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With Harry I flaunted while he coming by,
Near the cottage that stands in the grove,

And soon I remark'd the dull sorrowful eye
Of Jemmy, the lad that I love.

MAPPY Britons, great and free,
Defend the source of liberty!
Ye great and good, with pious hand,
Support your Kins and save this land:
Where splendid commerce rears her head,
And lib'ral arts their radiance spread,
While wealth flows in with evVy tide,
Let peace and harmony reside.

CHORUS.

I*t all with heart and hands conspire,
Sound the trumpet, strike the lyre,
Trinmphant let us loudly sing,
Our Constitution and our King.

Peace and pleasure, joy and love,
Through the vale with freedom rove,
With smiling Ceres hand in hand,
Diffusing blessings o'er the land.
Then what can'Britons wish for more,
Or what have Britons to deplore,
Whilst Truth and Mercy, from the throne,
Bids him call those joys his own?

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Warm in the great and glorious causa,
Of our religion and our laws,
Ye great and good, with pious hand,
Support your King and save the land:
Let Faith exalted lift her head,
By smiling Truth and Reason led j
Faction disarm'd shall hurt no more,
And discord quit our happy shore.

(f'^ REAT news, great news, I'm hither sent ^3T 'Mong mortals to declare What pass'd in Hymen's parliament,

Where Cupid took the chair;
They made the wisest best decree

You've known in all your lives,
Old maids shall blest with husbands be,

And bachelors have wives:
To bachelors O what rare news:

And all your tabby host,
Who may the tidings glad peruse,

In Hymen's Evening Post,
Great news, great news

Li Hymen's Evening Post,
Great news, great news.

By every bachelor for life,

A duty must be paid; Refusing now to take a wife,

An antiquated maid:

vS Poor Poor soul, how great must be her joy, • Ah ! mock me not, bold bird/ she said,

Who such a lot escapes;
No more with pug and puss to toy,

And free from leading apes!
What wonderful surprising news,

For all your tabby host.
Who niay the tidings glad peruse,

In Hymen's Evening Post.

A bachelor moreover is

A poor unhappy elf,
Who, void of all domestic bliss,

Lays snoring by himself:
He need not now, to cheer his mind,

In searcli of gossip roam,
For, sure as fate, he'll always find

Enough of that at home -
For bachelors what pleasing news,

And all your tabby host,
Who may the tidings glad peruse,

In Hymen's Evening Post.

'TTTWAS on a bank of daisies sweet

-1L A lovely maiden sigh'd, The little lambs play'd at her feet,

While she in sorrow cry'd, 'Where is my love, where can he stray?'

When thus a blackbird sung, Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, he will not stay—

The air with music run".

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'And why pray, tarry here? 'Dost thou bemoan some youngling fled,

'Or hast thou lost thy dear?
'Dost thou lament his absence ?—say;'

Again the blackbird sung,
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, he will not stay—

The air with music rung.

'Sing on,' she cry'd,' thou charming bird,

'Those duleet notes repeat; 'No music e'er like thine was heard,

'So truly sweet, sweet, sweet: >

'Oh ! that my love was here to-day!'

Once more the blackbird sung, Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, he comes this way—

The air with music rung.

T HAVE a silent sorrow here,
-UL A grief Fll ne'er impart;
It breathes no sigh, it sheds no tear,

But it consumes my heart.
This cherish'd woe, this lov'd despair,

My lot for ever be.
So, my soul's lord, the pangs I bear

But never, never, known by thee.

And when pale characters of death

Shall mark this altar'd cheek;
When my poor wasted trembling breath

My life's last hope would speak,

I shall

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COME, Britons, rally round me, you
Who love your country's glory;
Whilst I the grateful theme renevf

Of England's fame in story.
The praise of Duncan, Jervis, Howe,
The muse with rapture dwells on;
To swell her list of heroes now,
She adds the gallant JTelson.

What tho' the Frenchmen, when appear

Britannia's pendants flying,
Close to the she lt'ring coast draw near,

Eor each advantage trying;
Our tars proud bearing on the foe',

With courage firm and steady,
Prepare to strike the dreadful blow,

And for the fight are ready. .

Whilst now the Arabs, rang'd around,

The engagement view with wonder; The many mouths of Nile resound

With Briton's dreadful thunder!
To say that British tars prevaii'd,

Were surely idle prattle;
For when, b.y Gallic force assail'd,

Did Britons yield the battle?

Great

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