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And—'twas strange when around one such vices

appeir, She could weep with her friend, and her sorrows

revere! But, ah! those proud blasts that blind fortune has

sent
On the head of her father, with age lowly bent,
Have forc'd her,all graceful, all beauteous, to yield
To glean the scarce ear left in Florido's field.

Itesolv'd to possess her, he chas'd all her fears;
Her tale she related, all meekness, in tears;
The wretch yet was geu'rous, he proffer'd her

gold —
To the want of her parents her virtue she sold;
He press'd to his bosom the weight of her charms,
And she sunk, all regardless, in Florido's arms.
The frenzy is over—her honour is gone!
And who can but weep, since poor Mary's undone?

O GODDESS! descend on our plains,
And enlighten our rustical throng!
To thy altar I offer my strains,

And the graces of Nisida's song.
Bring those charms that give birtli to desire, .

Nor be thy young Cupids away;
Around these fair scenes wc admire
Let thy Graces all negligent stray.

To twine the rude wreath while we rove,

Desirous to place on thy shrine, O let thy sweet power improve

Our manners, their roughness refine!

Tho' Tho' a rustic I live in the fields,

And attend to my pipe and my sheep

Yet a softness my passion reveals,

That has taught me to sigh and to weep.

THO' cloudy skies and storms appear,
The sailor's heart is blithe and gay;
No pain he feels, no danger fears,
But merry sings this roundelay:—
When safe on shore,
All cares are o'er;
Where beauty's smile
Rewards his toil,
( . How blest the British Sailor!

From love nlone my cares arose:

When late I went more wealth to seek,
Like dewdrops on the damask rose,

The tears look'd bright on Nelly's cheek.
Now safe on shore,
Her cares are o'er;
Her cheerful smile
Rewards my toil;
How blest her constant Sailor!
The Sailor's duty he performs,

Rewarded by the fair one's love;
Her smiles are sunshine after storms,
That clouds of anxious doubts remove.
When safe on shore,
All cares are o'er;
When beauty's smile
Rewards his toil,
How blest the British Sailor!

TO

TO lecture I come, and your pardon T crave,
For truly no learning my subject imparts;
So spare me, kind critics, all-potent and grave,
For mine is a poor simple lecture on hearts.
First, then, Britain's glory, the heart of a Tar;
Is there aught of more courage, or precious in
worth?
Ah no! whether glowing in peace Or in war,

Tis alike ever true to the place of its birth; Then health to a Sailor !—and this be the strain— The Tars of Old England again and again!

The heart of a Lover, when tender and true,

Is aheart to be priz'd, as each woman must own; While the heart of a Miser, to give him his due,

Is a heart—selfish mortal!—as hard as a stone. Then theheartofa Virgin—and such,too, there be,

That love with a passion devoid of all art— Shall surely be rated and set down by me[:

Herbosom'sall sweetness, all softness her heart: Then health, blooming health !—and let this be

the strain, To Love, and true.Lovers, again and again!

The heart of a Lawyer—and, O what a thing!

Tis a compound of something that's hard to define; When you think it all honey, you find it alt sting,

And what really good for I cannot assign. Now, then, for a heart, and a gallant one, too;

Tis a Soldier's—and where is a braver in fight? For England it beats ever loyal and true,

And proves that her good is its dearest dejight: Then health toa'oldier !,—and this be the strain— Our Soldiers and Sailors again and neain!

IWEEL can remember—how can I forget i t ?—•
Nanny's blithe wedding, when I held the glove;
How my feet they dane'd quick, but my heart it

dane'd quicker,
For Willy was there, and O! he was my love.

O my Willy! my winsome Willy!
My heart how it beats when I look upon thee!

Now Willy was bonny, his hair was a' gowden;
Bright, bright were his een, when he turn'd
them on me;
Wi' the rose on his cheek, like the blush o' the
morning,
Saying, Jeuny,now love me, asl can love thee!
O my Willy, &c.

I lov'd him already, I ken'd na to jeer him,

For Willy was gude, and my heart was in tune;
I sigh'd, and he look'd: on his knees, fell poor
Willy;
The church made us ane, and our wooing was
done.

O my Willy, &c.

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10 the gallant arm'd train,
Who are crossing the main
In the cause of their Country and King;
To the Chief in Command
Of the all-glorious band,
The warmest of wishes we sine.,

Ev'rj

/

Ev'ry Briton will join hand and heart in the strainEv'ry heart will support the petition,

That Heaven may bless, with brilliant success, Brave York, and the grand Expedition.

Neighbour France, you oft swore,

When you threaten'd our shore,
What mighty great feats you wou'd do;

But so long you delay

The kind visit to pay,
We've resolved to wait upon you.

Ev'ry Briton, &c.

Gaul's fraternal embrace,

Though it fail'd to take place,
So highly we prize as her suit;

That we send to her coast

A fine gallant host,
To give her a British salute.

Ev'ry Briton, &c.

When arriv'd on her shore,

Let her welcome us o'er,
With 'Caira' on fife and with drum;

In return for her song,

We will teach her, 'ere long,
The choros of 'Britons strike home.'
Ev'ry Briton, &c.

Since an army of France, nam'd

Of England so fam'd,
Tis pity that she should not have one;

So, for that compliment,

We this ariny have sent,
Convinc'd she would find it a brave one.
Ev'ry Briton, &c.

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