The Humming bird; or, New American songster; with modern toasts and sentiments.

2009-04

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[...]E Humming Bird OR, NEW AMERICAN SONGSTER: WITH MODERN TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS.

Boston:PRINTED AND SOLD BY SPOTSWOOD AND ETHERIDGE.1798.

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The Humming Bird.

CHARMING SUE.

WHEN duty call'd I sail'd away,
Still to Liberty and Country true;
And nothing could my heart dismay,
But parting from my charming Sue:
With grief her tender heart was press'd.
And scarcely could I bid adieu,
Her sorrows fill'd my constant heart,
For dear I love my charming Sue.

I kiss'd away the falling tear,
And vow'd I ever would be true;
Then bid her hope and banish fear,
To pacify my charming Sue:
She sigh'd and wept, and sigh'd again,
But I was forc'd to bid adieu;
Yet, while I sail'd upon the main,
I thought upon my charming Sue.

The whistling winds began to blow,
And dreadful rocks appear'd in view;
Now up aloft, now down below,
Yet still I thought on charming Sue:
For three long years upon the main,
Each toil and danger I went through,
At length, quite tight, return'd again,
I came, and found my charming Sue.

Constant my lovely girl I found,
To me she faithful was and true;
And having sail'd the world around,
I'm safe in p [...]rt with charming Sue:
[Page 4]Well rigg'd to church we tript away,
Surrounded by the jolly  [...]rew;
And I am bound to bless the day,
I saw my lovely charming Sue.

MARY'S TRUE.

YE ling'ring winds that feebly blow,
Why thus impede my way?
Why moves the lazy ship so slow,
When Mary mourns my stay?
For when she bade me last adieu,
She dropt a tear, and said—be true.

When, as the midnight watch I keep,
I view the sparkling sea?
While round my shipmates careless sleep,
I fondly think on thee;
Remembrance paints the last adieu,
When Mary wept, and cried—be true.

Tho' I be distant as the pole,
Tho' furious tempests foam,
Tho' billows mount, tho' thunders roll,
No distance, time, or storm,
The scene can banish from my view,
When Mary wept, and cried — be true.

Oft up the shrouds my steps are borne,
I take my airy stand;
And oft my longing eyes I turn,
And look in vain for land;
Dejected I rejoin the crew,
Yet fondly hope my Mary's true.

[Page 5]
Come then, ye briskly pleasing gales,
For once auspicious prove:
Come swell the bosom of my sails,
And wast me to my love:
Mo [...]'d in her arms to toils adieu,
If still I find my Mary true.

THE SEAMAN'S HOME.

O YOU, whose lives on land are pass'd,
And keep from dang'rous seas aloof;
Who, careless listen to the blast,
Or beating rains upon the roof:
You little heed how seamen  [...]are,
Condemn'd the angry storm to bear.

Sometimes, while breakers vex the tide,
He takes his station on the deck;
And now, lash'd o'er the vessel's side,
He clears away the cumb'ring wreck:
Yet while the billows o'er him foam,
The ocean only is his  [...]ome,

Still fresher blows the midnight gale,
'All hands reef topsails,' are the cries:
And while the clouds the heavens veil,
Aloft to reef the  [...]ail  [...] flies:
In storms so rending d [...]om'd to roam,
The ocean is the seaman's home.

HAVE we cross'd the boist'rous main,
Trod each dreary sandy plain?
[Page 6]Have we in the desert slept,
Daily toil'd and nightly wept?
Left our peaceful native lands?
But to die by savage hands?

FOR YOU, MY LOVELY GIRL.

COME, pretty Poll, thy tears refrain,
And, dearest maid, believe
It wrung my heart with cruel pain,
To see my charmer grieve:
Then dry those eyes and ere I go
Each anxious fear dispel;
And bold I'll meet my country's foes,
For you, my lovely girl.

A sailor scorns the name of slave,
And when he's call'd to war,
Will teach the foe what 'tis to brave
A dauntless, jovial  [...]ar:
Then bid, my life, those sighs adieu,
Those lucid tears farewel:
I fly to conquer, love, for you,
For you, my lovely girl.

The signal's fir'd— I'm call'd away,
'Tis will'd that we must part;
But tho' forbid with thee to stay,
I bear thee in my heart:
Then let not Polly be concern'd
For Hymen soon shall tell,
Thy sailor's safe from war return'
For you, my lovely girl.

[Page 7]
Now Henry has left me to plough the  [...] sea,
May Providence shield him from harm,
What argues repining or grieving, said he,
Though fear did my bosom alarm,
With what rapture he press'd me and bid me farewel,
Crying, steady, my girl, this won't do,
But my heart how it beat, and my bosom would swell,
When he whisper'd the parting adieu.

Blow cheerly each gale while my Henry's at sea,
Ye zephyrs prove gentle and kind,
That he may with safety return unto me,
His Image is still in my mind:
Yet would I take courage and cease to regret,
As a sailor I'm sure he'll be true,
But in spite of all talking I cannot forget
His last his dear parting adieu.

No longer I'll murmur nor think hard his lot
But for him my love I'll reserve:
And the cause that he sights in shall not be forgot,
For th' rights of his country he'll preserve;
Dear slattering hope forbids me to mourn
While in fancy my Henry I view,
Which tells the with safety my love will re­turn,
And no more bid a parting adieu.

WHEN bending o'er the lofty yard,
The jolly seaman reefs the sa [...],
[Page 8]Though whirlwinds roar, he grapples hard
The swinging beam, nor dreads the gale:
When hidden rocks and sable clouds
Impede the shatter'd vessel's way,
The boatswain clinging to the shrouds,
Undaunted pipes his midnight say.

And 'ere the wreck begins to sink,
'Ere through her sides the billows pour,
The sailor bravely stops to drink,
Then grasps the mast and gains the shore:
Thus, Har [...]iet, were I moor'd with you,
No threatning dangers would I see;
But laugh at  [...]error's pale fac'd crew,
And baffle life's tempestuous sea.

Or haply should soft zephyrs blow,
We'd leave the po [...] and share the gale;
Whil [...] B [...]cc [...]us call'd all hands below,
And fortune laughing set our sail:
From quicksand of domestic care,
Where jealousy's loud breakers roar,
From sorrows coast we'd steer afar,
'Till death should tow our boat ashore.

THE CAN OF FLIP.

To distant shores the breezy wind,
The jolly tar from home conveys;
No anxious thoughts annoy his mind,
Whilst whistling he the sheet belays:

[Page 9]

Tho' storms around him loudly roar,

And from his jacket brine shall drip,

Unmov'd he hears the tempest roar,

And takes his can of gen'rous flip.

No silly cares can him oppress,
If tight his ship and sea-room clear;
Nor on his heart can aught impress,
The distant thought of coward fear.
Tho' storms around, &c.

Yet when he views his native land,
His swelling heart with ardour glows;
And as he leaps upon the strand,
'Tis thus his tongue with rapture flows:
Nor storms nor tempests her assail,
Nor brine shall from my jacket drip,
Here love alone shall blow the gale.
And we drink cans of gen'rous flip.

THE MIDSHIPMAN.

I'M here or there a jolly dog,
At land or sea I'm all agog,
To sight, or kiss, or touch the grog,
For I'm a jovial midshipman,
A smart young midshipman,
A little midshipman,
To sight, or kiss, or  [...]ouch the grog,
Oh, I'm a jovial midshipman.

My honor's free from stain or speek,
The fore-mast men are at my book,
[Page 10]With pride I walk the quarter-deck,
For I'm a smart young midshipman, &c.

I mix the pudding for our mess,
In uniform then neatly dress.
The Captain asks, (no need to press)
Come, dine with me, young midshipman, &c.

How poor is the man, tho' he wealth should possess,
Who the impulse of pity ne'er knew!
But, unfeeling, could hear the sad tale of distress,
And with-hold from misfortune its due.

The elements' rigour much sooner I'd brave,
Which my vessel on foul ground should strand;
Or in Biscay's rough bay meet a watery grave,
Than I'd take such a wretch by the hand.

A STORY OF SORROW.

You ask why I thus droop my head,
Why pensive and sad I deplore?
An joy from poor Anna is fled,
My William, alas! is no more:
These eyes dim and mournful appear,
Which from his all their lustre did borrow;
I must pause o'er my tale—drop a tear,
For, alas! 'tis a story of sorrow.

I stood on the beach, while in view
The bark toss'd, that brought him from far;
The rain beat, the winds fiercely blew,
[Page 11]The elements seem'd all at war:
On a rock (the dire thought bids me weep)
His ship split—no aid could they borrow;
He immerg'd in the watery deep,
Full, alas! is my story of sorrow.

Distracted! but prayers could I give,
As he dash'd the big billows aside,
Hope faintly breath'd forth, 'he'd survive,'
But, fatigu'd, he sunk breathless—and dy'd:
Depriv'd of my love, I complain,
I his bride should have been on the morrow,
But I'll plunge in the unsated main,
And cure a heart bursting with sorrow.

THE CAPTURED CREW.

NIGHT scarce her mantle had withdrew,
And slowly usher'd in the morn,
When bearing down, we 'spied in view,
The savage foe not far astern:
The stoutest trembled—small our crew,
The victims of superior power;
Ye courage bade the drooping few
Wait calmly for the fatal hour.

Bold they approach'd—a council's held,
Our men, with voice united, cry,
'Rather than basely deign to yield,
'They'd meet their fate and boldly die:'
The fight now rag'd—from side to side
The thund'ring cannons dreadful sound;
With purple stain the deck was dy'd,
Which issu'd from each gaping wound.

[Page 12]
Such havoc now stern death has made,
Vain our resistance—nought could shield;
Wounds and fatigue on valour prey'd,
And with reluctance did we yield:
But scarce our batter'd hall we quit,
Scarce from the sturdy wreck retire,
Ere up she blew, 'sham'd to be beat,
Shrouding her form in sheets of fire.

BEN BLOCK.

I WAS press'd, while a rowing so happy—
No matter, 'twas childish to grieve;
So to drown care with grog I got happy,
Yet sigh'd my sweet Kitty to leave:
But what hurt me most were those  [...]innie [...],
On whom I had thought to depend,
For I wish'd to raise Kate a few guineas,
B [...]  [...]ound I had got ne'er a friend.

Whe [...] on board, why I troubled a ship-mate
 [...] note to my swee [...] heart to write;
Wh [...]h in doing he somehow a slip made,
His own  [...]le of love did indite!
So when I at Pa [...] sea landed,
( [...]ie'd p [...]'d  [...]er so to his end)
I le [...] my iriga [...] commanded,
And found I had go [...] ne'er a friend.

When again on the salt seas in motion,
 [...]  [...]ur'd w [...]nds loudly roar;
An [...]  [...]endship I found on the ocean,
As scant as I left it on shore:
[Page 13]We were wreck'd—but my tale little matters,
While messmates to Davy descend,
I escap'd, but was poor, all in ta [...]ters,
And found I had got ne'er a friend.

Yet still to all fear I was stranger,
In battle, (where death tips the gri [...])
Was expos'd to the heat of each danger,
'Till a musket ball splinter'd my sin:
Well, away to the cock-pit I hobbled,
Where so many customers tend,
That the surgeon, to save further trouble,
Lopp'd it off, damme, not like a friend.

But now ev'ry comfort's imparted,
I find, laid in Greenwich s [...]ng dock,
My messmates are true, honest-hearted,
And each wishes well to Ben Block:
The rear of my life glides on cheerly,
In a calm here my moments I'll end;
I have sought for my King late and early.
And, bless him, the King is my friend.

WHEN whistling winds are heard to blow,
In temp [...] o'er the earth,
The seaman's oft' dash'd to and fro,
Yet cheerly takes his birth:
And as he fearless mounts the shrouds,
Awhile the vessel swings,
Tho' skies are man [...]d o'er with clouds,
The g [...]llant sailor sings:
'Tis pretty Poll and honest Jack,
My gi [...] and friend on shore,
[Page 14] Will hail me at returning back,
So let the billows roar.

When bending o'er the rocking yard,
While seas in mountains rise,
He takes a spell however hard,
And danger e'er defies:
The storm once o'er, the gallant tar
Let's fancy freely roam,
And tho' from many a friend afar,
Thus sings of those at home,
'Tis pretty Poll, &c.

On burning coasts, or frozen seas,
Alike in each extreme,
The gallant sailor's e'er at ease,
And floats with fortune's stream:
To love and friendship ever true,
He steers life's course along,
And wheresoever failing to,
Fond hope elates his song.
'Tis pretty Poll, &c.

THE SEA-WORN TAR.

THE sea-worn tar, who in the war,
No danger e'er could move;
True to his gun, all hazards run,
Yet thought upon his love:
But, home again, forgets his pain,
And seeks his faithful lass;
Lock'd in her arms, enjoys her charms,
And fills the sparkling glass.

[Page 15]
The ship safe moor'd, with gold well stor'd,
All dangers now are o'er;
His timber's tight, his rigging light,
He scuds along the shore,
To seek the place where ev'ry grace
Adorns his charming lass;
Then, in her arms, enjoys her charms,
And fills the sparkling glass.

In war renown'd, with honor crown'd,
He laughs and sings away;
Oft' fore and aft, aloft, abaft,
He talks from night to day,
Of red hot balls and batter'd walls,
To entertain his lass;
Lock'd in her arms, enjoys her charms,
And fills the sparkling glass.

THE DAUNTLESS SAILOR.

THE dauntless sailor leaves his home,
Each softer joy and ease,
To distant climes he loves to roam,
Nor dreads the boist'rous seas:
His heart with hope of vict'ry gay,
Scorns from the foe to run;
In battle terror melts away
As snow before the sun.

Though all the nations of the world
Columbia's flag would lower,
Her banners still shall wave unfurl'd,
And dare their haughty power:
[Page 16]But see, Bellona sheathes her sword,
Hush'd is the angry main;
The cannon's roar no more is heard
Sweet peace resumes her reign.

He hastes unto his native shore,
Where dwells sweet joy and rest:
His lovely Susan's smiles implore,
To crown and make him blest:
Now all the toil and dangers past,
And Susan's love remains,
The honest tar is blest at last,
Her smiles reward his pain.

FAIR KATE OF PORTSMOUTH

FAIR KATE of Portsmouth lov'd a tar,
Ben Su [...], as kind a soul
As ever brav'd the hottest war,
Or slung the flowing bowl,
Yet, o [...]t' h [...]'d  [...]eave a sigh, since fate
Had borne him far from lovely Kate:

For Ben in vain had often strove,
(Would parents but agree)
To wed fair Kate, his only love,
'Ere that he went to sea:
But, ah! in vain, fond hope was o'er,
He sigh'd, then left his native shore.

One night as the mid-watch he kept,
A loose to love he gave,
For while his ship-mates careless stept,
P [...]g'd in a wat'ry grave—
[Page 17]'The conflict's o'er, sweet Kate,' he cried,
Then sunk in peace, alas! and dy'd.

Thus, hope is like the summer gale,
That's transient as the wind,
Which reefs too soon soft pleasure's sail,
'Ere the wish'd port we find:
The tidings to fair Kate was brought,
Whose bosom was with anguish fraught.

'And is my love no more?' she cried,
'Then peace adieu, farewel,
This heart to his was e'er allied,
And still it shall be true—
I feel my spirit wing its flight—'
She spoke, and sunk in endless night.

POOR TOM, OR THE SAILOR'S EPITAPH.

HERE a sheer bulk, lies poor Tom Bowling,
The darling of our crew,
No more he'll hear the tempest howling,
For death has broach'd him too.
His form was of the manliest beauty,
His heart was kind and soft,
Faithful below he did his duty,
And now he's gone aloft.

Tom never from his word departed,
His virtues were so rare,
His friends were many, and true-hearted,
Hi [...] Poll was kind and fair:
[Page 18]And then he [...]d sing so blithe and jolly,
Ah many's the time and oft!
 [...] mirth is turn'd to melancholy,
For Tom is gone aloft.

Yet shall poor Tom find pleasant weather,
When he who all commands,
Shall give, to call life's crew together,
The word to pipe all hands.
Thus death who kings and tars dispatches,
In vain Tom's life has doff'd,
 [...] tho' his body's under hatches,
His soul is gone aloft.

THE LUCKY ESCAPE.

I that once was a ploughman, a sailor am now,
No lark that aloft in the sky,
Even flutter'd his wings to give speed to the plough,
Was  [...]o gay and so careless as I;
But my friend was a carpenter a board a good ship,
And he ask'd me to go just to sea for a trip:
 [...] he talk'd of such things as if sailors were kings,
And so teazing did keep, and so teazing did keep,
That I left my poor plough to go ploughing the deep▪
No longer the horn call'd me up in the morn,
I trusted the Ca [...]do and the inconstant wind,
 [...] made me to go and leave my dear b [...]nd.
[Page 19]I did not much like for to be aboard a ship,
When in danger there is no door to creep out,
I lik'd the jolly tars, I lik'd bumbo and slip,
But I did not like rocking about.

By and by came a hurricane, I did not like that,
Next a battle that many a sailor laid flat,
Ah! cried I, who would roam,
That like me had a home,
When I'd sow and I'd reap,
Ere I left my poor plough, to go ploughing the deep;
Where sweetly the horn
Call'd me up in the morn,
Ere I trusted the Carfindo and the inconstant wind,
That made me for to go and leave my dear be­hind.

At last safe I landed, and in a whole skin,
Nor did I make any long stay,
Ere I found by a friend who I ask'd for my kin,
Father dead, and my wife ran away!
Ah! who but thy self, said I, hast thou to blame?
Wives loosing their husbands oft lose their good name:
Ah! why did I roam
When so happy at home,
I could sow and could reap,
Ere I left my poor plough to go ploughing the deep;
When so sweetly the horn
Call'd me up in the morn.
Curse light upon the Carsindo and inconstant wind,
That made me for to go and leave my dear behind.

[Page 20]

CHARMING NANCY.

'TWAS underneath a May-blown bush,
Where vi [...]lets blow and sweet primroses,
With voice melodious as a thrush,
Young Johnny sung—(collecting posies)
This to the breast must be convey'd
Of her who is my dearest fancy
My tender, blushing, blooming maid,
My smiling, mild, good-natur'd Nancy.

I know that some my youth will jeer,
And call me Willes, Oaf, or Sawney,
But I from constant heart declare,
I none will wed except my Nancy.
I neither envy pomp nor dress,
Nor conquests gain'd o'er hearts so many,
The study of my life's to bless,
To please my dear, my grateful Nancy.

