heart
With many a fear beset,

Oh! would we were not now to part,

Or that we ne'er had met.

Dame fortune smiled on William's pains,
And bless'd his growing store,
Now gone three years, his honest gains
To Susan's feet he bore,

Nor think, he said, that William's heart
Can e'er its vows forget;

Dismiss your fears no more we'll part,

Since we once more have met.
Ah! ere the honeymoon was flown,
They cursed the marriage life,
A very husband Will was grown,
And Sue a very wife.

She said that he was false at heart,
He called her light coquette,

And both exclaimed, next week we'll part.
I wish we ne'er had met.

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They both work together beneath the

green shade,
Both woodmen, my father and Joe;
I've listened whole hours to the echo that made
So much of a laugh or hallo!

From my basket at noon they expect their supply,
And with joy from my threshold I spring;
For the woodlands I love, and the oaks waving
high,

And echo that sings as I sing.

Though deep shades delight me, yet love is my food,

As I call the dear name of my Joe;
His musical shout is the pride of the wood,
And my heart leaps to hear the hallo!
Simple flowers of the grove, little birds live at ease,
I wish not to wander from you;

I'll still dwell beneath the deep roar of your trees,
For I know that my Joe will be true:
''he trill of the robin, the coo of the dove,
Are charms that I'll never forego;

But, resting through life on the bosom of love,
Will remember the woodland hallo!

LET THE SPIRIT MOVE THEE.
(Dibdin.)

THOU man of firmness, turn this way,
Nor time by absence measure,
The sportive dance and sprightly lay
Shall wake thee into pleasure.
Spite of thy formal outward man,
Thou'rt gay as we shall prove thee!
Then cheer thee, laugh away
the span,

And let the spirit move thee.
None are more just, more true, more fair,
More upright in their dealings,
Than men of thy profession are,
But are they without feelings?
E'en now I know thy honest heart
Full sorely doth reprove thee;
Be gay, then, in our joy take part,
And let the spirit move thee.

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THE board is dressed, come deal away;
The trump's a club-come, who's to play?
Your eldest hand, Miss Griskin, stay;

I'll play, sir, in a minute:

The three of hearts, and four, and five,
And that's a stop, as I'm alive.
And now the nine, and then the ten;
And that I vow's a stop again;

I certainly shall win it :

The king of trumps,-let's see, what's there? I take up four;

And now the knave,-well, I declare,

That's just ten more;

I'll win the church or lose the steeple.

SPOKEN.] Well now, did you ever see any thing like this? Ten upon the knave. Lord, Miss did you ever know a knave that was not rich? Oh, well, if that's the case,

I'll play the deuce, and that's a stop,
The four, and five, and six, that's pop;
I'm out, and so pay the people.

Now let me try if I can win;
The trump's a heart,-you're to begin;
The four and five,-I can't come in;
"Tis really now provoking:

I not a single thing can play;

I shall have for all my hand to pay :

Never was any thing so hard,
I have not even a leading card;

Nay, 'tis no time for joking:
Well, I should like to change my place;
I've not played one;

Eight cards, and every card an ace,
Of ill-luck what a run,

I soon shall be a bankrupt I know.

SPOKEN.] Well, then, I have not a single card in my hand. Lord, madam! you have as many cards as any body else. How can you joke so? Did you ever see such luck in your life? Well, my love, bad luck at cards, good luck in a husband. Oh! now you talk of a husband, who did you say, madam, was the happiest couple in the nation?-

The king and queen, and that's a stop, The ace and deuce, and tray, and pop; I'm out, so hand the rhino.

Come don't despair, but try again;

The trump's a spade,-the nine and ten;
You'll come in soon,-the Lord knows when :
"Tis now my turn, the two and three;
Well, that's a charming thing for me:
The four, five, six, and seven, and eight;
You'll be out quickly at this rate.

Oh, she deals, sir, with the old one:
The game's, in spite of all I try,
So turned about,

That I can see, with half an eye,
That to be out

I never shall be able.

SPOKEN.] Well, I had matrimony last time; I shall have intrigue next, I suppose. The natural consequence, ma'am; I beg your pardon, but what unfortunate old gentleman was you talking about? ̈

The pope, ma'am, and that's a stop; And now the two, and three, and pop, I'm out, and clear the table.

FORGET ME NOT.

Air-" Ne m'oubliez pas."-(Miss Bryant.) LONG have I loved,

And loved thee, too, sincere;

Time has but proved

That thou art doubly dear.
Then, where'er you rove,
Think on that spot
Where I dwell with love,
And forget me not.
When in thy breast

Soft pleasure spreads her power,
By friends caress'd,

In mirth's gay fleeting hour.
When one more fair

Superior arts hath got,
Let mem'ry be dear,
And forget me not.
And when Death's cold dart
Shall fell me to the grave,
To leave thee, my heart

Its latest throb must grieve
But if above

Spirits power have got,
Still will I love,

So, forget me not.

THE JOLLY, JOLLY OWL.

A GLEE.

Of all the birds on bush or tree,
Commend me to the owl,
Since he may best ensample be
To those the cup that trowl;-

For when the sun hath left the west,

He chooses the tree that he loves the best,

And he whoops out his song, and he laughs at his jest:

Then, though hours be late, and weather foul,
We'll drink to the health of the jolly, jolly owl.
The lark is but a bumpkin fowl,

He sleeps in his nest till morn;
But my blessing upon the jolly owl,
That all night blows his horn:

Then up with your cup, till you stagger in speech; And match me this catch, though you swagger and screech;

And drink till you wink, my merry men each,
For though hours be late, &c.

