RED IS THE BILLOW SPRAY.

Native Hindostanee Melody, arranged by C. Horn to the Poetry of W. Reader.

The moon breaks forth from her clouds awhile,
But I see not my musk-breathing maiden's isle.
Rose! when the dreary sea
Holds me no more from thee,
Smile, and the bud of my woe shall fade!

Translated from the German of Uhland, and adapted to an Air by H. Proch.

Vivace.

FISHER'S SONG.

Translated from the German, and adapted to an Air by Von Rhyn.

Up and down, all day long, Life glides by us, like our song. In our

lit-tle fisher

boat, on the rest-less sea we float: Up and down, all day long, Life glides by us, like our song.

Far from care, far from pain,

Far from thoughts of greedy gain,
Calmly, cheerfully, we ride

Over life's tempestuous tide;
Far from care, far from pain,

Far from thoughts of greedy gain.

WHAT SHALL WE HAVE FOR DINNER, MRS. BOND?

Allegretto.

From The Mayor of Garrett.'

'What shall we have for

din-ner, Mis-tress Bond?' 'There's beef in the lar-der and

kill'd. Dill dill dill dill dill dill dill dill dill'd, Come here and be kill'd. 'Send us the beef first, good Mrs. Bond; But they will not come to be kill'd, Mrs. Bond.' And get us some ducks dress'd out of the pond.' Dill dill, &c. Dill dill, &c. Mrs. Bond then flies to the pond in a rage, With plenty of onions. and plenty of sage. Dill dill, &c. She cried, 'Little wagtails, come here and be kill'd, For you must be stuff'd, and my customers fill'd.' Dill dill, &c.

John Ostler, go and kill a duck or two;' 'Ma'am,' says John Ostler, 'I'll try what I can do.' Dill dill, &c.

I've been to the ducks that are in the pond,

THE NIGHT-WATCH.-A SONG OF THE SENTINEL. Poetry by Alfred Creighton.-Arranged expressly for this Work, to a celebrated Air by Meyerbeer. Moderato.

bright-ness bear-eth but one pain, And that, they flew

The night-watch! the night-watch!

I love, I love it well,

When the white moon, in the midnight Heaven,
Falls on the deep blue swell:

And our bow

Is dipp'd as

too fast.

a cloud of milk-white foam
Nash along-

As the poet's wid soul explores
The fairy realms of song.

Allegretto.

THE LITTLE HAY-MAKER.

Composed by Reeve.

'Twas in June, ro- sy June, that I saun-ter'd one morning, All alone through the fields, just as

Pho-bus was dawn-ing, When for-tune so fix'd it, for which the deuce take her, I must
ad lib.
a tempo

fall deep in love with a pretty hay-mak-er-Yes in love, deep in love, deep in

love with a pretty hay-mak - er,
She was fair and well form'd; nay, all lovely, I own it,
And the grass here and there into hillocks had
thrown it;
[sake her;

Her words were-'Stand by, sir.'-I strove to for-
But, no, I was caught by this pretty haymaker,-
Yes, in love, deep in love, with a little haymaker.
What to do I can't tell, for a case more perplexing
Was sure never known,-no, nor truly more vexing;
Pray, young men, have a care of the fields and each
raker,

Deep in love with a little hay-mak - er.
Lest you fall deep in love with some pretty hay-
maker,-
[maker.
Yes, I'm trapp'd, fairly trapp'd, by a little hay-
'Twas her figure, her mien, and two pretty black
eyes, sir,
[surprise, sir;
With a blush the most sweet, took my heart by
'Twas something bewitching, for which the deuce
take her,

Made me fall deep in love with this little haymaker,-
Yes, in love, deep in love, with a little haymaker.

friend; My cares in a whiff of to-bac-co I smoth-er, For life, I know, short-ly must

end. While Ce-res most kind-ly re-fills my brown jug with good ale, I will make my - self

mellow; In my old wick - er chair I will seat my-self snug, Like a jol-ly and true

happy

fel-low; like a jol-ly, like a

I ne'er trouble my head with the cares of the nation,
My own being all I need mind;
For the cares of this life are all grief and vexation,-
To death we must all be consigned.

jolly, like a jol-ly and true hap-py fel-low.

Then I'll laugh, drink, and smoke, and leave nothing
But drop, like a pear that is mellow;
[to pay,
And, when cold in my coffin, I'll leave them to say,
'He's gone! what a hearty old fellow !'