How much unlike my fair to those
Whose wanton charms are free to any,
I'd give the world could I disclose
The fifteenth part the worth of Nancy—
Let bu [...]ks and bloods in bu [...]t champaign
Carouse with Charlo [...]te, Po [...]l, and Fanny,
Their arts and smiles are all in vain,
For I'll have none except my Nancy.

THE CALEDONIAN MAID.

OH! say, have you my Mary seen,
The Cal [...]donian maid,
Or  [...]eard the shepherds on the green
[Page 21]Say where my Mary's stray'd:
The damsel is of angel mien,
With sad and downcast eyes,
The shepherds call her sorrow's queen,
So pensively she sighs:
So pensively, so pensively,
So pensively she sighs.

But why those sighs so sadly swell,
Or why her tears so flow?
In vain they press the lovely girl,
The innate cause to know;
E'er reason fram'd her tender mind,
The virgin learnt to love:
Compassion taught her to be kind,
Deceit she was above:
She was above, she was above,
Deceit she was above

And had not war's terrific voice
Forbid the nuptial bands,
'Ere now had Sandy been her choice
And Hymen bind our hands:
But since the sword of war is  [...]heath'd,
And peace resumes her charms,
My ev'ry joy is now bequeath'd
Unto my Mary's arms.

LET'S TIE THE KNOT MY SALLY.

I'VE found, my fair, a true love knot,
'Tis loose by  [...]ome disaster,
Come then with me to yonder grot,
[Page 22]And let us tie it faster:
Or shall we to the grove repair,
There is no time to d [...]lly,
The church, the priest, awaits us there,
Let's tie the knot, my Sally.

Methinks the knot was surely laid,
By Cupid's fond direction,
To prove, my sweet, my charming maid,
The cement of affection:
'Tis form'd by some immortal hand,
Come, let us leave the valley,
And join in Hymen's silken band,
Let's tie the knot, my Sally.

No hand can e'er the band untie,
When once we are united:
For every guardian saint is by,
When lovers vows are plighted:
The deed recorded is above,
Then let's not shilly shally,
Oh, let us haste, my charming love,
And tie the knot my Sally.

SWEET LILIES OF THE VALLEY.

O'ER barren hists and flow'ry dales,
O'er seas and distant shores,
With merry songs and jocund tales,
I've pass'd some pleasant hours:
Tho' wandering thus I ne'er could find
A girl like blithsome Sally;
Who picks, and culls, and cries aloud,
Sweet lilies of the valley.

[Page 23]
From whistling o'er the hallow'd  [...]f,
From nestling of each tree,
I chose a soldier's life to wed,
So social, gay and free:
Yet, tho' the lasses love us well,
And often try to rally,
None pleases me like her, who cries,
Sweet lilies of the valley.

I'm now return'd, of late discharg'd,
To use my native toil;
From fighting in my country's cause,
To plough my country's soil:
I care not which, with either pleas'd,
So I possess my Sally,
That little merry nymph, who cries,
Sweet lilies of the valley.

GIVE ME THE GIRL THAT'S KIND AND FREE.

WHILE happy in my fair one's arms,
What rapt'rous joys possessing:
To gaze on woman's blooming charms,
Extatic is the blessing:
A virtuous girl is all my pride,
Possessing wit and beauty;
Blest with her love I ne'er deride,
But pay respect and duty:
Each free-born Lover's with should be,
Give me the girl that's kind and free.

Let sops and fools still court the glass,
A prey to self-opinion;
[Page 24]My joys are center'd in my lass,
I bow to love's dominion:
For Nancy is the girl I love,
My heart's own love's impression,
Each tender moment I improve,
They yielding soft confession:
Each free-born Lover's with should be,
Give me the girl that's kind and free.

LUBIN'S RURAL COT.

RETURNING home, across the plain,
From market, t'other day,
A sudden storm of wind and rain
O'ertook me by the way:
With speed I tript it o'er the ground,
To find some kinder spot.
And from the storm a shelter found,
In Lubin's rural cot.

This swain had long possess'd a flame,
But modestly conceal'd;
Nor 'till those fav'ring moments came,
His passion e'er reveal'd:
Will you consent, sweet maid, cried he,
To share my humble lot;
Return, my love, and mistress be,
Of Lubin's rural cot.

He spoke so fair it pleas'd my mind,
I blushing, answer'd yes;
He swore he would be true and kind,
And seal'd it with a kiss:
Next day the wedding ring was bought,
[Page 25]I all my fears forgot;
And blest the day I shelter sought,
In Lubin's rural cot.

WHITHER MY LOVE.WHITHER, my love, ah! whither art thou gone?
Let not thy absence cloud this happy dawn;
Say, by thy heart, shall falshood e' [...]r be known:
Ah! no, no, no, I judge it by my own▪
The heart he gave with so much care
Which shelter'd in my breast I wear,
Still for its master beats alone,
I'm sure the selfish thing's your own.

PRIMROSES.

WHEN spring returning decks the groves
In glittering array,
And birds elated chaunt their loves
While mounted on the spray:
Then to the fields with eager haste
To cull the flow'rs I hi [...],
And, with my basket to my wrist,
I trudge along and cry,
Two bunches a penny Primrose
Two bunches a penny.

And oft' as thro' the streets I walk,
In hopes to sell my ware,
The powder'd beaus will deign to talk,
[Page 26]And try me to ensnare;
But true to love, my thoughts are plac'd,
And from such offers fly,
So, with my basket to my waist,
I trudge along and cry,
Two bunches a penny Primroses,
Two bundles a penny.

What tho' no plumes adorn my head,
Nor sattins train behind,
I still have charms to please my Ne [...],
And he hits well my mind:
And soon to church with him I'll haste,
The gordian knot to tie,
No more with basket to my waist
Thro' Lanes or Streets I'll cry,
Two bunches a penny Primroses,
Two bunches a penny.

THE MAID OF BOSTON.

WHERE Charles's tide encircling leaves,
The sweets of Boston's fertile shore,
And smoothly glides his murmuring waves,
To meet the white-spray'd ocean's roar:
The roscat hours swift stole away,
While Damon told his tender tale;
But now he's gone I lonely stray,
The hapless maid of Boston Vale.

'Ere from the East the dappled dawn,
Had chas'd the ebon shades away,
He'd bound across the dasied lawn,
[Page 27]His orisons of love to pay:
But honor's call his soul has fir'd,
Nor could the tears of love prevail;
From me he's fled— with grief inspir'd
Now sighs the maid of Boston Vale.

THE ROW.

To be sure I don't love in my heart, now,
What some people call a good dust;
And with life was I sure for to part now,
As some time or other I must,
When I see a lady in danger,
I up to her march with a bow,
And from her ne'er shrink as a stranger,
But instantly kick up a row:

For I pell away, whelt away, whack away,
Lather area, all that I can,
Well plea [...]d I'm to lose my life still
For a woman that blessing to man;
Give me but a sprig of shilaly
And may be I'll not show you how,
Be a puppy's coat ever so mealy,
To dust, when I kick up a row.

One night, as I walk'd down the Strand, I
Saw ladies by russians abus'd,
So, says I, to be sure I can't stand by,
And see the sweet creatures misus'd;
So that which Ma'am Justies should settle,
Had she been awake, you'll allow,
I, being of true Irish mettle,
Compounded, by making a row.
For I pelt away, &c.

[Page 28]
As for fighting I don't say I love it,
For sometimes it proves a bad jobb;
And what pray now more would you on't,
I got a snug gash on my knob:
But where I see ladies ill treating,
My country I'll straight disavow:
If I don't give the thieves such a beating,
And always I'll keep up the row.
For I'll pelt away, &c.

THAT'S YOUR SORT.

I'M a dashing dog, you may see that I am,
For a sheepish flat I can qu [...]er and bam;
And as for your minxies that modesty sham,
They're a damper to spirits and sport:
Give me but my glass and my girl and my gig,
Let me go but my lengths and I'll run such a rig,
With my helter skelter, yoicks,
O d—me but that's your sort.

To kick up a row, or beat up a breeze,
I never sit quamp like a mouse in a cheese;
But I go it and gig it as loud as I please,
For Piano was never my Forte:
And if a fine lady should show any fears,
Why, Madam, says I, you may stop up your ears,
With my helter skelter, yoick
O d—me but that's your sort.

[Page 29]
Then a card I can flip, and can cog a die,
Can spar like a cock, and know how to fight shy,
For without a knock down I can sprawling lie,
As that is the best of the sport:
But I'm not such a fool to stand to be shot,
And be sent with a cursed long pistol to pot,
With my hel [...]er skelter, yoicks,
O d—me but that's your sort.

But when in the boxes I get with the tits,
I badger the parsons and bully the  [...]its,
While their wives and their daughters I leave in the fits,
And away to my kiddies resort;
And when home with them I am taking my tramps,
I knock down the watch and I break all the lamps,
With my helter skelter, yoicks,
O d—me but that's your sort.

And a buck of spirit I'll always be,
If it ends in my crossing the line at sea;
Or suppose that the line should be crossing of me,
Why my spirits must be my support:
And if I'm at last led a dance with a noose,
With my dancing I never shall wear out my shoes,
With my helter skelter, yoicks,
O d—me but that's your sort.

I NEVER WILL BE MARRIED.

WHEN I had scarcely told sixteen,
My flatt'ring tell tale glass,
Told me there seldom could be seen
[Page 30]A blither bonnier lass;
Full twenty lovers round me bow'd,
But high my head I carried,
And with a scornful air I row'd
I never would be married.

Young Harry warmly urg'd his suit,
And talk'd of wealth in stores,
While Jemmy thought to strike me mate,
And told his conquests o'er:
Each youth a diff'rent art essay'd,
And still their arts I patried;
Believe me, Sirs, I laughing said
I never will be married.

Then five revolving summers past,
While I the tyrant play'd;
Ah! then I fear'd 'twould be, at last,
My fate to die a maid:
Of all the lovers in my train,
There was but one that tarried,
thought 'twas time to change my strain,
And we this morn were married.

WHY MOURNS MY FAITHFUL LOVER.

'TWAS in his vessel sailing,
When gentle breezes blew,
Sweet William lay bewailing,
The fate of lovely Sue;
All on his bed extended,
The faithful sailor lay,
His grief was never ended,
He mourn'd her night and day.

[Page 31]
 [...]ust at the midnight hour,
A gentle voice he hears,
And at the cabin door
The black-ey'd maid appears;
All pale she look'd tho' smiling,
And dress'd in spotless white;
Like some bright cloud assailing,
When Cynthia smiles at night.

AIR.Why mourns my faithful lover?
The damsel vision said —
Who hath the seas cross'd over,
To tell thee I was dead?
What tongue the fatal story,
Unto thy ear convey'd?
And why art thou so sorry,
To lose a silly maid?

None brought the hapless message,
The weeping lover said;
None came the tedious passage,
To tell me that thou were dead:
But fancy ever teeming,
The fatal story told,
At midnight I was dreaming,
I saw thee dead and cold.

Then from my sleep I started,
And thus in anguish cry'd,
Why were we ever parted,
Ah! why has Susan dy'd?
Since then my wretched bosom,
[Page 32]No peace or comfort knew;
And now, like a full blossom,
I'll droop and die like you.

ROW, DOW, DOW.

ON Entick's green meadows where innocence reigns,
Where pleasure and plenty for ever preside,
I romp'd with the maidens and pretty young swains,
And Ralph fancy'd soon he should call me his bride;
When I first heard the drum, with the row, dow, dow,
Its music was sweeter than soft serenade:
I scorn'd all the rest for the row, dow, dow,
And sign'd for the Captain with a smart cockade.

The first I e'er saw, he march'd over our green,
His men all behind him by two and by two;
Such a sight in our village had never been seen,
The men all in ranks were drawn out to view;
When I first heard the drum, with a row, dow, dow,
Young Cupid awak'd, such a bustle he made,
My heart beat a ma [...]ch, with a row, dow, dow,
And went o'er to the Captain with a smart cockade.

My face took his fancy—he swore at my feet
All his laurels he'd lay, if I'd give him my hand;
No maid could refuse a lover so sweet,
[Page 33]To the church then I marc'd by the word of command:
 [...]ow I follow the drum, with a row, dow, dow,
Nor e'er have repented the vow that I made;
No music's to me like the row, dow, dow,
No youth like the Captain with a smart cockade.

THE SWEET LITTLE GIRL THAT I LOVE.

 [...]Y friends all declare that my time is mis­spent
While in rural retirement I rove;
 [...]ask no more wealth than dame fortune has sent,
But the sweet little girl that I love,
The sweet little girl that I love.

The rose on her cheek's my delight
She's soft as the down, as the down on the dove,
No lily was ever so white
As the sweet little girl that I love.

Tho' humble my cot, calm content gilds the scene,
For my fair-one delights in my grove;
And a palace I'd quit for a dance on the green
With the sweet little girl that I love.

No ambition I know but to call her my own,
No fame but her praise wish to prove;
My happiness centers in Fanny alone,
She's the sweet little girl that I love.

[Page 34]

MA BELLE COQUETTE.

MA Belle Coquette, ah! why disdain,
To hear my faithful sighs?
With cold neglect why seek to pain
The heart that for thee dies?
Those eyes where all the graces play,
Where all the loves are met,
In pity cease to turn away
From me, Ma Belle Coquette.

Tho' foplings slutter round thee, love,
To share thy envied smiles,
Their empty smiles be far above,
And spurn their specious wiles;
To virtue train'd, ah! let thine heart
Delusive joys forget,
And real raptures deign t'impart
To me, Ma Belle Coquette.

The beauteous form, th' expansive mind,
In thee their influence blend;
And to thy lover's ardour bind
Th' affection of the friend:
My cause may love and friendship plead,
And, fate propitious, let
Thy heart bestow its gen'rous meed
On me, Ma Belle Coquette.

Those pleasure's which from folly flow,
With indignation leave;
And teach thy youthful heart to know,
They please but to deceive:
[Page 35]Then bless, sweet maid, these faithful arms,
And fashion's lures forget,
T' enjoy retirements mental charms
With me Ma Belle Coquette.

THE VEIL.

AH: fashion, wherefore do'st thou still
The female breast with anger fill,
And teach such cruel arts;
'Tis thou that bidst the fair conceal,
Their glowing charms beneath the veil,
To tantalize our hearts:
O banish the bonet, or draw up the veil,
And crown with simplicity Columbia's fair;
No longer their smiles and their dimples con­ceal,
But let us behold them e'n just as they are.

Ah! fashion, 'tis thy ruthless power,
That 'midst the grove and in the bow'r,
Oft damps extatic bliss;
For when the nectar we should sip,
The cobweb flutters on the lip,
And blunts the amorous kiss,
O banish the bonnet, &c.

O, fashion, bid the curtain rise,
That we may feast our longing eyes,
With dimples and with smiles:
Then ev'ry youth shall bless thy sway,
And to thy precepts homage pay,
[Page 36]Dear goddess of our isles:
O, banish the bonnet, &c.

TIPPY BOB.

MY name's Tippy Bob,
With a watch in each fob,
View me round—on each side and the top,
I'm sure I'm the thing,
Nay, I wish I may swing,
If I an't now a nice natty crop!
I'm up to each rig,
Of my hat smoke the gig,
Like candles my locks dangle down:
And look in my r [...]ar,
As an ostrich I'm ba [...]e,
But the knowinest smart of the town:
As I walk through the lobby,
The girls cry out "Bobby!
"Here, Bobby!—my Bididy Bob!"
Now squeking, now bawling,
Then pulling and hawling,
So smirking and pleasing,
So coaxing and and teazing,
I can't get them out of my nob.

Observe well my shape,
And the fall of my cape,
It's the thing! It's the thing! dam'me! an't it?
And this bow round my neck,
Would at least hold a peck,
It may catch some old Dowager! mayn't it?
[Page 37]Then under this collar
I've got a large roller,
'Tis just like a large German sausage;
And squeez'd up so tight,
That, by this good light,
It goes nearly to stop up my passage.
As I walk thro' the lobbey, &c.

My vest a foot long,
Nine capes in a throng,
My breeches—my small cloaths I mean,
From my chest to my calf—
Damn the mob, let them laugh,
I dress not by them to be seen!
The strings at my knees,
Like cheveaux de frieze,
My boots to the small of my leg!
My spurs the nonsuch,
No crop can me touch,
I swear I'm at home to a peg.

LOVELY MARY.

WHEN night, and left upon my guard,
Nor whisp'ring breeze nor leaf is heard,
And stars between close branches peep,
And birds are hush'd in downy sleep:
My soul to softest thoughts resign'd,
And lovely Mary fills my mind;
At ev'ry noise for bluff "Who's there?"
I gently breathe, "is't thou, my fair?
[Page 38]Thy dying soldier haste and see,
Oh, come, sweet Mary, come to me."

As on my post thro' blaze of day,
The wretched, happy, sad, and gay,
In quick succession move along,
I see nor hear the passing throng:
My soul so wrapt in Mary's charms,
I hug my musket in my arms:
So, all of passions, joy and grief,
When comrades bring the glad relief;
I cry thy soldier, haste and see,
Oh come, sweet Mary, come to me.

I LIKE each girl that I come near,
Tho' none I love but Mary;
Oh, she's my darling, only dear,
Bewitching little fairy.
I ask'd a kiss and she look'd down,
Her cheeks are spread with blushes;
By Jove, says I, I'll take the town,
Me back she gently pushes—
I like each girl, &c.

When off 'twas blown, and 'twas my place
To fly for Mary's bonnet,
So charming look'd her lovely face
There I stood gazing on it:
Dress'd all in white she tripp'd from home,
And set my blood a thrilling,
O, zounds! says I, the French are come,
Sweet Mary look'd so killing.
I like each girl▪ &c.

[Page 39]
When to our Colonel at review
A Duchess cry'd, so airy,
"How does your royal highness do?"
Says I, "I thank you, Mary:"
To quick time marching t'other day,
Our fifes play'd Andrew Carey,
To ev'ry girl I gave the way,
In compliment to Mary.

A MAID I LOVE.

A Maid I love who loves not me,
Yet to my friend is kind;
But thus I'll let my charmer see,
I'm to my fate resign'd:
To means as delicate as new,
Ideas soft ascend;
To shew myself a lover true,
I'll be a lover's friend:
Beat gentle love and friendship sweet,
In unison divine;
In Sinclair still a friend I'll meet,
And Mary still is mine.

Burn, gen'rous flame within my breast,
Still constant, bright, and pure;
Ah! let me see another blest,
And still my pains endure:
Each selfish thought my mind above,
Be these my joys alone;
The happiness of those I love
Preferring to my own.
Beat, gentle love, &c.

[Page 40]

A GLASS IS GOOD.