I'VE COURTED THE WENCHES. Air-" Nothing in Life can sadden us."—(Bryant.) I'VE courted the wenches so witty and pretty, Both Agatha, Abigail, Agnes, and all, For each I'd a posey, for each I'd a ditty,

I'm dashed, but I've kissed both the little and small.

There was Amy, and Annis, and Anna, and Betty,

And Kitty so plump, but she had but one eye, With Barbara, Bertha, and Bridget, and Letty, But Letty, the hussey, was devilish sly.

Oh, they are sweet little creatures to tease

a man,

Still I would wed the whole sex if I could, And if they'll let me, I'll kiss them whene'er I can,

I'm blowed if I won't, yes, I'm dashed but I would.

There was Caroline, Clara, and Constance, a prude she was,

She blush'd when I kissed her, and look'd very shy;

She'd cry, Don't you tease me, and tell me how rude I was,

But this her mock-modesty proved all my eye. Then Damaris, Deborah, Dinah, would chat away; Dido would smile, and she'd with surprise, say, Oh, Lord! I could look on you, Ra'ab, both night and day,

For, in truth, I must own, you've such beautiful eyes.

Oh, they are sweet little creatures, &c. Poor Emma was passionate, Faith had the vapours, Gillian was vulgar, and Hagar was sad; Judith was bandy, and Love she cut capers,

And Lucy I bothered until she was mad. There was Mary, and Martha, and Margery, jealous;

Nanny was tame, and poor Patience was wild; There was Rachel and Stella to wed me were zealous,

But before they got married, they each got

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This lady's tears began then to fall,
And her hands she began to ring.
"And didst thou then thy true love plight,
And was it but to betray?

Ah! tarry awhile, my own dear knight;
In pity don't ride away."

The knight of her tears took no heed,
While scornful laugh'd his eye;
He gave the spur to his prancing steed-
"Good bye, sweetheart, good bye."
And soon he vanish'd from her sight,
While she was heard to say,

"Ah! ladies, beware of a fair young knight, He'll love, and he'll ride away."

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GO, FETCH ME A PINT OF WINR (Burns.)

Go, fetch me a pint of wine,

And fill it in a silver tassie, That I may drink, before I go,

A service to my bonnie lassie. The boat rocks at the pier of Leith, Fu' loud the wind blows fra the ferry; The ship rides by the Berwick-law,

And I maun leave my bonnie Mary. The trumpets sound, the banners fly, The glittering spears are ranked ready, The shouts of war are heard afar,

The battle closes thick and bloody; But its not the roar o' seas or shore Wad make me longer wish to tarry; Nor shouts of war that's heard afar, It's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary.

THERE'S NOTHING GOES WRONG WHEN THE GROG'S MIXED RIGHT. THERE'S nothing goes wrong when the grog's mixed right,

And I never looks dull when the liquor looks bright, Though my head it grows heavy, my heels they go light;

And I likes my humour,

I likes my humour,

I likes my humour well, boys.

Tol de rol liddle,

Tol de rol liddle,

Tol de rol liddle le ri do,

My messmates they like a much soberer plan,
And they bids me stand steady, if I am a man;
But I tells 'em they bids me do more than I can;
And they likes my humour, &c.

Down in the cellar I makes my bed,
And on the barrel I lays my head,
The world turns round, and old Davy is dead;
And I likes my humour, &c.

MATRIMONY'S LIKE A CONCERT OF

MUSIC.

I NEVER shall forget the days in which I was a rover;

But soon there was an end to ease, for I became a lover;

The devil take me, I must turn a lover!

The tender passion I abuse, for from it I'm a convert,

I beg assistance from my muse to prove it like a concert;

A concert, a concert, I'll prove it like a concert.
For when my pretty maid I saw, I grew sick,
And continued (till I had a second view) sick;
Then I tried, by ev'ry means, to make her, too, sick,
And though soon I found that she'd not make a
few sick,

She and her love were like a concert of music;
Love is very like a concert of music.

SPOKEN, and accompanied by different instru-
ments.] Yes, love is very like a concert of music,
Soothing as the horn,
Sweet as the flute,
Lively as the fiddle,

Tickling as the lute.

And when your passion is refin'd,

Oh! it's like all these instruments combin'd.

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WITH an honest old friend and a merry old song,
And a flask of old Port, let me sit the night long
And laugh at the malice of those who repine
That they must swig porter whilst I drink wine.

I envy no mortal though ever so great,
Nor scorn I a wretch for his lowly estate;
But what I abhor and esteem as a curse,
Is poorness of spirit, not poorness of purse.
Then dare to be generous, dauntless, and gay,
Let's merrily pass life's remainder away;
Upheld by our friends, we our foes may despise,
For the more we are envied, the higher we rise.

ADIEU, MY NATIVE LAND, ADIEU! ADIEU, my native land, adieu!

The vessel spreads her swelling sails, Perhaps I never more may view

Your fertile fields, your flowery dales; Delusive hope can charm no more,

Far from the faithless maid I roam, Unfriended seek some foreign shore, Unpitied leave my peaceful home!

Adieu, my native land, &c. Farewell, dear village, oh! farewell, Soft on the gale thy murmur dies, I hear thy solemn evening bell, Thy spires yet glad my aching eyes; Though frequent falls the dazzling tear, I scorn to shrink at fate's decree, And think not, cruel maid, that e'er I'll breathe another sigh for thee.

Adieu, my native land, &e

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 wind!

(Nor night, nor storms, nor death, I fear),

Be friendly, bear me hence to find

That peace which fate denies me here.

Adieu, my native land, &c.

THE GOOD OLD DAYS OF ADAM AND EVE.

I SING, I sing of good times older,

When men than women were the bolder;

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