A GLASS is good, and a lass is good,
And a pipe to smoke in cold weather;
The world is good, and the people are good,
And we're all good fellows together.

A bottle it is a very good thing,
With a good deal of good wine in it;
A song is good when a body can sing,
And to finish we must begin it.
A table is good, when spread with good cheer,
And good company sitting round it;
When a good way off we're not very near,
And for sorrow, the devil confound it;
A glass is good, &c.

A friend is good when you're out of good luck,
For that's a good time to try him;
For a Justice good, the haunch of a buck,
With such a good present you buy him:
A fine old woman is good when she's dead,
A rogue very good for good hanging;
A fool is good by the nose to be led,
My good song deserves a good drubbing.
A glass is good, &c.

THE LASSY OF MY HEART.

THE spangled green confess'd the morn,
The rose bud dropt a tear,
And liquid prisms bedeck'd the thorn,
When Sandy sought his dear:
[Page 41]  [...]e never loon was e'er so cross'd —
Ye shepherd swains impart,
There did she gang? ah me! I've lost
The lassy of my heart.

 [...]er charms are felt as soon as kenn'd,
Eyne bright as brilliant gem;
 [...]t of her beauties there's no end,
Why need I talk of them?
The shepherd swain finds to his cost,
What pow'r they can impart,
But most poor Sandy, who has lost
The lassy of his heart.

 [...]ut mine's the fault and mine's the grief,
How could I rashly dare;
Oh, I have sinn'd beyond relief,
'Gainst all that's sweet and rare:
But see, she comes! cease heart to bound,
Some comfort to impart,
 [...]he smiles! ah shepherds I have found
The lassy of my heart.

THE NEGRO BOY. Sold for a Metal Watch, by an African Prince.

WHEN thirst of gold enslaves the mind,
And selfish views alone bear sway,
Man turns a savage to his kind,
And blood and rapine mark his way:
Alas! for this poor simple toy
I sold a guiltless negro boy.

[Page 42]
His father's hope, his mother's pride,
Though black yet comely to the view:
I tore him helpless from their side,
And gave him to a ruffian crew:
To fiends that Afric's coasts annoy,
I sold the weeping negro boy.

In Isles that deck the western main,
Th' unhappy youth was doom'd to dwell,
A poor, folorn, insulted slave,
A beast that christians buy and sell!
And yet, for this same simple toy,
I sold the weeping negro boy.

May he, who walks upon the wind,
Whose voice in thunder's heard on high,
Who doth the raging tempest bind,
And wings the lightning thro' the sky,
Forgive the wretch, who for a toy,
Could sell a hapless negro boy.

WRETCHED HENRY.

SWEET Laura, see the fatal hour,
Farewell, my soul's delight;
But how shall wretched Henry live,
Thus banish'd from thy sight
To my fond heart no rival joys
Supply the loss of thee;
But who can tell, if thou my dear,
Will e'er remember me.

[Page 43]
Alone thro' unfrequented wilds,
With pensive steps I rove;
I ask the rocks, I ask the streams,
Where dwells my absent love?
The silent eve, the rosy morn,
My constant search survey;
But who can tell, if thou, my dear,
Will e'er remember me.

Oft I'll review the smiling scene,
Each fav'rite brook and tree,
Where gaily pass'd the happy hours,
Those hours I've pass'd with thee
What painful fond memorials rise,
From ev'ry place I see;
But who can tell, if thou, my dear,
Will e'er remember me.

RECEIPT FOR THE VAPOURS.

WHY will Laura thus retire,
And idly languish life away;
While the sighing crowds admire,
Oh my lovely Laura stay:
Once again consult your toilet,
In the glass your face review;
So much weeping soon will spoil it,
And no spring your charms renew.

All the morals that they tell us,
Never cur'd the sorrow yet;
Chuse among the pretty fellows,
One of humour, youth, and wit:
[Page 44]Prithee hear him ev'ry morning,
At the least an hour or two,
Once again at night returning;
I believe the dose will do.

THE NUN'S COMPLAINT.

IN this sad and silent gloom,
Lost Louisa pines unknown,
Shrouded in a living tomb,
Doom'd to pine alone:
'Midst the silent shades of woe,
Tears of fond regret shall flow:
Tell, soft lute, in plaintive tone,
Sad Louisa's hapless moan,
'Midst the silent shades of woe,
Still the tears must flow.

Ye dark clouds that sail along,
Hide me in your shade profound;
Whisp'ring breezes bear my song,
To the woods around:
Should some pensive lover's feet,
Wander near this sad retreat,
Tell, soft lute, &c.

Tell her love's celestial tale,
Yields no bliss, no joy inspires;
Cold religion's icy veil,
Darkens all his fires:
No soft ray adorns the gloom,
Round the hapless vestal's tomb:
Tell, soft lute, &c.

[Page 45]
Fancy's flame within my breast,
Faintly glows with vital heat;
Tender passions sink to rest,
Soft my pulses beat:
Soon these languid eyes shall close,
Death's cold dart my eyes shall close;
Tell, soft lute, &c.

THE HAPPY SHEPHERDESS.

WHEN summer smiling bids the hills
With noon-tide fervours glow,
Plead my flocks beside the rills,
Which cheer the vale below:
Then elated with joy to the shade I repair,
For I'm sure the d [...]a [...] youth that I love will be there.

And when soft music o'er the plains
Proclaims the rural dance,
And blushing nymphs, and ardent swains,
In eager haste advance:
Then dated with joy to the dance I repair,
 [...]r I'm sure the dear youth that I love will be there.

Whene'er the cottagers appear,
Upon the village green,
 [...]o celebrate the wake or fair,
And hail the charming scene:
Then dated with joy to the green I repair,
 [...]or I'm sure the dear youth that I love will be there.

THE BARKING BARBER.

 [...]E gents, give ear to me I pray,
I am a barking barber;
[Page 46]The best accomodations have,
Keen razors and hot lather:
Pray walk into my noted shop,
I shave as clean as any;
And when I've done it to your mind,
Will charge you but a penny!
Bow, wow, wow,
I am a barking barber,
Bow, wow, wow.

Ye ragged pates your hair I'll crop,
And dress it vastly pretty;
Or if your blocks are bare, walk in,
I warrant I can fit ye,
With bag, or que, or long pig-tail,
Or bushy wig, or grizzled;
So well be-powder'd, clean, and white,
And eke so nicely frizzled.
Bow, wow, wow, &c.

My shop well furnish'd out with blocks,
Becomes an exhibition,
Of heads of ev'ry age and kind,
And every condition:
A lawyer's head without a quirk,
Without chicane, a proctor's;
A lady's head without a tongue,
Without a nostrum doctor's.
Bow, wow, wow, &c.

A poet's head without a rhyme,
A wit's too without punning;
Without a crotchet fidler's head,
A jockey's without cunning:
[Page 47]A jockey's head devoid of horns,
His wife's without invention;
A barber's head without his brains,
And other's I could mention.
Bow, wow, wow, &c.

And let none of the wicked wits
Despise my occupation:
The greater always shave the less,
In ev'ry rank and station:
The rich will ever shave the poor,
The Minister an't please ye,
Well lathers you with promises,
Then shaves you mighty easy.
Bow, wow, wow, &c.

And shavers clean I trow there are,
Of every profession;
But pardon now, my customers,
This whimsical digression:
And walk into my noted shop,
I shave as clean as any;
And when I've done it to your mind,
Will charge you but a penny.
Bow, wow, wow, &c.

THE DRUMMER.

DAPPER TED TATTOO is my natty name,
For a roll or a travelley;
Among the girls loud sounds my fame,
When I their quarters rally:
For with fife and drum,
I smirking come,
[Page 48]Leer, cock my hat,
Swear and all that,
Nor ever dread
A broken head,
Where the cause of strife's a doxy:
But as for wars,
And wounds and scars,
And fighting foes,
And thumps and blows,
I'd rather fight by proxy.

When chiefs and privates mingled lie,
And gasp without assistance,
In baggage waggon perch'd on high,
Stand umpire at a distance;
And with fife and drum,
I smirking come,
'Mong soldier's wives,
Who lead merry lives,
Nor ever dread,
A broken head,
Where the cause of strife's a doxy:
Let their husbands go,
And 'gainst the foe
Gain glory's scars,
In honor's wars,
I'd rather fight by proxy.

Yet think ye I'm not renown'd,
In foreign wars and civil,
Why, Sir, when safe at home and sound,
Zounds, I could fight the devil:
And with fife and drum,
Can smirking come,
[Page 49]And cock my hat,
Leer, and all that,
Nor ever dread,
A broken head,
When the cause of strife's a doxy:
Let others go,
And 'gainst the foe
Gain glory's scars,
In honor's wars;
I'd rather fight by proxy.

Thus thro' the world I'll make a noise,
Where'er I'm a sojourner;
The mighty wonder and surprise
Of every chimney corner:
Where with fife and drum
I smirking come,
And rap out zounds!
And talk of wounds,
Nor ever dread
A broken head,
Where the cause of strife's a doxy
They're fools who go,
And 'gainst the foe
In glory's wars
Gain honor's scars,
I'm wise and fight by proxy.

THE GIRL OF MY HEART.

Sung in the Woodman.

 [...]N the world's crooked path, where I've been,
There to share in life's gloom my poor heart,
[Page 50]The sun-shine that soften'd the scene
Was—a smile from the girl of my heart.

Not a swain when the lark quits her nest,
But to labour with glee will depart,
If at eve he expcts to be blest
With a smile from the girl of his heart.

Come then crosses and cares as they may,
Let my mind still this maxim impart,
That the comfort of man's fleeting day
Is—a smile from the girl of his heart.

Sung by Mr. Banister.

ON freedom's happy land,
My task of duty done,
With mirth's light-hearted band
Why not the lowly Woodman one?

Tho' fortune's smile our groves forsake,
Mirth may be left behind,
For wealth can neither give nor take
This treasure of the mind.
On freedom's happy land, &c.

Co [...], cheerfulness, with blithsome gait,
Trip by the peasant's side;
While care—in cold and fullen state,
S [...] on the brow of pride.
On freedom's happy land, &c.

THE WESTERN SKY.

THE western sky was purpl'd o'er,
With ev'ry pleasing ray,
[Page 51]And slocks reviving felt no more
The sultry heat of day.
When from an hazel's artless bow'r,
Soft warbled Strephon's tongue,
He blest the scene, he blest the bow'r,
While Nancy's praise he sung.

Let fops with fickle falshood range
The paths of wanton love;
Whilst weeping maids lament their change,
And sadden ev'ry grove:
But endless blessings crown the day,
I saw fair Esham's dale,
And ev'ry blessing find its way,
To Nancy of the vale.

Struck with her charms and gentle truth,
I clasp'd the constant fair,
To her alone I gave my youth,
And vow my future care:
And when this vow sh [...]l faithless prove,
Or I those charms forego,
The stream that saw our tender love,
That stream shall cease to flow.

IN the land of Hibernia young Pat drew his breath,
And sure ever since he has teaz'd me to death;
For so sweetly he sings and makes love with such art,
B [...] the faith of St. Patrick he's shot thro' my heart:
W [...] his gramachree Molly, ock, what can I do.

[Page 52]
He vows if I'll enter the conjugal life,
He'll—Oh, to be sure—only make me his wife!
Then so tender he looks when we lovingly chat,
That I long to be married— but won't tell him that,
With my gramachree, &c.

Last sunday at church he must fain tell the priest,
In a week or two more we are wedded at least:
And sure since he said it, my conscience will say,
If he don't lead me there, I will shew him the way.
With his gramachree, &c.

FAIR MARIA OF THE DALE.

'TIS not the tint of ruby hue,
That blushes on the full-blown rose;
Nor pearly drops of morning dew,
Distilling where the lily blows:
Nor fragrant gales that scent the air,
Nor sweets exhal'd from flow'ring vale.
Nor all these beauties can compare,
With fair Maria of the Dale.

The shepherds of the plain declare,
They ne'er have seen so sweet a maid;
And whilst they view the charming fair,
Love doth their easy hearts invade:
If she but smiles each blithsome swain
Steps forths to breathe his am'rous tale;
For ev'ry shepherd strives to gain
The lov'd Maria of the dale.

[Page 53]
TOM TACLE, A much admired Song composed by Mr. Dibdin, in his entertainment of Cas­tles in the Air.TOM TACLE was noble, was true to his word;
If merit brought titles, TOM might be my lord,
How gailey his bark through life's ocean would sail,
Truth furnish'd the rigging and honor the gale;
Yet TOM had a failing, if ever man had,
That as good as he was, made him all that was bad;
He was paltry, and pitiful, scurvy and mean,
And the sniv'lingest scoundrel that ever was seen;
For so said the girls and the landlords long shore,
Would you know what his fault was, TOM TACLE was poor.
'Twas once on a time when we took a gal­leon,
And the crew touched the agent for cash to some tune,
TOM took a trip to jail an old messmate to free,
And four thankful prattlers soon sat on his knee;
Then TOM was an Angel from Heav'n down sent,
While they had hands he his goodness should never repent:
Return'd from next voyage, he bemoan'd his sad case,
To find his dear friend shut the door in his face;
Why'd d'e wonder, cried one, you'r serv'd right to be sure,
Once TOM TACLE was rich, now TOM TA­CLE is poor.
[Page 54]I ben't you see versed in high maxims and such,
But don't this same honor concern poor and rich;
If it don't come from good hearts, I can't see where from,
And damme if e'er a tar had a good heart it was TOM:
Y [...]  [...]e how or other TOM never did right,
 [...] knew better the time when to spare or to sight,
He by finding a leak once preserved crew and ship,
Sav'd the Commodore's life, then he made such rare flip;
And yet for all this no o [...] could TOM en­dure,
I fancy's as how 'twas because he was poor.
At last an old shipmate, that TOM might hail land,
Who saw that his heart sail'd too fast for his hand,
In the riding of comfort a mooring to find,
Rees'd the sails of TOM's fortune that shook in the wind;
He gave him enough through life's ocean to steer,
Be the breeze what it might, steady thus or not near;
His pittance is daily, and yet TOM imparts,
What he can to his friends; and may all hon­est hearts,
Like TOM TACLE have what keeps the wolf from the door,
Just enough to be generous, too much to be poor.

[Page 55]

[...] LAVENDER GIRL.

WH [...]  [...] view the opening dawn,
A [...]  [...]dy streaks bepaint the sky,
 [...] their flight wing o'er the lawn,
 [...]  [...]ther flow'rs or herbs I fly:
 [...]roses, Cowslips, Mar [...]rom sweet,
The daisy-pied, the snow-drop fair,
And cry them thro' each lane and street,
But now my cry's sweet Lavender:
Four bunches a penny sweet lavender,
Four bunches a penny;
Come buy my sweet lavender.

My dad and mama both no more,
By my own labour must I live;
But heaven's manna feeds the poor,
And orphans oft' its aid receive.
Primroses, &c.

Of't pitying hearts to hear me hie,
With thanks is ta'en the smallest aid;
And gratitude calls forth a sigh,
From your poor little orphan maid:
Primroses, &c.

ARISTIPPUS.

LET care be a stranger to each jovial soul,
Who, Aristippus like, can his passions controul;
Of wisest philosophers wisest was he,
Who, attentive to ease, let his mind still be free;
Statesman 'squire, or peasant, to him were the same,
For Pleas'd, he was pleasing to all where he came.
[Page 56]But still turn'd his back on contention and strife,
Resolving to live all the days of his life.
A friend to mankind, all mankind was his friend,
And the peace of his mind was his ultimate end;
He found fault with none, if none found fault with him,
If his friend had a humour, he humour'd his whim;
If wine was the word, why he bumper'd his glass,
If love was the topic, he toasted his lass—
But still turn'd his back on contention and strife,
Resolving to live all the days of his life.

 [...] councils disputed, if councils agreed,
He found fault with neither, for this was his creed,
That let them be guided by folly or sense,
'Twould he semper eadem an hundred years hence:
He thought 'twas unsocial to be mal-content,
If the tide went with him, with the tide too he went,
But still turn'd his back on contention and strife,
Resolving to live all the days of his life.

Was the nation at war? he wish'd well to the sword,
If a peace was concluded a peace was his word;
Disquiet to him, of body or mind,
Was the longitude only he never could find—
[Page 57]The philosopher's stone was but gravel and pain,
And all who had sought it had sought it in vain;
He still turn'd his back on contention and strife,
Resolving to live all the days of his life.

Then let us all follow Aristippus's rules,
And deem his opponents both asses and mules;
Let those not contented to lead or to drive,
By the bees of their sex be drove out of their hive;
Expell'd from the mansions of quiet and ease,
May they never find out the blest art how to please;
While our friends and ourselves, not forget­ting our wives,
By these maxims may live all the days of our lives.

THANKSGIVING SONG.

 [...]GAIN, my dear friends, since we're met in full glee,
The rest of the world, if they please, may go crazy;
From the world and its cares once more being free,
Have we aught here to do but to make our­selves easy?
While o'er the full bowl,
We're expanding the soul,
Of spleen or of envy we need not to growl;
But what Jove hath commanded we'll freely obey,
Come to-morrow what will, we'll enjoy life to-day.
[Page 58]While with high animation, with true attic fire,
Like the fam'd enroll'd Philos of yore, we are glowing;
While harmony, friendship, and Bacchus in­spire,
And the rarest effusions of genius are flow­ing;
Hark, old thunder once more,
'Hermes, open the door,
Let us hear the high fun of these lovers of lore:
Who, what Jove hath commanded, so freely obey,
Come to-morrow what will, they'll enjoy life to-day.

May we here often meet, to the cause ever true▪
While friendship amidst us incessantly springs;
May mirth and good-humour, be ever in view,
'Till Time comes again with a feast on his wings:
Then may each man appear,
In probity here,
The reverse, my dear boys, we're too hearty to fea [...]
So what Jove has commanded we'll e'en freely obey,
Come to-morrow what will, we'll enjoy life to-day.

IN PURSUIT OF THE FASHION.

HARK forward's the word, and all join in the chace,
Ambition and politics now must give place;
After fancy and folly we eagerly fly,
In pursuit o [...] the fashion—Hark forward's the cry.

[Page 59]

Pell-mell, after Cupid, each heart wounding dame,

From sixteen to sixty's pursuing the game;

With their full flowing tresses, some hobble, some fly,

In pursuit of the fashion—Hark forward's the cry.

Ding dong, helter skelter, the sweet scented beaux
Either lead the pursuit, or fall in at the close;
With their pockets so low, and their collars so high,
Pursuing the fashion—Hark forward's the cry.

Let the fashion be chang'd, it has lasted too long,
If its conquest we aim at, we're all in the wrong;
To the fame of our Country let each have an eye
And her foes be the game, when hark forward's the cry.

FISHING.

ONE morning in June, when all nature did bloom,
The angler got up and away;
The birds strain'd their throats, in melodious notes,
To welcome the approaching day:
Thus being charm'd, and with solitude arm'd,
Calm patience the angler's theme;
He hies to the brook, with his rod, line, and hook,
And joyfully fishes the stream.
[Page 60]He walks down the meadows so pleasant and green,
Intent on his angle and prey;
The mower so blythe whets his scythe with a stone,
While maidens are making new hay:
The sport being over, he packs up his store,
Returns to the villa again;
The ev'ning he spends with his bottle and friends,
Where wine, mirth, and joy crown his pain.

MAKE MUCH OF TO-DAY.

LE [...] all those who would wish to hear reason,
Attend to the lesson I give;
Since to-day is for pleasure the season,
O seize the dear moments and live:
'Tis a maxim we all must remember,
"While the sun-shines besure to make hay,"
Which reminds us from June to December,
That we ought to make much of to-day.

Away then with care and with sorrow,
And with all that may burthen the mind;
He who pleasure puts off 'till to-morrow,
Loses that which he wishes to find:
The present for mirth is the hour.
The present's the time to be gay,
With haste let us take then the flower,
Which can only be gather'd to-day.

Our condition as quickly may vary,
As the world, or the tide, or the moon;
Our schemes and our projects miscarry,
Nay, e'en death may o'er take us as soon:
[Page 61]Then since life's no more than a bubble,
Enjoy all its gifts while you may;
To-morrow may enter with trouble,
Then at least be secure of to-day.

THE NEGLECTED FAIR.

OF Columbia's boast the praise be mine;
What's that but American beauty?
With rapture I'd invoke the nine,
Ye men, learn hence your duty:
The sex were blessings all design'd,
With rapture then enjoy them;
Nor so debase a female mind,
To conquer, then destroy them:
Then, O protect Columbia's fair,
Be mindful of your duty;
May vengeance ne'er the villain spare,
A foe to love and beauty.

That tender form you first seduc'd,
Why is it now neglected?
Behold her sad, by grief reduc'd,
Pale, meagre, and dejected!
Behold her begging with a sigh,
Behold her disregarded!
Then view the anguish in her eye!
And say, is love rewarded?
Then, O protect, &c.

Each female heart is free from guile,
'Till crafty men infect it;
With artful tale, or magic wile,
He wins, and then neglects it:
[Page 62]Her pining soul finds no relief,
Sad tears flow fast and melt her;
Her o'er fraught bosom bursts with grief,
And in the grave finds shelter!
Then, O protect, &c.

When fortune frowns and friends forsake,
Still lovely woman cheers us;
Our grief or raptures they partake,
Distresses but endear us:
While man's professions all will fly,

Nor dying will abet you,
But meet your corpse as passing by,
And with a sigh forget you.
Then O protect, &c.

While round your bed the mourning fair
Hangs like a drooping willow,
Each pang or sigh still anxious share,
Nor leave your woe-worn pillow!—
Then charge your glasses to the fair,
May beauty ne'er be slighted—
That source of bliss, by whom we are
Conceiv'd brought forth, delighted.
Then, O protect, &c.

SWEET WILLY.

WHILST on those hills I feed my sheep,
Sweet Willy in my mind,
He makes me often for to weep,
I fear he is unkind:
And though I frown and turn away,
Yet him I dearly love;
[Page 63]From lambs and Lambkins I would stray
If he would constant prove.

I said to him, dear Willy, mind,
That lambs are made a prey;
And wicked wolves we often find,
With lambkins run away:
But that's not me, sweet Willy cry'd,
I can't hurt what I love;
In yonder kirk you'll be my bride,
Which shortly I will prove.

The other day he spoke more plain,
And press'd I'd fix the day;
Ungrateful I to give him pain,
Or let my lambkins stray,
Did promise then with falt'ring voice,
And stutter'd—Sunday noon;
I own'd to him he was my choice,
But thought the day too soon.

To kirk we went on Sunday noon,
Where we were both made one;
I did not think it then too soon,
Which now shall end my song:
I happy am, sweet Willy cried,
'Tis you that I adore;
And now he has made me his bride,
I'll love him more and more.

YOUNG DONALD.

 [...]OUNG Donald is a bonny lad,
None blither I can see
[Page 64]Sae trim he wears his tartan plaid,
Sae kind he blinks at me:
As kind I blink at him again,
My smiles I dinna stint;
Yet still he gives my bosom pain,
He winna take the hint.

He tither day a posie brought,
The rose and lily too:
An emblem, I must own, I thought,
Would tell him what to do:
I curtified low and smil'd again,
My smiles I never stint,
Yet still he gives my bosom pain,
He canna take the hint.

Ye sonsy lasses of the town
Advise me if you can,
That I may a' my wishes crown,
Upon a modest plan:
I'll do my best to gain his love,
My dress shall be in print,
And I will ever constant prove,
If he will take the hint.

RETURNING SPRING.

RETURNING spring resumes the groves
To animate the year;
The linnet tunes its song of love,
Delightful to the ear:
I'll try my best, like birds in spring,
And raise my humble song,
While here Apollo strikes the string
To charm the list'ning throng.

[Page 65]
Sometimes I'll be of Dian's train,
To join the hounds and horn;
While echo answer o'er the plain,
To hail the rising morn:
Sometimes with Flora I'll be gay,
And blithsome trip along,
And gather sweets of blooming May,
To please the passing throng.

For, all my happiness, I own,
Is to give pure delight;
And your applause will surely crown
My wishes ev'ry night:
Each varied part my simple voice
Shall try, in every song,
To make you happy, and rejoice,
And please the list'ning throng.

IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT.

IN the dead of the night, when, with labour opprest,
All mortals enjoy the sweet blessings of rest,
A boy knock'd at my door, I awoke with the noise,
Who is it, said I, that my rest thus destroys?

He answer'd so softly, so gently, so mild,
I am a poor little unfortunate child,
It's a cold rainy night, I am wet to the skin,
And I have lost my way, so pray let me in.

In compassion I rose, and st [...]king a light,
I open'd the door, when a boy met my sight,
[Page 66]He had wings at his shoulders, the rain from them dripp'd,
And with bow and arrow the boy was equipp'd.

I stirr'd up my fire, set him down by my side,
And with a warm napkin the wet from him dri'd:
I chaff'd him all o'er to keep out the cold air,
And the wet I wrung out with my hand from his hair.

No sooner from wet and from cold he found ease,
When, taking up his bow, said, madam, if you please,
If you please, I would fain, by experiment know,
If the rain has not damag'd the string of my bow,

Then straight from his quiver an arrow he drew,
Which aiming at my heart, twang went the yew;
My bow [...]s not damag'd nor yet is my dart,
But you'll find some trouble in bearing the smart

DEAR IS MY LITTLE NATIVE VALE.

DEAR is my little native vale,
The ring dove builds and warbles there;
Close by thy  [...]t she tells her tale,
To every passing villager!
The squi [...]rel leaps from tree to tree,
A [...] sh [...]ls his nuts a [...] liberty.

In orange groves, or myrtle bow'rs,
That breathe a gal [...] of fragrance round;
[Page 67]I charm'd the fairy-footed hours,
With my lov'd lute's romantic sound;
Or crowns of living laurel weave,
For those who win the race at eve.

The shepherd's horn at break of day,
The ballad danc'd in twilight glade;
The canzonet and roundelay,
Sung in the silent greenwood shade;
These simple joys that never fail,
Shall bind me to my native vale.

THE FOND FAIR.

WHEN lovers for favors petition,
Oh! then they approach with respect;
But when in our hearts they've admission,
They treat us with scorn and neglect:
'Tis dangerous ever to try 'em,
So artful are men to deceive;
'Tis safer, much safer to fly 'em,
So easy are maids to believe.

O, Cupid, why art thou pursuing,
Such endless designs on my heart,
To make me so fond of my ruin,
And doat on the cause of my smart?
In vain do I strive to remove him,
Affection to reason is blind;
In spite of his failings I love him,
He's charming, though false and unkind.

[Page 68]

THE GIRL IS BEWITCH'D.

SUCH a Tom-boy before I had enter'd my teens,
In spite of my granny was I,
From my sampler, and doll, and such babyish scenes,
For a good game at romps would I fly;
Though she dodg'd me, and watch'd me, defy'd and besought,
To quiet my rogue of a heart,
My legs were too light for my grandmother's thoughts.
When my youth was a match for her art—
When she found her experience was thus over-reach'd,
She'd exclaim, in a rage, sure the girl is be­witch'd.

She lectur'd me next, when my frock laid aside,
And bid me beware of the men;
But such lectures she knew I could never abide,
So I told her again and again;
Nay, oft in the midst, I'd break from her and laugh,
At such prudish dull maxims and stuff;
She always for me was too serious by half,
So I'd leave her alone in a huff—
When she found 'twas in vain that to me she preach'd,
She'd exclaim, in a rage, sure the girl is be­witch'd.
'Till I met with a lad whose face and whose chat
With a thousand nice pleasantries mov'd;
[Page 69]Who told a long tale, I scarce knew about what,
Except 'twas to say that he lov'd;
Nor even from him no long speeches I'd hear,
Though I lov'd him as dear as my life;
Now we romp, dance and frolic each day of the year,
He's as mad and as gay as his wife!
Now my granny may frown, since in vain she has preach'd,
And the world, if it pleases, may think us be­witch'd.

THE LARK HAD PROCLAIM'D THE NEW DAY.

THE lark had proclaim'd the new day,
The sun was like gold in the east;
From milking I trip'd on my way,
When Damon pursued me in haste:
Pastora, says he, pray be kind,
And grant me a heart-cheering smile,
For you are the girl to my mind,
And I'll lift your pail over the stile.

His offer was not much amiss,
Yet I frowned as virgins will do;
But when he attempted a kiss,
I cry'd, Damon, what is it you do;
He gave me a civil salute,
And banish'd my frowns for a smile;
You'll guess, without any dispute,
That he lifted me over the stile.

[Page 70]
Of wedlock he talk'd, and all that,
And vow'd he would make me his wife;
I own I was fond of his chat,
And ne'er was so pleas'd in my life:
His passion I found was sincere,
And he did not mean to beguile,
To church then I went without fear,
So he handed me over the stile.

O, WE SHALL LIVE TOGETHER.

KILKARDY is a bonny place,
And Jemmy lives beside it,
'Twas there we saw each other's face,
Whatever may be [...]ide it:
But, be it ill, or be it not,
I dinna care a feather;
For soon at kirk we'll tie the not,
And we shall live together.

O, we shall live together, laddie,
We shall live together;
O, we shall live together, laddie,
We shall live together.

My mither raves from morn to night,
And says I must grow older;
Yet she is seldom in the right,
As father oft' has told her:
So let her scold and let her frown,
I dinna care a feather;
The parson will be soon in town,
 [...] we shall live together.

[Page 71]
My mither vows it shanna be,
When father is not near her;
But since we've made a friend of he,
I dinna muckle fear her;
For be she right or be she wrong,
I dinna care a feather,
Since we're to marry ere 'tis long,
Then we shall live together.
O, we, &c.

ADELAIS.

LONG e're the tints of rosy day
Fled from the Py [...]ne [...]n steep,
A dreary waste before us lay,
Wild torrents and rude chasms deep.

When rose the moon, her doubtful gleam,
A varying horror round us spread;
We heard afar the night bird scream,
And prowling wolves increas'd the dread.

At length a glimmer o'er us shot,
And lur'd us to approach this cot;
O, let our pray'rs your pity win,
Arise! arise! and let us in.

THE ROSARY.

THO' oft we meet severe distress,
In vent'ring out to sea;
The perils of the main seem less,
As we to heav'n our vows address,
And sing the cheering rosary.

[Page 72]
Our kids that rove the mountains wide,
And bound in harmless glee,
I seek each day at even tide—
And while their course I homeward guide,
I sing the cheering rosary.

And in the deeper shades of night,
While thro' the woods I flee,
Where gloom and silence yield affright,
To make my beating heart sit light,
I sing the cheering rosary.

I TREAD THE BORDERS.

I TREAD the borders of the main,
And to the stormy waves complain;
But can the billows sooth his breast,
The billows—ne'er themselves at rest.

The sea-worn cliff indeed replies,
Its jeering echo mocks my sighs,
For sure that echo from a rock has birth,
Which makes the tale of misery its mirth.

THE WAVING WILLOW.

'TWAS at the hour of day's decline,
When, to the neighb'ring hills I went,
To tie up many a drooping vine,
By weight of purple clusters bent:
That done—beneath a willow shade,
Which o'er Beovia's river play'd.
I sat and sung to the waving willow.

[Page 73]
While there I mus'd, and watch'd the stream,
A boat approach'd with lazy oar—
Of love—ah! little did I dream,
'Till roguish Casper sprang on shore:
A thousand vows he made me hear,
And I believ'd them all sincere,
While resting near the waving willow.

From that time, 'till I gave my hand,
He ne'er would let me be at rest;
At church he near me us'd to stand;
With me to dance he always prest:
And let me hope he'll mend at last,
Nor force me to regret what pass'd
While resting near the waving willow.

DEAR WANDERER.

DEAR wand'rer, O whither thy steps shall I trace?
Were the region but known I would disregard space!
Thro' forests, thro' deserts, unweari'd I'd flee,
For each wish of my heart turns with fondness to thee.

Dear wanderer, wherever reposes thy head,
O'er thy flumbers may sweetest illusions be shed,
And may thy lov'd form haunt my dreams—for to me
Sleep brings not a blessing unless it brings thee.

[Page 74]

OH, COME AWAY.

OH, come away,
Come, my soldier bonny;
I am smart and gay,
But for handsome Johnny.

Ensign, pretty doll,
Crimson sash so wrapt in;
Minces, "charming Poll,
Can you love a Captain?"
Oh, come away, &c.

To his fine marque,
At the camp last summer,
He sent for me to tea,
By the little drummer.
Oh, come away, &c.

As I cross parade,
Officers stand blinking;
Under each cockade,
Sly, an eye cocks winking.
Oh, come away, &c.

Johnny steps in time,
Sweetly play the hautboys;
Hearts all merry chime,
March and beat the foe, boys,
Oh, come away, &c.

[Page 75]

THE CHOICE.

WHEN in a garden sweet I walk,
The charming flowers admiring,
Each nods upon its tender stalk,
And seems my touch desiring:
Tho' all of beauties are possess'd,
Too much to be rejected,
Yet only one for Mary's breast,
By fancy is selected.

Full conscious of thy faith and truth,
No wrong to thee intended:
Ah! should I chuse some other youth,
Be not, fond youth, offended:
The starting tear, the heaving sigh,
True signs not disregarded;
But, by a maid, more fair than I,
Oh, be thy love rewarded.

HOW PLEAS'D WITHIN MY NATIVE BOW'RS.

HOW pleas'd within my native bow'rs,
Ere while I pass'd the day;
Was ever scene so deck'd with flow'rs,
Were ever flow'rs so gay?
How sweetly smil'd the hill, the vale,
And all the landscape round;
The river-gliding down the dale,
The hill with beeches crown'd.

[Page 76]
But now, when urg'd by tender woes,
I speed to meet my dear,
That hill and stream my zeal oppose,
And check my fond career:
No more, since Daphne was my theme,
Their wonted charms I see;
That verdant hill and silver stream,
Divide my love and me.

CUPID'S BOW.

From dimpled youth to wrinkled age;
The hero, monarch, and the sage;
My rights divine allow:
And own a throbbing tickling smart,
Which wantons in each mortal's heart,
When Cupid bends the bow.

The rustic swain, the village lass,
Who trip it lightly o'er the grass,
Oft' feel they know not how:
And fondly gaze, and fairly sigh,
And shamefac'd blush, they know not why,
When Cupid bends the bow.

Great Jove, whom deities adore,
Has often yielded to my pow'r,
And felt his bosom glow:
E'en Pluto vainly 'gainst me strove,
He willing owns the pow'r of love,
When Cupid bends the bow.

[Page 77]

ELVIRA.

THE chilling gale that nip'd the rose,
Now murm'ring, sinks to soft repose;
The shad'wy vapours fly away,
Upon the silv'ry floods of day:
Health breathes on ev'ry face I see,
But ah! she breathes no more on me.

The woodbine wafts its odours meek,
To kiss the rose's glowing cheek;
Pale twilight sheds his vagrant showers,
To wake Aurora's infant flowers:
May smiles on ev'ry face I see,
But ah! she smiles no more on me.

Perchance when youth's delicious bloom
Shall fade unheeded in the tomb,
 [...]ate may direct a daughter's eye
To where my mould'ring reliques lie:
And, touch'd by sacred sympathy,
That eye shall drop a tear for me.

ABSENCE.

RESTRAIN'D from the sight of my dear,
No object with pleasure I see;
Tho' thousands around me appear,
The world's but a desert to me:
In vain is the verdure of May,
The trees drest so blooming and gay,
The birds tho' they whistle and sing,
Delight not while Damon's away.

[Page 78]
Reclin'd by a soft murm'ring stream,
I weeping disburthen my care;
I tell to the rocks my fond theme,
When echo bu [...] sooths my despair.
In vain is the verdure, &c.

Ye streams that soft murmuring flow,
Convey to my love ev'ry tear;
Ye rocks that resound with my woe,
Repeat the complaints in his ear.
In vain is the verdure, &c.

TUG AT THE OAR. Sung in the Purse.

O THINK on my fate!—once I freedom on joy'd,
Was happy as happy could be!
But pleasure is fled—even hope is destroy'd,
A captive, alas! on the sea!
I was ta'en by the foe—'twas the fiat of fate,
To tear me from her I adore!
When thought brings to mind my once happy state,
I sigh, while I tug at the oar.

Hard, hard is my fate—oh how galling my chain.
My life's steer'd by misery's chart;
And though 'gainst my tyrants I scorn to complain,
Tears gush forth to ease my full heart:
[Page 79]I disdain e'n to shrink, tho' I feel the sharp lash,
Yet my breast bleeds for her I adore,
While around me the unfeeling billows will dash,
I sigh and still tug at the oar.

How fortune deceives!—I had pleasure in tow,
The port where she dwelt we'd in view,
But the wish'd nuptial morn was o'erclouded with woe,
And, dear Anna, I was hurried from you:
Our shallop was boarded and I borne away,
To behold my dear Anna no more,
But despair wastes my spirits, my form feels de­cay—
He sigh'd and expir'd at the oar.

HOW SWEET WHEN THE SILVER MOON IS BLINKING.

HOW sweet when the silver moon is blinking,
Through meads to w [...]nder slow and mute,
And of some absent lover thinking,
Listen to the tender lute:
Or at the jocund dawn of day,
When feather'd choirs are singing, O,
And sprightly sounds the sportive bay,
And village bells are ringing, O:
To the merry, merry strain to dance and play,
And over the Greensward trip away.

[Page 80]
While the love-lorn maid is fondly sighing,
Let music soft her ears assail;
In plaintive murmurs, breezes dying,
Listen to the tender tale:
Or at the jocund dawn of day, &c.

ZEPHYR come, thou playful minion,
Greet with whispers soft mine ear;
Hence each breeze of ruder pinion,
Tell me I have nought to fear.

Gentle zephyr wing him over,
Tho' I ne'er behold him more;
With the breath of some young lover,
Waft him to his native shore.

WHEN first I slipp'd my leading strings—to please her little Poll,
My mother bought me at the fair a pretty wax­en doll;
Such sloe black eyes and cherry checks the smiling dear possest,
How could I kiss it oft' enough, or hug it to my breast.

No sooner I could prattle it, as forward misses do,
Than how I long'd and sigh'd to hear my dolly prattle too;
I curl'd her hair in ringlets neat, and dress'd her very gay,
And yet the sulky hussey, not a syll [...]le would say.

[Page 81]

Provok'd that to my questions kind, no answer I could get,

I shook the little hussy well, and whip'd her in a pet;

My mother cry'd, Oh fie upon 't—pray let your doll alone,

If e'er you wish to have a pretty baby of your own.

My head on this I bridled up, and threw the plaything by,
Altho' my sister snubb'd me for't—I know the reason why—
I fancy she would with to keep the sweet­hearts all her own,
But that she shan't, depend upon't—when I'm a woman grown.

SWEET innate—sensibility,
How pure thy transports flow,
When even grief that springs from thee,
Is luxury in woe:
Without thee where's the sigh of love,
Or bru [...]h by grace refin'd?
Where friendship's sacred tear to prove
The triumph of the mind.

THE TEAR.

MY heart from my bosom would fly,
And wander, oh wander afar,
[Page 82]Reflection bedews my sad eye,
For Henry is gone to the war:
O ye winds, to my Henry bear
One drop, let it fall on his breast,
The tear as a pearl he will wear,
And I [...]n remembrance be blest.

In vain smiles the glittering scene,
In vain blooms the roseate flow'r;
The sun-shine in April's not seen,
I have only to do with the show'r.
O ye winds, &c.

Ye winds that have borne him away,
Restore the dear youth to my arms,
Restore me to sun shine and day,
'Tis night 'till my Henry returns.
Oh ye winds, &c.

THE STOLEN KISS.

ON a mossy bank reclin'd,
Beauteous Chloe lay reposing;
O'er her breast each am'rous wind
Wanton play'd, its sweets disclosing:
Tempted with the swelling charms,
Colin, happy swain, drew nigh her,
Softly sto [...]e into her arms,
Laid his script and sheep-hook by her,

O'er her downy panting breast,
His delighted fingers roving,
To her lips his lips be press'd,
In the ecstasy of loving;
[Page 83]Chloe waken'd with his kiss,
Pleas'd, yet frowning to conceal it,
Cry'd true lovers share the bliss,
Why then Colin, would you steal it.

THE KISS REPAID.

CHLOE, by that borrow'd kiss,
I, alas! am quite undone;
'Twas so sweet, so fraught with bliss,
Thousand will not pay that one.

Least the debt should break your heart,
Roguish Chloe, smiling cries,
Come, a thousand then in part,
For the present shall suffice.

THE IMAGINARY KISS.

WHEN Fanny I saw, as she trip'd o'er the green
Fa [...], blooming, soft, artless, and kind,
Fond love in her eye, wit and sense in her mein,
And warmness with modesty join'd:
Transported with sudden amazement I stood,
Fast riveted down to the place,
Her delicate shape, easy motion I view'd,
And wander'd o'er every grace.

Ye gods! what luxuriance of beauty I cry,
What raptures must dwell in her arms;
On her lips I could feast, on her breast I could die,
O Fanny how sweet are thy charms

[Page 84]

Whilst thus in idea my passion I fed,

Soft transport my senses invade,

Young Damon step'd up, with the substance he fled,

And left me to kiss the dear shade.

THE MEETING KISS.

LET me fly into thy arms,
Let me taste again thy charms;
Kiss me press me to thy breast,
In rapture not to be exprest:

Let me clasp thy lovely waist,
Throw thy arms around my neck;
Thus embracing and embrac'd,
Nothing shall our raptures check.

Hearts with mutual pleasure glowing,
Lips with lips together growing,
Eyes with tears of gladness flowing:
Eyes, and lips, and hearts shall show,
The joys that meeting lovers know.

THE RECONCILING KISS.

WHY that sadness on thy brow,
Why that starting chrystal tear;
Dearest Polly let me know,
For thy grief I cannot bear:

[Page 85]

Folly with a sigh reply'd,

What need I the cause impart;

Did you not this moment chide?

And you know it breaks my heart.

Colin melting as she spoke,
Caught the  [...]air-one in his arms,
O my dear, that tender look,
Every passion quite disarm:
By this dear relenting kiss,
I'd no anger in my thought;
Come, my love, by this and this,
Let our quarrel be forgot.

As when sudden stormy rain,
Every drooping flow'ret spoils;
When the sun shines out again,
All the faces of nature smiles:
Polly so reviv'd and cheer'd,
By her Colin's kind embrace,
Her declining head unp'rear'd,
Sweetly smiling in her face.

THE MUTUAL KISS.

CAELIA, by those smiling graces,
Which thy panting bosom warm;
By the heaven of thy embraces,
By thy wond'rous pow'r to charm;
By those soft bewitching glances,
Which my inmost bosom move,
By those lips whose kiss entrances,
Thee and thee alone I love.

[Page 86]
By the god-like art of loving,
Caelia with a blush replies,
By thy heavenly power of moving,
All my soul to sympathize:
By those eager soft caresses,
By those arms around me thrown;
By that look which truth expresses,
My fond heart is all thy own.

Thus with glowing inclination,
They indulge the tender bliss,
And to bind the lasting passion,
Seal it with the mutual kiss:
Close in fond embraces lying,
They together seem to grow;
Such supreme delight enjoying,
As  [...]ue lovers only know.

WHEN Donald first came wooing me,
'Twas on C [...]omarty-Green,
The lad had long been loving me,
Tho' I was but nineteen:
He sung of that and talk'd of this,
And many things said he,
At length he cry'd and took a kiss,
Sweet love I'll marry thee;
My bonny, blithsome, winsome lass,
Sweet love I'll marry thee.

I winna, canna marry you,
Said I, so let me go;
He kiss'd, he press'd, what could I do,
While he kept teazing so:
[Page 87]And wilt thou e'er prove false, I said,
O try me, love, said he;
Why then, says I, I think we'll wed,
Sweet love I'll marry thee:
My bonny, blithsome, winsome lad,
Sweet love I'll marry thee.

I told him plain it munna be,
For why, I was too young;
And was for tripping o'er the lea,
In spite of all he sung:
Stop, lassy, stop awhile, he cry'd,
And pull'd me on his knee,
I tell thee thou shalt be a bride,
Sweet love I'll marry thee:
My bonny, blithsome, winsome lass,
Sweet love I'll marry thee.

WHEN I was a chit, just got into my teens,
And the men would be asking a kiss;
Thinks I to myself, I scarce know what it means,
But I think I ought nor to say yes:
To be sure it was fine,
When they call'd me divine,
Tho' I've simper'd and cry'd, lot me go,
O dear, Sir, O la!
I'll acquaint my mama,
If thus you keep teazing and squeezing me so.

Improving in skill as advancing in years,
Each lesson of love got by heart,
More eager my hopes, more decided my fears,
Pure nature sought refuge in art—
[Page 88]At each swain that drew nigh,
I look'd under my eye,
And loiter'd pretending to go:
If prest to sit down,
I exclaim'd with a frown,
How dare you keep teazing and squeezing me so.

Coqueting's now o'er, and settled for life,
Each feeling is fairly confess'd,
Attach'd to the duties of parent and wife,
'Tis nature still reigns in the breast,
To my heart's bosom friend,
I no coolness pretend,
No [...] from him seem anxious to go:
Nor ever complain,
With affected disdain,
But doubt whether squeezing be teazing or no.

YE youths, wheresoever ye wander so free,
I pray give attention and listen to me,
For truly my case is distressing and hard,
If none of your sex will my counsel regard:
If you wish for a wife,
To be happy for life,
Here's one that will sell you a heart for a heart;
Come, come, prithee buy,
Or else I shall die,
O pity a maiden, and pray take her part.
Ah, do—ah do—
O pity a maiden, and pray take her part.

[Page 89]
Full seventeen summers have now roll'd along,
And still I'm unmarried—a little too long!
But, since I have waited the time I have said,
I'll tell you the husband I now wish to wed:
Good sense I must find,
In the youth to my mind,
Not a fop or a coxcomb can e'er touch my heart;
No, no—he must be
 [...]d temper'd and free—
O, pity a  [...]en and pray take her part.
A [...]  [...] &c.

Should you  [...]rn in your minds now a virgin's advice,
I charge you ye bachelors, don't be too nice;
Tho' for virtue and to s [...] I may stand the  [...]e [...]
O, you'll find me  [...]o more than a woman at b [...]t!
Indeed it is true,
So mind what you do,
'Ere you da [...]e for the temple of Hymen to start;
But should you incline,
Hand and heart to entwine,
O pity  [...]aiden and pray take her part.
Ah, do, &c.

CAROLINE OF LITCHFIELD.

THE village hind with toil had done,
And homeward bent his way,
While on the w [...] the setting sun
Clos'd the departing day;
[Page 90]When Caroline of Litchfield strove,
All seemingly to borrow,
The plaintive wailings of the dove,
To aid awhile her sorrow.

As dews distilling on the rose,
In brightness oft' appear;
So Caroline amid her woes,
Seem'd lovelier in a tear:
"Ah me," she cry'd, "life has no charm,
For, 'nea [...] the drooping willow,
My lover sleeps in death's cold arms,
Upon a moisten'd pillow."

"For me he brav'd the dang'rous part,
And found a wat'ry tomb;
Can silence reign then in the heart,
Or gratitude be dumb?
Ah! no—affection's tear shall flow,
Pure as the chrystal fountain,
'Till death shall end this life of woe,
Which now's beyond surmounting."

Then sighing with a wishful look,
A loose to grief she gave,
And headlong plung'd into the brook,
There sunk beneath the wave:
The village maids the tale relate,
At eve and early morning,
How love was nipt by adverse fate,
'Ere scarcely it was dawning.

[Page 91]
THRO' groves sequester'd dark and still,
Low vales and mossy cells among,
In silent paths the careless rill,
With languid murmurs steals along:
Awhile it plays with circling sweep,
And lingering leaves its native plains,
Then pours impetuous down the steep,
And mingles with the boundless main.

O let my years thus devious glide,
Through silent scenes obscurely calm,
Nor wealth nor strife pollute the  [...]de,
Nor honor's sangu'nary palm:
When labour tires, and pleasure palls,
Still let the stream untroubled be,
As down the steep of age it falls,
And mingles with eternity.

IF truth can fix the wav'ring heart,
Let Damon urge his claim;
He feels the passion void of art,
The pure the constant flame:
The sighing swain their torments tell,
Their sensual love contemn;
They only prize the beauteous shell,
But slight the inward gem.

Possession cures the wounded heart,
Destroys the transient fire;
But when the mind receives the dart,
Enjoyment whets desire:
[Page 92]By age your beauty will decay,
Your mind improve with years,
As when the blossom fades away,
The ripening fruit appears.

THE PEASANT'S PETITION.

WHEN the trees are all bare, not a leaf to be seen,
And the meadows their beauties have lost;
When all nature's disrob'd of its mantle of green,
And the streams are fast bound by the frost:
When the peasant, inactive, stands shiv'ring with cold,
Bleak the winds as they northerly blow,
And the innocent flocks run for shelter to fold,
With their fleeces all prinkled with snow.

In the yard when the cattle are sodder'd with straw,
And send forth their breath like a steam;
When the neat looking dairy maid sees she must thaw
Flakes of ice that she finds on her cream:
The blithe country maiden as fresh as the rose,
As she carelessly trips often slides,
And the rustics loud laugh, if in falling she shews
Those charms which her modesty hides.

[Page 93]
When the lads and the lasses for company join'd,
And round the hall embers are met,
Talk of witches, and fairies that ride on the wind,
And of ghosts, 'till they're all in a sweat:
When the birds to the barn-door come hov'ring for food,
Or silently sit on the spray;
And the poor timid hare in vain seeks the wood,
For faithless her footsteps betray.

Heaven grant in that season it may be my lot,
With the girl that I love and admire,
When the  [...]ickles hang to the eaves of my cot,
I may thither in safety retire:
There in neatness and quiet, and free from surprise,
May we live and no hardships endure,
Nor feel any turbulent passions arise.
But those which each other can cure.

I AM a jolly gay pedlar,
Come here to sell my ware:
And tho' in all things I'm a medler,
I meddle most with the fair:
When I shew my ribbons to misses,
Tho' copper and silver I gain,
Yet better I'm pleas'd with the blisses,
Which now I cannot explain.

[Page 94]
Fools say that life is but sorrow,
And seem disinclin'd to be gay;
But why should we think of to-morrow,
When we may be happy to-day:
I rove round the world for my pleasure,
Resolv'd to take nothing amiss,
And think my existence a treasure,
While blest with a cup and a kiss.

They surely are thick-headed asses,
Who know that youth's gone in a crack,
And will not enjoy as it passes
The season that never corner back:
Let time jog on slower or quicker,
Or whether we're silly or wise,
We shall not be the worse for good liquor,
Or the smile of a girl with black eyes.

NED oft' had brav'd the field of battle,
Had of't endur'd the hardest woe;
Had been where deep-mouth'd cannons rattle,
And oft' been captured by the foe:
His heart was kind, to fear a stranger,
Columbia's cause was his pride;
He nobly scorn'd to shrink from danger,
And on a bed of honor dy'd:
For, says N [...]d, whate'er befals,
An American scorns to whine,
He'll cheerful go where duty calls,
And brave all ills but ne'er repine.

[Page 95]
Ned lov'd sincere his charming Kitty,
She saw with tears her soldier go;
She pray'd kind heav'n to lend her pity,
And shield her Edward from the foe:
My love, he cry'd, thy grief give over,
Those tears disgrace a soldier's bride!
But hapless Kitty lost her lover,
Who on a bed of honor dy'd.
For, says Ned, &c.

ABSENCE

ALAS! they've torn my love away,
To range a foreign part;
May heav'n preserve him night and day,
And cheer his faithful heart:
But mine, alas! no joy can find,
Tho' jocund swains appear,
In vain they strive to ease my mind,
For Henry is not there.

How oft' beside the purling stream,
And often in the grove,
When shelter'd from the sultry beam,
He told his tender love:
Ah! then my heart was free from pain,
A stranger to all care;
But now all joy deserts the plain,
For Henry is not there.

Tho' absent from my charming youth,
My love is still the same;
May he return with equal truth,
And never rove again;
[Page 96]There happy in my rural cot,
I'll banish ev'ry fear,
Contented with my humble lot,
If Henry is but there.

THE eve her silver vestment wore;
And clos'd the sultry day,
The cottagers their toil forebore,
And homeward bent their way:

Save one poor maid, who, all forlorn,
The tear of sorrow shed,
Meek as the primrose 'neath the thorn,
That rears its modest head.

'Twas lovely Marian that sigh'd,
And mourn'd her sorrows free;
Since fate young Sandy's love deny'd,
And sent him far to sea:
Wide o'er the billows doom'd to roam,
He fled her longing arms,
And left his friends and native home,
To brave rude war's alarms.

Now three long months were gone and o'er,
When, ah! one fatal day,
As musing at her cottage door,
A sailor bent his way—
'Twas Sandy's friend, who sought the fair,
Sad tidings to relate:
For grief of heart, join'd with despair,
Had clos'd his hapless fate,

[Page 97]
Yet, 'ere he dy'd, her bliss he plann'd,
For all his little wealth,
He fondly left, with lavish hand,
To Marian herself:
But what avail'd the golden store,
Sweet peace her bosom fled:
He's gone, she cry'd, for evermore,
Then sighing join'd the dead.

WHITHER, my love, ah! whither art thou gone,
Let not thy absence cloud this happy dawn;
Say, by thy heart, shall falsehood e'er be known,
Ah! no, no, no, I judge it by own:
The heart he gave with so much care
Which shelter'd in my breast I wear,
Still for its master beats alone,
I'm sure the selfish thing's his own.

THE infant spring returns again,
The wild birds plume their wings,
To cheer the artless nymph and swain,
Hark how the woodland rings!
Now let me hail the breezy morn,
While music fills the vale;
And listen to the huntsman's horn,
Which echoes through the dale.

Beside the brook, or up the hill,
Or o'er the flowery lawn,
[Page 98]The lab'ring peasant trudges still,
At early peep of dawn:
Now let me hail, &c.

Let me enjoy the rural shade,
Where nature smiles around,
And ev'ry swain, and ev'ry maid,
With innocence is crown'd.
Now let me hail, &c.

LITTLE thinks the townsman's wife,
While at home she tarries,
What must be the lass's life,
Who a soldier marries:
Now with weary marching spent,
Dancing now before the tent,
Lira lira la, lira lira la,
With her jolly soldier.

In the camp at night she lies,
Wind and weather scorning,
Only griev'd her love must rise,
And quit her in the morning:
But the doubtful skirmish done,
Blithe she sings at setting sun,
Lira lira la, &c.

Should the Captain of her dear,
Use his vain endeavour,
(Whisp'ring nonsense in her ear,
Two fond hearts to fever:
[Page 99]At his passion she will scoff,
Laughing thus she puts him off,
Lira lira la, &c.

SWEET zephyr tho' 'midst rose-buds playing,
Or o'er the fragrant meadows straying,
Waft tidings of my absent swain,
Whether in woodlands wild a rover,
Or to some village maid a lover,
Soon, soon relieve sad Emma's pain:
But, oh, if death hath snatch'd his breath,
Ah! whisper,
Where lies his grave in vale or plain.

How oft' my Henry, all endearing,
Has charm'd my ear, all fondly hearing,
Whilom we view'd th' inconstant main:
He bade adieu—he saw my sorrow,
And cried, I'll hasten back to-morrow,
Yet he, alas! came not again:
But, oh! &c.

For Emma there no mortal knowing,
With silent step and eye o'erflowing,
At eve will steal to vent her pain;
'Till from her grief each nerve exhausting,
'Till her poor tender heart-strings bursting,
She dies to join her clay-cold swain.
Then, oh! &c.

LOVELY woman, pride of nature,
Good, and sweet, and kind, and fair,
[Page 100]Than man a higher stile or creature,
Perfect as celestials are:
See Myra come like stately Juno,
Ever fair and ever young,
Completely like, as I and you know,
For Myra like Juno has a tongue.

Young Celia's charms that beam so sweetly,
To paint, ah! what can words avail,
She's Venus's self, and so completely,
That Celia is, like Venus frail:
To woo the Charming Gloriana,
Audacity would stand afraid;
She, chaste and icy as Diana,
And, like Diana, an old maid.

Thus women boast a near relation,
'Tis plain to the celestial race;
Thus we, or their divine creation,
A family resemblance trace:
If then some faults of this complexion,
Like spots upon that sun, their fame,
Trust this same model of perfection,
The stars, not women, are to blame,

THO' late I was plump, round and jolly,
I now am as thin as a rod;
O, love is the cause of my folly,
I soon shall lie under a sod!
Sing natherum doodle, tragedy rum,
My didtherum boodle, figetty nigetty mum.

[Page 101]
Dear Kathlen, then, why did you flout me,
A lad that's so coysey and warm?
With ev'ry thing handsome about me,
My cabin and snug little farm.
Sing natherum doodle, &c.

What though I have scrap'd up no money,
No duns at my chamber attend;
On Sunday I ride on my poney,
And still have a bit for a friend.
Sing natherum doodle, &c.

The cock courts his hens all around me,
The sparrow, the pigeon, and dove;
Oh! how all this courting confounds me,
When I look and think of my love.
Sing natherum doodle, &c.

FAREWELL ye groves and chrystal fountains,
The gladsome plains and silent dell;
Ye humble vales and lofty mountains,
And welcome to a lonely cell:
And, oh! farewell, fond youth, most dear!
Thy tender plaint and vow sincere,
We'll meet and share the parting tear,
And take a long and last farewell.

WINDS, gently tell my love,
You have brought home his dove,
Say, poor Louisa now flies to her mate;
[Page 102]How smooth the ocean,
How swift our motion,
He was my haven and absence my fate:
Yet her lambs straying,
Thro' the meads playing,
Cropping wild flow'rs on the precipice brink;
Joys surrounding,
Sporting, bounding,
Ne'er on fond Phillis the wanton will think.

IF your lovers, maids, forsake you,
Would you pine and sigh, and die;
To your bed for grief betake you?
If you wou'd, so wou'd not I.

Wou'd you dress your head with willows,
Let your hair neglected fly;
Banish slumber from your pillows?
If you wou'd, so wou'd not I.

Should a faithless swain perplex you,
Then for one more worthy try;
Wou'd you let the false one vex you?
If you wou'd, so wou'd not I.

Men were sent I'm sure to please you,
Such their words their looks imply;
We were fools to let them teaze us;
If you will, so will not I.

[Page 103]

THE EARTHEN JUG.

OUR trade to work in clay began,
'Ere the first man was made,
For out of clay was made this man,
And thus began our trade:
Then friends put round the foaming mug,
And take it with good will;
Since man is but an earthen jug,
This jug then let us fill:
For how can he, ye wise ones say,
Return to dust, who wets his clay.

In this the Jemmy Cheapside buck
May take his orange shrub,
Or Fleet-Street Miss at Dog and Duck,
May quaff her syllabub:
Or jovial Jack, that jolly dog,
May treat his rosy wench,
And over this, when fill'd with grog,
Sing how he bang'd the French.
And how can he, &c.

See here a noble christ'ning bowl,
But fill it to the brim,
So large, the baby, pretty soul,
May like young Indian swim:
The Covent-Garden swell at Jupp's
In this may take his go;
For Astley's punch-house here are cups,
Pro bono publico.
And how can he, &c.

[Page 104]
The spacious bowl receives a crash,
And falls to china taws;
The toping tradesman gets a crash,
While white-wash fills his flaws:
Ye fair who leave fair virtue's track,
And wish it to regain,
If once the cup should get a crack,
Ye patch and paint in vain.
And how can he, &c.

And why abroad our money fling,
To please our fickle fair,
No more from China, china bring,
Here's English china-ware:
Then friends put round the foaming mug,
And take it with good will;
Since man is but an earthen jug,
This jug, then let us fill.
Then how can he, &c.

FROM whom I'm descended, or how I came here,
Are points on which heralds themselves are not clear,
Since, however, I mix with the mad sons of earth.
They cannot deny but I one time had birth.
If no annal, or chronicle, mentions my race,
Let the stupid historian feel the disgrace;
For unless, with great Ceasar, from Adam I came,
More wonderful still is my title to fame.
[Page 105]With this plea to origin—when I am gone,
They may deck me with trophies, or let it alone;
And if they embalm me, their zeal I'll forgive,
Only don't let them stint me in wine—while I live.

COME, courage, lads, and drink away,
A man upon his wedding day
Ought rarely well his part to play,
At Stingo or October:
For who would be that stupid elf,
For whim, caprice, or love, or pelf,
To poison, hang, or drown himself,
Or marry when he's sober?

For madam's will at nothing stops,
She must have balls, and routs, and fops,
And often ransacks all the shops,
In gay attire to robe her.
Then drink the day you take a wife,
As the last comfort of your life,
For, ever after, noise and strife
Are sure to keep you sober.

How pleasant a sailor's life passes,
Who roams o'er the watery main,
No treasure he ever amasses,
But cheerfully spends all his gain:
We're strangers to party and faction,
To honour and honesty true,

[Page 106]
And would not commit a base action,
For power and profit in view.
Then why should we quarrel for riches,
Or any such glittering toys?
A light heart and a thin pair of breeches,
Goes through the world my brave boys.

The world is a beautiful garden,
Enrich'd with the blessings of life,
The toiler with plenty rewarding,
But plenty too often breeds strife:
When terrible tempests assail us,
And mountainous billows affright,
No grandeur or wealth can avail us,
But skilful industry steers right.
Then why should we quarrel, &c.

The courtier's more subject to dangers,
Who rules at the helm of the state,
Than we, who to politics strangers,
Escape the snares laid for the great:
The various blessings of nature,
In various nations we try,
No mortals on earth can be greater,
Who merrily live 'till we die.
Then why should we quarrel, &c.

SONS of Bacchus lets be gay,
Nimbly move the cheerful glass;
Life is short and glides away,
Let it then in pleasure pass;
[Page 107]Phoebus now may hide his light,
Silver Cynthia cease to shine,
Bacchus' rays are far more bright,
Sparkling from the gen'rous wine.

When the nymph is coy and cold,
And puts on a scornful air,
Bacchus makes the lover bold,
Courage ever gains the fair:
While the fool who wastes his time,
Trifling o'er insipid tea,
Ne'er can aim at things sublime,
'Till he freely drinks like me.

TOBY PHILPOT.

DEAR Sir, this brown jug that now foams with mild ale,
(In which I will drink to sweet Kate of the vale)
Was once Toby Philpot, a thirsty old soul,
As e'er drank a bottle, or fathom'd a bowl;
In boozing about 'twas his praise to excel,
And among jolly topers he bore off the belle.

It chanc'd as in dog-days he sat at his ease,
In a flow'r-woven arbour as gay as you please,
With a friend and a pipe puffing sorrow away,
And with honest old stingo was soaking his clay,
His breath-doors of life on a sudden were shut,
And he died full as big at a Dorchester butt.

[Page 108]
His body, when long in the ground it had lain,
And time into clay had dissolv'd it again,
A potter found out in a covert so snug,
And with part of fat Toby he form'd this brown jug:
Now, sacred to friendship, to mirth, and mild ale,
I'll drink to my lovely sweet Kate of the vale.

OLD AGNES. (Sequel to Toby Philpot.)

My true honest fellows who smoke with such glee,
To beg your attention for once I make free,
And sing of our pipes, while thus merry and snug,
We soften our cares as we lighten our jug;
This jug which from Toby its origin boasts,
Old Toby, whose mem'ry enlivens the toast.

Toby's fame like his size, spread so great by his ale,
That for Agnes no room could be found in the tale,
Honest Agnes, the social support of his life,
Both for quaffing and size was well pair'd as his wife;
Therefore singing her praise, we with joy will regale,
Whilst our pipes and our jug give a zest to our ale.

[Page 109]
The potter, who shrewdly found Toby's re­mains,
Thought to visit again there might answer his pains,
Where, in brief, he found Agnes, whose death, as her life,
Made her qualify'd duly to lie as his wife:
Her fair fame all the village incessantly quote,
Whose Vicar the following epitaph wrote.

"Agnes Philpot, the wife of old Toby, re­nown'd,
"Who liv'd whilst on earth, now lies dead in this ground,
"The care of her grieving for Toby to bilk,
"She soften'd her sorrows with brandy and milk,
"Swoln with silky, she thriv'd 'till her skin gave a crack
"When death popping in laid her here on her back."

At these lines our good potter a happy thought started,
That Toby and Agnes should never be parted;
So he took of her clay which was white as her milk,
And temper'd with brandy 'till softer than silk,
Then forming these pipes, he advis'd sly and snug,
That we kiss her fair clay, and shake hands with his jug.

[Page 110]

NANCY; Or the Sailor's Journal.

'TWAS past meridian half past four,
By signal I from Nancy parted;
At six she linger'd on the shore,
With uplift hands, and broken hearted:

At seven, while taughtening the fore-stay,
I saw her faint, or else 'twas fancy;
At eight we all got under way,
And bid a long adieu to Nancy.

Night came on, and now eight bells had rung,
While careless sailors, ever cheary,
On the mid watch so jovial sung,
With tempers labour cannot weary.

I little to their mirth inclined,
While tender thoughts rush'd on my fancy,
And my warm sighs increas'd the wind.
Look'd on the moon, and thought of Nancy.

And now arriv'd that jovial night,
When ev'ry true bred tar carouses,
When, o'er the grog, all hands delight
To toast their sweethearts and their spouses.

Round went the can, the jest, the glee,
While tender wishes fill'd each fancy;
And when, in turn, it came to me,
I heav'd a sigh, and toasted Nancy.

[Page 111]

Next morn a storm came on at four,

At six, the elements in motion,

Plung'd me and three poor sailors more

Headlong within the foaming ocean.

Poor wretches! they soon found their graves,
For me, it may be only fancy,
But love seemed to forbid the waves
To snatch me from the arms of Nancy.

Scarce the foul hurricane was clear'd,
Scarce winds and waves had ceased to rattle,
When a bold enemy appear'd,
And, dauntless, we prepared for battle.

And now, while some lov'd friend or wife,
Like lightning, rush'd on every fancy,
To Providence I trusted life,
And put up a prayer, and thought on Nancy.

At last, 'twas in the month of May,
The crew, it being lovely weather,
At three, A. M. discovered day,
And England's chalky cliffs together.

At seven, up channel how we bore,
While hopes and fears rush'd on my fancy,
At twelve I gayly jumped ashore,
And to my throbbing heart press'd Nancy.

[Page 112]

THE DRUM.

COME each gallant lad,
Who for pleasure quits care,
To the drum, drum, drum, drum—
To the drum-head with spirit repair.

Each recruiter takes his glass,
And each young soldier with his lass;
While the drum beats tattoo—while, &c.
Retires the sweet night to pass.

Each night, gayly lad—
Thus we'll merrily waste,
'Till the drum, drum, drum, drum, &c.
'Till the drum tells us 'tis past.

Picquet arms at dawn now shine,
And each drum ruffles down, down the line,
Now the drum beats revelle, now the, &c.
Saluting the day divine.

But hark yonder shouts—
See that standard now alarms;
Now the drum, drum, drum, drum, &c.
Now the drum beats loudly to arms.

Kill'd and wounded how they lie!
Helter skelter, see them fly,
Now the drum beats-retreat, now, &c.
We'll fire a feu-de-joy.

[Page 113]

KNOWING JOE.

I WAS call'd knowing Joe by the boys of our town,
Old dad taught me wisely to know folk:
Cod! I was so sharp, when they laughing came down,
I ax't "How do'st do?" to the shew-folk:
I could chaunt a good slave that I know'd very well,
No boy of my age could talk louder!
Crack a joke, tip the wink, or a droll story tell;
Of my cleverness, too, none were prouder:
So, thinks I, it's better not following the plough,
To try with these youths, to queer low folk;
Their master I meet, so I made my best bow; ‘How do ye do, Sir? says I—I'ze a mighty notion of turning actor man—I be main lissome—boxes and wrestles vary pretty—dances a good jig— and can play—the very devil! [Spoken.]’
 [...]'d a place, and so join'd with the shew-folk.

The place that I'd got, I detarmin'd to keep,
But odzookers! they were all so drollish!
King's coblers, and taylors! a prince or a sweep!
And jaw'd so at I, I look'd foolish!
[Page 114]Their daggers and swords, cod! they handled so cute,
And their ladies were all so bewitching!
When I thought to be droll, I was always struck mute,
As the bacon rack hangs in our kitchen:
They ax'd me to say, how, "the coach was at the door,"
When were seated above and below folk!
Feggs! I was so shamefac'd, I flopp'd on the floor! ‘A kind of a sort of giddiness seiz'd me all over!— the candles danc'd the hays!—'twere us dimish as a Scotch mist!—I drop'd down dead as a shot! [Spoken.]’
And swounded away 'mong the Show-folk.

They laugh'd so, and jeer'd me, as never wur seen!
All manner of fancies were playing;
One night I was sent for to wait on a queen,
I believe it was queen Hamlet of Dunkirk!

(Not thinking the plan they were laying!
My lady she di'd on a chair next her spouse,
While with pins me behind they were pricking!
All at once I scream'd out! lent her grace such a douse!
That alive she was soon—aye, and—kick­ing!
The people all laugh'd at, and booted poor I,
[Page 115]And the comical dogs did me so jo [...]!
That I made but one step, without bidding good bye. ‘From their stage; cod! I never so much as once looked behind me!—tumbled over a barrel of thunder—knock'd down a hail storm—rolled over the sea—darted like lightning through the infernal regions. [Spoken.]’
And, so, I took my leave of the show-folk.

MODERN FASHIONS.

GOOD people all attend to me, I'll sing you a merry tale, sir,
About the various novelties, and titles that prevail, sir;
For now both lords and ladies that wear their hair or wigs, sir:
If they throw powder on their heads are call'd Guinea pigs, sir.
Squeak, squeak, squeak,
Pretty Guinea pigs, sir.

Then for the rest whose hungry maws a gui­nea can't afford, sir,
They are, by pride and folly's laws, call'd swine, upon my word, sir.
And if, to save appearances, they clip their hair awy, sir,
Why then we call them simple crops, and laugh at them all day, sir.
Ha! ha! ha!
A pretty herd of swine, sir,
Grunt, grunt, grunt.

[Page 116]
'Twas yesterday I saw a beau come tripping through a square, sir,
Two pounds of powder on his sconce, to hide his want of hair, sir,
He met a taylor on the road, a little dapper dog, sir,
And push'd him from him with disdain, cry­ing, "Surely, you're a hog, sir."
Hog, hog, hog,
A little dirty, hog, sir.

The taylor bristl'd up his locks, and snapt his shears in fury,
Saying, "tho' your tail is now so long, I'll warrant these shall cure ye,
To call a man like me a hog—a very pretty rig, sir,
You saucy snub-nos'd puppy dog—nay, hang me, you're a pig, sir,"
Pig, pig, pig,
A stupid long tail'd pig, sir.

The taylor flourishing his shears, then seized his tail so neatly,
That in a thrice he whipt it off, he dockt him most completely;
The beau stood trembling by his side, while stitch-louse▪ full of gig, sir,
Cry'd "smoke a beau who's lost his tail—a slump-tail'd guinea pig, sir,"
Crop, crop, crop,
A pig without a tail, sir.

[Page 117]
Then we have coats without the skirts, call'd spencers, by the mob, sir,
And hats with brims twelve inches round, to fit each kiddy's nob, sir;
Besides our ladies in their caps have feathers niddy noddy, sir,
And round their necks they wear cravats, and gowns without a body, sir.
Oh! Oh! oh!
Our ladies have no body, sir,
No, no, no.

Likewise our females on their heads, place turbans like a Turk, sir,
And golden chains hang down their breasts, of ornamental work, sir:
Those beauties they contrive to show, which poor men soon bewitches,
Indeed, I'm told it for a fact, they often wear the breeches.
Lack, lack, lack,
Women wear the breeches, sir.

Now prosper well my neighbours all, and let the fashions pass, sir,
May every one have health and strength, both pig and swinish class, sir,
Then let us always merry be, or hot or cold the weather,
And may we ever well agree, like loving pigs together.
Bow, wow, wow,
Fal de tidde, tidde, idde.

[Page 118]

THE HOBBIES. Written and Sung by Mr. Williamson.

ATTENTION pray give while of Hobbies I sing;
For each has his hobby, from cobler to king;
On some fav'rite Hobby we all get astride,
And when we're once mounted, full gallop we ride.
All on hobbies, all on hobbies,
All on hobbies, gee up, gee O.

Some hobbies are restive, and hard for to govern;
E'en just like our wives, they're so cursedly stubborn.
The hobbies of scolds are their husbands to teaze;
And the hobbies of lawyers are plenty of fees.
All on hobbies, &c.

The beaux; those sweet gentlemen's hobbies, good lack!
Is to wear great large poultices ty'd round the neck;
And they think in the ton and the tippey they're drest,
If they've breeches that reach from ankle to chest.
All on hobbies, &c.

The hobbies of sailors, when safe moor'd in port,
With their wives and their sweethearts, to toy and to sport.
[Page 119]When our navy's compleated, their hobby shall be,
To shew the whole world that America's free.
All on hobbies, &c.

The hobbies of soldiers in time of great wars.
Are breeches and battles, with blood, wounds and scars;
But in peace you'll observe that quite differ­ent their trade is:
The hobbies of soldiers, in peace, are the ladies.
All on hobbies, &c.

The ladies, sweet creatures! yes, they now and then,
Get astride of their hobbies, are just like the men:
With smiles and with simpers beguile us with ease;
And we gallop, trot, amble e'n just as they please.
All on hobbies, &c.

The Americans' hobby has long since been known:
No tyrant or king shall from them have a throne.
Their states are united—and let it be said,
Their hobby is WASHINGTON, peace and free trade.
All on hobbies, &c.

[Page 120]

MAJOR ANDRE'S SOLILOQUY.

RETURN ye raptur'd hours,
When Delia's heart was mine;
When she with wreaths of flow'rs,
My temples did entwine.

No jealousy nor care—
Corroded in my breast;
But visions light as air,
Presided o'er my rest.

But now around my couch,
No airy visions play;
No flowers deck my brow—
Each weary'd holiday.

For fa [...] from these sad plains,
The lovely Delia flies;
While wreck'd with jealous pains—
The wretched Andre—dies.

[The foregoing was written by Major Andre, while a prisoner in the American camp.]

'Twas in Edinborough town I first met the Lad.'Twas in Edinborough town
I met with a lad,
And they call'd him winsome Johnny O;
And he vow'd he'd give me
A braw new plaid,
For a kiss of my mou so bonny O,
My pretty little mou so bonny O.
[Page 121]No, in Edinborough town,
My winsome Lad,
 [...]ou shanna, says I, dear Johnny O:
Nor I will not take
Your braw new plaid
 [...]or a kiss of my mou so bonny O,
My pretty little mou so bonny O.
Then to Edinborough kirk
He press'd me to go,
Yes, the wily, winsome Johnny O;
And faith I could not
Answer him—No:
For he kiss'd my mou so bonny O,
My pretty little mou so bonny O.

THE GIPSEY.

COME hither, ye youths, and attend to my call:
I'm the poor little Gypsey that sings at Vaux­hall,
Who has cunning enough, if you cross but her hand,
To know whether Fate will obey her com­mand.
Then list to my call:
Whether sober or tipsey,
Attend to the Gypsey,
The poor little Gypsey that sings at Vauxhall.
Some youths who're in love, and can live on a sigh,
May be anxious to guess at their fair-one's re­ply:
If she shews her white teeth, and for ever is gay,
Love is sad, and you only are in a sad way.
[Page 122]You'll shortly sing small;
No longer, se ipse:
So mind you the Gypsey,
The poor little Gypsey that sings at Vauxhall.

The sweet little miss, just arriv'd at her teens,
Who cannot make out what the gentleman means,
Begs teacher to suffer her lot may be told her,
Whether, husband and coach, as in time she grows older.
Then come to my call,
So frisky and whip-se;
And mind you the Gypsey,
The poor little Gypsey that sings at Vauxhall.

Would you all wish to know the fortune of all?
Here come to my levee at merry Vauxhall,
Where cross Gypsey's hand with a small bit of stuff,
No man but shall say, I give blessings enough.
Then be blest one and all:
Either sober or tipsey,
Remember the Gypsey,
The poor little Gypsey that sings at Vauxhall.

MY BONNY JOE IS GONE TO SEA.

In vain the broom blooms fresh and gay,
No joy the spring affords to me:
My love is gone, ah, well-a-day!
My bonny Joe is gone to sea.

[Page 123]

The lad was nature's pride and boast,

But fortune smil'd not at his birth;

My cruel dad our love has cross'd;

He knew not half my sailor's worth.

Dear lass, he cry'd, more wealth to gain,
I leave my love awhile to mourn;
But bright is pleasure after pain,
And blest we'll be when I return.

The hour is near, so blithe and gay,
That brings my Joe to love and me;
No more I'll cry, Ah, well-a-day!
When my dear Joe returns from sea.

THE TEMPEST.

CEASE, rude boreas, boisterous railer,
List ye landsmen all to me;
Messmates hear a brother sailor
Sing the dangers of the sea.

From bounding billows first in motion,
Where the distant whirlwinds rise,
To the tempest troubled ocean,
Where the seas contend with skies.

Hark, the boatswain hoarsly bawling,
By top-sail sheets and halliyards stand:
Down your stay-sails quick be hauling,
Your top-gallant-sails hand boys hand.

[Page 124]

Still it freshens, set in the braces,

Close reef, top-sail sheets let go;

Luff boys, luff, don't make wry faces,

Up your top-sails nimbly clew.

The top-sail yards point to the wind boys,
See all clear to reef each course;
Let the fore-sheet go, don't mind it,
If the weather should turn worse.

Fore and aft the sprit-sail yard get,
Reef the mizen, see I clear;
Hand up the preventer braces,
Man the fore-yard, cheer boys, cheer.

Now all ye on down-beds sporting,
Fondly lock'd in beauty's arms,
Fresh enjoyments wanton courting,
Start from all but love's alarms.

Around us roars the tempest louder,
Thinking what fear our heart enthralls,
Harder yet, it still blows harder,
Now again the boatswain calls.

Now the thunder's dreadful roaring,
Peal on peal contending clash;
On our heads fresh rains fast pouring,
In our eyes blue lightnings flash.

All around us one wide water,
All above us one black sky;
Different deaths at once surprize us,
Hark! what means the dreadful cry?

[Page 125]

The fore-mast's gone, cries ev'ry tongue out;

Over the lee, twelve feet above deck;

A leak beneath the chesstree sprang out,

Call all hands and clear the wreck.

Quick the lanyards cut to pieces,
Come my hearts, be stout and bold:
Plumb the well, for the leak increases,
Four feet of water in the hold.

Whilst over the waves our ship is beating,
We all for wives and sweethearts mourn;
Alas! from hence there is no retreating,
Alas! from hence there is no return.

Still the leak is gaining on us,
Both chain-pumps are choak'd below;
Heaven have mercy here upon us,
For only that will save us now.

Over the lee beam lies the land, boys,
Let the guns be over-board thrown;
To the pumps come every hand, boys,
See—our mizen-mast is gone.

But the leak we find it cannot pour fast,
We have lighted her a foot or more;
Up and rig a jury fore-mast,
She's right, she's right, we are all off shore.

Now once more on joys be thinking,
Since kind fortune sav'd our lives;
Push the can boys, let's be drinking,
To our sweethearts and our wives.

[Page 126]

Push it round, about ship wheel it,

To your lips a bumper join;

Where's the tempest now, who feels it?

Now our danger's drown'd in wine.

LITTLE FARTHING RUSH LIGHT.

SIR Solo [...] Simons, when he did wed,
Blush'd as  [...]ck as crow—his fair lady did blush white;
Past twelve o'clock, they were both tuckt a bed:
In the chimney a rush light, a little farthing rush light.
Fal de dal, de day.

Sir Solomon gave his lady a  [...]udge—
Lady Simons, says he, I think there is too much light:
Sir Solomon says to her, get up you, an old grudge,
And puff at the rush light, little farthing rush light.

Sir Solomon out of bed then pops his toes,
And very much did sware, and very much did curse light;
And then to the chimney, Sir Solomon he goes;
He puff'd at the rush light, little farthing rush light.

[Page 127]

But Solomon himself cou'd not blow it out;

He call'd all his servants, and they all try'd their might;

But they altogether cou'd not put it out,

Tho' they puff'd at the rush light, little farthing rush light.

At last the watchmen went by crying—one!
These watchmen came up, and the business was done;
For they turn'd down the rush light, little farthing rush light;
They turn'd down the rush light, little farthing rush light.
Fal de dal, de day.

SHAKESPEARE'S SEVEN AGES PARAPHRASED.

OUR immortal poet's page
Says, that all the world's a stage,
And that men, with all their airs,
Are nothing more than players:
Each using skill and art,
In his turn to tap his part,
All to fill up this farcical scene, O.
Enter here,
Exit there,
Stand in view,
Mind your cue.
High down, ho down, derry, derry down.
All to fill up this farcical scene, O.

[Page 128]
First the infant in the lap,
Mewling, pewling with its pap,
Like a chicken that we truss,
Is swaddled by its nurse,
Who to please the puppet tries,
As it giggles, and it cries.
All to fill up this farcical scene, O.
Hush a-bye,
Wipe an eye,
Kisse pretty,
Suck a tetty.
High down, ho down, derry, derry down,
All to fill up this farcical scene, O.

Then the pretty babe of grace,
With his shining morning face,
And satchel on his back,
To school, alas! must pack;
But like a snail he creeps,
And for bloody monday weeps.
All to fill, &c.
Book mislaid,
Truant play'd,
Rod in pickle,
Rump to tickle.
High down, ho down, &c.

Then the lover next appears,
Sous'd over head and ears,
Like a lobster on the fire,
Sighing ready to expire;
With a deep hole in his heart,
Through you may drive a cart.
All to fill up, &c.
[Page 129]Beauty spurns him;
Passion burns him,
Like a wizard,
Gutts and gizzard.
High down, ho down, &c.

Then the soldier, ripe for plunder,
Breathing slaughter, blood and thunder.
Like a cat among the mice,
Kicks a dust up in a trice;
And talks of shatter'd brains,
Scatter'd limbs and streaming veins.
All to fill up, &c.

Fight or fly,
Run or die,
Pop and pelter,
Helter, skelter.
High down, ho down, &c.

Then the justice in his chair,
With broad and vacant stare;
His wig of formal cut,
And belly like a butt;
Well lined with turtle hash,
Calipe—and calipash.
All to fill up, &c.

Baud and tru [...],
Pimp or cull,
At his nod,
Go to qu [...]d.
High down, ho down, &c.

[Page 130]
Then the slipper'd pantaloon,
In life's dull afternoon;
With spectacles on nose,
Shrunk shank in youthful hose:
His voice once big and round,
Now whistling in the sound.
All to fill up, &c.

Body bent,
Vigour spent,
Shaking noddle,
Widdle, waddle,
High down, ho down, &c.

At last to end the play,
Second childhood leads the way,
And like sheep that's got the rot,
All our sense go to pot.
So death among us pops,
And down the curtain drops.
All  [...]  [...]ll up, &c.

Then the coffin,
We move off in,
While the bell
Tolls the knell.
Of high, and low, down into the cold ground
All to finish this farcical scene, O.

FRESH AND STRONG.

FRESH and strong the breeze is blowing,
As yon ship at anchor rides;
[Page 131]Sullen waves incessant slowing,
Rudely dash against its sides.

So my heart its course impeded,
Beats in my disturbed breast;
Doubts, like waves, by waves succeeded,
Rise, and still deny its rest.

THE MULBERRY TREE.

The sweet briar grows in the merry green wood,
Where the musk rose diffuses its perfume so free;
But the blight often seizes both blossom and bud,
While the mildew flies over the mulberry-tree.

In the nursery rear'd like the young tender vine,
Mankind of all orders. and ev'ry degree,
First crawl on the ground, then spring up like the pine,
And some branch and bear fruit, like the mulberry-tree.

To the fair tree of knowledge some twine like a twig,
While some sappy sprouts with their fruits disagree;
For which we from birch now and then pluck a twig,
Which is not quite so sweet as the mulberry-tree.

[Page 132]

The vast tree of life we all eagerly climb,

And impatiently pant at its high top to be,

Tho' nine out of ten are lopp'd off in their prime,

And they drop like dead leaves from the mulberry-tree.

Some live by the leaf, and some live the bow,
As the song or the dance, their vocation may be,
And some live and thrive, tho' we know no more how,
Than the dew that flies over the mulberry-tree.

But like weeping willows we hang down the head.
When poor wither'd elders were distin'd to be,
And we're minded no more than mere logs when we're dead,
Or the dew that flies over the mulberry-tree.

Yet like lignum [...] itae we hearts of oak wear,
Or the cedar that keeps from the canker-worm free,
While the vine juice we drain to dissolve ev'ry care,
Like the dew that flies over the mulberry-tree.

THE COLUMBIAN HERO.A SOLDIER is the noblest name,
Enroll'd upon the lists of fame,
His country's pride and boast;
[Page 133]Honour the glorious bright reward,
For which the hero draws his sword,
Should ne'er be stain'd or lost.
To guard her rights and liberties,
His duty and his care;
The brave and worthy to respect,
And to the verge of life protect
The innocent and fair.
When glory sent her legions forth,
Her influence spread from south to north,
There freedom soon appear'd.
'Twas there she found her fav'rite SON,
Thro' all the world his name is known,
Thro' all the world rever'd;
When smiling, thus the Goddess spoke,
"Columbia's sons draw near;
"A soldier's duty ne'er forget,
"Behold the great example set,
"The school of honour here."

We Soldiers Drink, We Soldiers Sing.

WE soldiers drink, we soldiers sing;
We fight our foes, and love our king,
Are ever brisk and jolly;
We know no care in peace or war;
We ask no wealth but fame and health,
A knapsack and a Dolly.

When mirth invites, we seldom think;
When honour calls, we never shrink;
But scorning melancholy,
[Page 134]Alert and gay, we march away
To foreign parts with cheerful hearts,
A knapsack and a Dolly.

If doom'd to fall, the good and brave
Will dew with tears their soldiers grave.
Thus sadness is a folly;
His dauntless sword fame will record,
His comrade dear will prize and cheer,
His knapsack and his Dolly.

Then come, my noble heroes, come,
With sprightly fife and echoing drum,
With minds elate and jolly;
Let's take the field, nor ever yield
To fortunes frowns, 'till conquest crowns
Our knapsack and our Dolly.

'TIS NO FAULT OF MINE.

YOUNG Damon has woo'd me a monstrou [...] long time;
I dare say 'tis a twelvemonth at least;
But courtship's so pleasant, when youth's i [...] its prime,
The date of it cannot be guess'd.
Oh, how I did laugh when I thought I could vex,
Or cause him in anguish to pine!
Indeed 'tis the fashion with all our kind sex,
So you you know it is no fault of mine.

[Page 135]
The more constant he grew, the more flippant was I;
In his sighs I enjoy'd fresh delight;
When he ask'd for a kiss, though I long'd to comply,
Yet I tortur'd myself out of spite;
When he found me resolv'd all his hopes to perplex,
He forsook me, and left me to pine,
Indeed 'tis the fashion with that cruel sex;
So you know it was no fault of mine.

How short were the moments when Damon was near!
Now each minute's as long as a day,
And winter's dark mantle envelopes the year,
Tho' then ev'ry season was May,
I'll seek the dear youth, and heal the keen smart,
Declare I to pity incline;
If then he refuses my hand and my heart,
Why, you know 'twill be no fault of mine.

HITHER, MARY, HITHER COME.

HITHER, Mary, hither come,
And taste with me the vernal bloom;
Here the fragrant hawthorn blows,
Here blooms the pink and blushing rose▪
Hither, come, with me to prove
The sweet delights of mutual love.

[Page 136]
Hither Mary, hither, come,
And make this bow' [...] thy peaceful home;
Taste the bliss of rural case,
Ma [...]chiefs joys of love and peace,
Hither, come, with me to prove
The sweet delights of mutual love.

Hither, Mary, hither, come;
No longer from thy lover roam;
Th [...]se delights come share with me;
Nature smiles to welcome thee:
Hither, come, with me to  [...]rove
The sweet delights of mutual love.

How stands the glass around?
For shame, ye take no care, my boys,
How stands the glass round?
Let mirth and wine abound.
The trumpets sound;
The colours they are flying boys.
To fight, kill, or wound,
May we still be found.
Content with our ha [...]d  [...]ate, my boys,
On the cold ground.

Why, soldiers, why,
Should we be melancholy, boys?
Why, soldiers, why,
Whose bus'ness 'tis to die!
What sighing, fie!
Drown fear, drink on, be jolly boys,
[Page 137]'Tis he, you or I!
Cold, hot, wet or dry,
We're always bound to follow, boys,
And scorn to fly!

'Tis but in vain,—
I mean not to upraid ye, boys,
'Tis but in vain,—
For soldiers to complain.
Shou [...]d next campaign
Send us to him who made us, boys,
We're free from pain!
But if we remain,
A bottle and kind landlady
Cure all again.

GALLANTS attend, and hear a friend,
Trill forth harmonious ditty:
Strange things I'll tell, which late befel
In Philadelphia city.

'Twas early day, as poets say,
Just when the sun was rising,
A soldier stood, on log of wood,
And saw a sight surprising.

As in a maze, he stood to gaze,
The truth can't he deni'd, sir,
He spy'd a score—of kegs or more,
Come floating down the tide, sir.

A sailor too, in jerkin blue,
The strange appearance viewing,
[Page 138]First damn'd his eyes, in great surprise,
Then said—some mischiefs brewing.

These Kegs now hold the rebels bold,
Pack'd up like pickled herring:
And they're come down t'attack the town
In this new way of ferrying.

The soldier flew, the sailor too,
And, scar'd almost to death, sir,
Wore out their shoes, to spread the news,
And ran till out of breath, sir.

Now up and down, throughout the town,
Most frantic scenes were acted;
And some ran here, and some ran there
Like men almost distracted.

Some fire cry'd, which some deny'd,
But said t [...]e earth had quaked:
And girls and boys, with hideous noise,
Ran through the town half naked.

Sir William he, snug as a flea,
Lay all this time a snoring,
Nor dreamt of harm, as he lay warm
In bed with Mrs. L—g.

Now in affright, he starts upright,
Awak'd by such a clatter:
He rub [...] both eyes, and boldly cries,
"For God's sake what's the matter?"

At his bed side, he then espy'd
Sir Erskine at command, sir,
Upon on [...] foot he had one boot,
And t'other in his hand, sir.

[Page 139]

Arise! Arise! Sir Erskine cries:

The rebels—more's the pity—

Without a boat are all on float,

And rang'd before the city.

The motly crew, in vessels new,
With Satan for their guide, sir,
Pack'd up in bags, or wooden KEGS,
Come driving down the tide; sir.

Therefore prepare for bloody war;
These KEGS must all be routed;
Or surely we despis'd shall be;
And British courage doubted.

The royal band now ready stand,
All rang'd in dread array, sir,
With stomach stout, to see it out,
And make a bloody day, sir.

The cannons roar, from shore to shore:
The small arms make a rattle:
Since wars began, I'm sure no man
E'er saw so strange a battle.

The rebel vales, the rebel dales,
With rebel trees surrounded,
The distant woods, he hills, and floods,
With rebel-echoes sounded.

The fish below swam to and fro,
Attack'd from ev'ry quarter:
Why sure, thought they, the devil's to pay,
'Mongst folks above the water.

[Page 140]

The KEGS, 'tis said, tho' strongly made,

Of rebel staves and hoops, sir,

Could not oppose their pow'rful foes,

The conq'ring British troops, sir.

From morn to night these men of might
Display'd amazing courage;
And when the sun was fairly down,
Retir'd to sup their porridge.

An hundred men, with each a pen,
Or more, upon my word, sir,
It is most true, would be too low
Their valour to record, sir.

Such feats did they perform that day,
Upon these wicked KEGS, sir;
That years to come if they get home,
They'll make their boasts and brags, sir.

POOR JACK.

Go, patter to lubbers and swabs, d'ye see,
'Bout danger, and fear, and the like;
A tight water boat, and good sea room give me,
And t'ent to a little I'll strike.

Though the tempest top gallant masts smack smooth should smite,
And shiver each splinter of wood,
Clear the wreck, stow the yards, and bowse every thing tight,
And under reel'd foresail we'll scud.

[Page 141]

A vast, nor don't think me a milk sop so soft,

To be taken for trifles aback;

For they say there's a Providence sits up aloft,

To keep watch for the life of Poor Jack.

Why, I heard our good chaplain palaver one day,
About souls, heaven, mercy and such;
And, my timbers, what lingo he'd coil and belay!
Why, 'twas just all as one as High Dutch.

But he said how a sparrow can't founder, d'ye see,
Without orders that comes down below,
And many fine things that prov'd clearly to me
That Providence takes us in tow.

For says he, do you mind me, let storms e'er so oft
Take the top sails of sailors aback:
There's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft,
To keep watch for the life of poor Jack.

I said to our Poll, (for, d'ye see, she would cry)
When last we weigh'd anchor for sea,
What argusies sniv'ling, and piping your eye?
Why, what a damn'd fool you must be!

Can't you see the world's, wide, and there's room for us all,
Both for seamen and lubbers ashore;
[Page 142]And if to Old Davy I should go, friend Poll,
Why you never will hear of me more.

What then? all's a hazard—come don't be so soft;
Perhaps I may laughing come back?
For dye see, there's a cherub fits smiling aloft,
To keep watch for the life of Poor Jack.

D'ye mind me, a sailor should be every inch
All as one as a pirce of his ship;
And with her brave the world, without off'­ring to flinch,
From the moment the anchor's a trip.

As for me, in all weathers, all times, sides and ends,
Nought's a trouble my duty elates;
For my heart is my Poll's, aod my rino's my friends;
And, as for my life, 'tis the State's,

E'en when my time comes, ne'er believe me soft,
As with grief to be taken aback;
That same little cherub that sits up aloft,
Will look, out a good birth for Poor Jack.

WHILE HIGH THE FOAMING SURGES RISE.

WHILE high the foaming surges rise,
And pointed rocks appear,
[Page 143]Loud thunders rattle in the sk [...]s,
Yet sailors must not fear,
In storms, in wind,
Their duty mind,
Aloft, below,
They cheerful go;
To reef or steer, as 'tis designed,
No fears or dangers, fills the mind.

The signal for the line is made,
The haughty foe's in sight;
The bloody flag aloft display'd,
And fierce the dreadful fight.
Each minds his gun,
No dangers shun:
Aloft, below,
They cheerful go:
Though thunders roar, yet still we find,
No fears alarm the sailor's mind.
The storm is hush'd, the battle's o'er,
The sky is clear again:
We toss the cann to those on shore,
While we are on the main.
To Poll and S [...]e,
Sincere and true,
The grog goes round.
With pleasure crown'd.
In war or peace, alike you'll find,
That honour fills the sailor's mind.

FICKLE bliss, fantastic treasure,
Love, how soon thy joys are past,
[Page 144]Since we soon must lose the pleasure,
Oh! 'twere better ne'er to taste.
Fickle bliss, &c.

Cruel thoughts, that pain, yet please me
Ah! no more my rest destroy;
Shew me still, if you would ease me,
Love's deceit, but not its joy.
Fickle bliss, &c.

Gods! what kind yet cruel powers
Force my will to rack my mind!
Ah, too long we wait for flowers,
Soon, too soon to fade design'd.
Fickle bliss, &c.

HEAR me, gallant sailor hear me:
While your country has a foe,
He is mine too, never fear me;
I may weep, but you shall go.

Though the flow'ry season woos you
To the peaceful sports of May,
And Love sighs so long to lose you,
Love to glory must give way.

Can Columbia's sons e'er fail her,
While her daughters are so true?
Your soft courage must avail her,
We love honour loving you.

War and danger now invite us:
Blow, ye winds auspicious blow▪
Ev'ry gale will most delight us,
That can waft us to the foe.

[Page 145]

COME CHEER UP MY LADS.

COME, cheer up, in lads, 'tis to glory we steer,
To add something new to this wonderful year;
To honour we call you, not press you like slav [...]s;
For who are so free, as we sons of the waves?

Heart of oak are our ships, heart of oak are our men,
We always are ready,
Steady bo [...]s steady;
We'll fight and we'll conquer again, and again.

We ne'er see our foes, but we wish them to stay;
They never see us, but they wish us away;
If they run, why we follow and run them ashore,
For if they wont fight us, we cannot do more.
Heart of oak are our ships, &c.

They swear they'll invade us, these terrible foes,
They'll frighten our women, and children and beaus,
But should their flat bottoms in darkness get o'er,
Americans they'll find to receive them ashore.
Heart of oak are our ships, &c.

We'll still make them run, and we'll still make them sweat,
In spite of the devil, and Bache's gazette;
[Page 146]Then cheer up, my lads, and be this your to aft
A WASHINGTON and ADAMS while time shall last.
Heart of oak are our ships, &c.

O WHAT joys does conquest yield,
When returning from the field,
Shining in his glitt'ring arms,
How the godlike warrior charms.

Laurel wreaths his head surrounding,
Banners waving in the wind,
Fame her golden trumpet sounding,
Every voice in concert join'd.

PATTERN OF CHIEFS. On the BIRTH of GEORGE WASHINGTON, Commander in Chie [...] of the American forces.

HAIL godlike Washington!
Fair freedom's chosen son,
Born to command:
While this great globe shall roll,
Thy deeds from pole to pole,
Shall shake Columbia's soul
With virtuous praise.
Millions un [...]orn to save,
Freedom to world [...] he gave,
Liberty's Chief!
Terrific God of war,
Scated in vict'ry's ca [...],
Fame hails him from afar,
Virginia's boast.

[Page 147]
Flowrets of bliss adorn
The bright auspicious morn,
Breathing delight.
Let the loud cannon roar,
Joyful, from shore to shore;
Phoebus did ne'er explore,
So happy a day:
Millions unborn to save, &c.

When Freedom's atmosphere,
Clouded with gloomy care
Washington view'd:
He with heroic pride,
Stemm'd dire oppression's tide,
And made the world deride
Britain's disgrace
Millions unborn to save, &c.

When Howe with venal bands,
Delug'd our pensive lands,
Britain's weak rod!
Fabius by wise delays,
Liberty's cause to raise,
To his immortal praise,
Trenton subdu'd.
Millions unborn to save, &c.

Fayette, the just and good,
Spilt Gallia's noble blood
For the distress'd:
May this auspicious day,
[Page 148]Gratitude's tribute pay,
And breath a joyous lay,
Sacred to him.
Millions unborn to save, &c.

See gallant Rochambeau!
Tyranny's deadly foe,
Liberty's shield:
Victory draws her sword
To capture the warlike lord,
Whom parliament ador'd
Britnnia's pride.
Millions unborn to save, &c.

Now Albion's sons are fled,
Liberty rears her head,
Smiling in scorn.
Way her great hero's name,
Fill the loud trump of fame
And ages unborn proclaim,
Great Washington.
Millions unborn to save, &c.

Next in our theme shall be,
Prince of philosophy,
Frank in the sage:
Who gave to light'ning laws,
Taught from effects  [...] cause,
What fire etherial was:
Of wisdom the chief.
Millions unborn to save, &c.

The god [...]ess of peace to come,
Lighting with downy plume
[Page 149]On freedom's shrine:
She from fell tyranny,
Wrested fair liberty,
And bid a world be free,
Through Washington.
Millions unborn to save, &c.

Commerce unfurls her sails,
Wafted by gentle gales,
Over the deep:
And in her smiling train,
Brings in her pleasing gain,
And from the wealthy main,
Hails freedom's gifts.
Millions, unborn to save, &c.

Ambition's storm that blows,
Ruffles not his repose,
Blest in retreat:
Wisdom persuasive flows,
Virtue refulgent glows,
In speech and act he shews
Friendship and truth:
Millions unborn to save, &c.

Guardian of civil laws,
Saviour of freedom's cause,
Washington stands:
May his light spirit fly,
And claim its native sky,
Free from each earthly sigh,
To HEAVEN ascend.
Millions unborn to save, &c.

[Page 150]
WHO'D know the sweets of liberty?
'Tis to climb the mountain's brow:
Thence to discern rough industry
At the harrow or the plough:
'Tis where my sons their crops have sown,
Calling the harvest all their own.

'Tis where the heart to truth ally'd,
Never felt unmanly fear;
'Tis where the eye, with milder pride,
Nobly sheds sweet pity's tear,
Such as America now does see,
These are the sweets of liberty.

ADAMS AND LIBERTY. The Boston Patriotic Song, Composed by Thomas Paine, A. M. Tune-"To Anacreon in Heaven."

YE Sons of Columbia, who bravely have fought,
For those rights, which unstain'd from your sires had descended,
May you long taste the blessings your valor has bought,
And your sons reap the soil which their fathers defended!
Mid the reign of mild peace,
[Page 151]May your nation increase,
With the glory of Rome, and the wisdom of Greece.

CHORUS.

And no Son of COLUMBIA shall e'er be a slave,

While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls a wave.

In a clime, whose rich vales feed the marts of the world,
Whose shores are unshaken by Europe's commotion.
The trident of Commerce should never be hurl'd,
To incense the legitimate powers of the ocean.
But should Pirates invade,
Tho' in thunder array'd,
Let your cannon declare the free charter of trade.
For no Son, &c.

The fame of our ARMS—of our LAWS the mild sway,
Had justly ennobled our nation in story,
Till the dark cloud of faction obscur'd our young day,
And envelop'd the sun of American glory.
But let TRAITORS be told,
Who their country have sold,
And bartered their GOD, for his image in Gold,
That no Son, &c.

[Page 152]
While France her huge limbs bathes recum­bent in blood,
And society's base threats with wide disso­lution;
May Peace, like the Dove, who return'd from the flood,
Find an Ark of abode in our mild Consititu­tion.
But tho' PEACE is our aim,
Yet the boo [...] we disclaim,
If bought by our Sov'reignty, Justice, or Fame.
For no Son, &c.

'Tis the fire of the FLINT each American warms,
Let Rome's haughty victors beware of collision;
Let them bring all the vassals of Eu [...]ope in arms,
We're a world by ourselves, and disdain a di­vision.
While with Patriot pride,
To our laws we're allied,
No foe can subdue us, no faction divide.
For no Son, &c.

Our mountains are crown'd with imperial oak;
Whose roots, like our liberties, ages have nourish'd;
But long ere our nation submits to the yoke,
Not a tree shall be left on the field, where it flourish'd.
Should invasion impend,
[Page 153]Every grove would descend,
From the hill-tops they shaded, our shores to defend;
For no Son, &c.

Let our Patriots destroy Anarch's pestilent worm,
Lest our liberty's growth should be check'd by corrosion;
Then let clouds thicken round us; we heed not the storm;
Our rea [...]m fears no shock, but the earth's own explosion.
Foes assail us in vain,
Tho' their fleets bridge the main,
For our altars and laws with our lives we'll maintain,
For no Son, &c.

Should the tempest of war overshadow our land,
Its bolts could ne'er rend FREEDOM's Temple asunder;
For unmov'd, at its portal, would WASHING­TON stand,
And repulse with his breast, the assaults of the thunder.
His sword, from the sl [...]p
Of its sc [...]bbard, wo [...]  [...]op,
And conduct, with its point, every flash to the d [...]p:
For no Son, &c.

[Page 154]
Let Fame to the world sound America's voice;
No intrigue can her Sons from their Govern­ment sever;
Her pride is her ADAMS; his laws are her choice;
And shall flourish, till LIBERTY slumbers forever!
Then UNITE heart and hand,
Like Leonidas' band,
And swear to the GOD of the Ocean and Land,
That no Son, &c.

RISE COLUMBIA. By the same.

WHEN first the sun o'er ocean glow'd,
And earth unveil'd her virgin breast,
Supreme mid nature's vast abode,
Was hear'd th' Almighty's dread behest.
Rise Columbia, brave and free,
Poise the globe, and bound the sea.

In darkness wrapp'd, with fetters chain'd,
Will ages grope, debas'd and blind,
With blood the human hand be stain'd—
With tyrant power, the human mind.
Rise Columbia, &c.

But lo! across th' Atlantic floods,
The star-directed pilgrim sails;
See! fell'd by commerce, float thy woods;
And cloth'd by Ceres, wave thy vales!
Rise Columbia, &c.

[Page 155]
In vain shall thrones, in arm, combin'd,
The sacred rights I gave oppose;
In thee, th' asylum of mankind,
Shall welcome nations find repose.
Rise Columbia, &c.

Nor yet, though skill'd, delight in arms,
Peace and her offspring arts, be thine;
The face of Freedom scarce has charms,
When on her cheeks no dimples shine.
Rise Columbia, &c.

While fame, for thee, her wreath entwines,
To bless, thy nobler triumph prove;
And though the EAGLE haunts thy pines,
Beneath thy willows shield the DOVE.
Rise Columbia, &c.

When bolts the flame, or whelms the wave,
Be thine, to rule the wayward hour—
Did DEATH unbar the watery grave,
And VULCAN yield to NEPTUNE's power.
Rise Columbia, &c.

Rever'd in arms, in peace humane—
No shore, nor realm shall bound thy sway,
While all the virtues own thy reign;
And subject elements obey!
Rise Columbia, &c.

TOUGH TIMES.

 [...]HERE's Ichabod has come to town
 [...]rom Philadelphia city,
[Page 156]He's stroll'd the streets all up and down
And brought nice tales to fit ye.
He's been among the peoplish  [...]olks
And vows they're rotten clever,
They talk so 'cute and crack such jokes
Would make one stare forever,
Yanker doodle, doodle doo,
Yankee doodle dandy.
When times run tough the heart that's true,
Is sweet as lasses candy.

Some say you lie—then order cry—
Some spit, some notions eating—
Some move—some sit as mute and sly
As chairmen at town-meeting.
Some talk like Yes—and come out No—
Some laugh at French invasion;
But in a little while or so,
We'll see what's the occasion.
Yankee doodle &c.

Yet we'll love Yankee land the best,
Stand by her stout as stingo,
Tho' sorely stump'd with such a pest
As folks with foreign lingo.
They rage for peace who once croak'd war,
And make tarnation wonder,
Because no longer we can bear
Our Friend, should rob and plunder.
Yankee doodle, &c.

There's some count cost with swamping rant,
These crawl that they may clamber,
And ring the room with peoplish cant,
Tho' big as our barn-chamber.
[Page 157]To spare some cents they twist and turn,
Tho' fleets and armies crave them,
And should our towns be like to burn,
They can't afford to save them.
Yankee doodle, &c.

For time some talk—and some for spite—
They wince and growl when ground hard,
And hobble when they must go right,
Like our old Ball that's founder'd.
Tho' some be weak, yet more are strong
As flip with rum and cyder,
And if they all can get along,
Our ship—why let 'em guide her.
Yankee doodle, &c.

If something's wrong, there's more that's right,
The leaks will soon be spied out,
And with our vessel staunch and tight,
The gale we'll scud or ride out.
Our Yankee Chief shall con our course,
Tho' foes may gibe or 'rate him,
 [...]nd while he steady keeps—the worse
The sarpents hiss and hate him.
Yankee doodle, &c.

 [...]w our envoy sound and true,
Who left the Cite a fro [...]hing,
And is among the nation few
One likes—for doing nothing;
If nothing 'tis 'assert our right,
When hollow friends would shake it,
And bring the old sarpent's schemes to light,
Nor give a bribe, nor take it.
Yankee doodle, &c.

[Page 158]
He tells us of our Talyrand,
Who strove to hum and fob us;
And if we'd give our purse, and stand—
Mayhap—they would not rob us.
But let us all now tackle to,
And join all hands at muster;
We'll keep our cash to fight the crew,
Nor fear their threats or bluster.
Yankee doodle, &c.

Let's all with honest heart and soul,
At soldiers trade be handy:
Curse Ca Ira and Carmagnole,
And march to Doodle Dandy;
Then let them come, with force or hum,
If they'll fight fair we'll beat 'm:
And for their "Skill" and tricks—but num
By zounds—we've folks can cheat 'm.
Yankee doodle, &c.

Our tried old chief is coming forth,
Again to lead and save us;
Again to shew his strength and worth,
When foes insult and brave us;
Our Nation's boast—his name a host;
Let foes and traitors fear him;
Be WASHINGTON each patriot's toast:
Then rise to hail and cheer him.
Yankee doodle, doodle doo, &c.

[Page 159]

HARVARD PATRIOTIC ODE. Tune, "Rule Britannia."

WHILE discord's bloody flag unfurl'd,
O'er Europe, war his torrent pours,
Rolls vollied thunder round the world,
From Boreal climes to India's shores.
Rise, united, Harvard's band,
Rise, the bulwark of our land.

Shall Gallia's clan our coast invade,
With hellish outrage scourage the main,
Insult our nation's neutral trade,
And we not dare our rights maintain?
Rise, &c.

What though Minerva's temple claim,
Our fervid vows at learning's shrine,
We boast the patriot's glorious flame,
The sons of freedom and the nine.
Rise, &c.

'Mid the wild desert's gloomy waste,
Our gallant Sires, untaught to yield,
This germ of science whilom placed,
To shade the Muse, the Hero shield.
Rise, &c.

Here nurs'd by virtue, towers the oak,
Whose lofty branches prop the skies,
Defy the lightning's forceful stroke,
When earthquake whelms, or whirlwinds slies.
Rise, &c.

[Page 160]
Beneath the shade by wisdom taught,
The arts unfold their their virgin charms;
And, fir'd by genius, nervous thought
In triumph grasps his classic arms.
Rise, &c.

To guard this pantheon of the globe,
While peace displays her rainbow vest,
While, leagued with justice, swells the robe,
And great in valor nods the crest.
Rise, &c.

Let freedom's voice round earth proclaim,
Cabal shall ne'er divide our realm,
While time can trumpet GEORGE's fame,
Or ADAMS guide our Union's helm.
Rise, &c.

Sh [...]uld fierce invasion's powers combine
To guard Columbia, great and free,
E'en Bunker, rent by bursting mine,
Would float an Andes o'er the sea,
Rise, &c.

GUARDIANS OF OUR NATION.

GUARDIANS of our nation, stand firm in your station,
While Europe is all in commotion;
We'll let the world see that America's free,
Our flag shall ride safe on the ocean,

Since France doth aspire to set us on fire,
And fill our Grand Court with distraction,
[Page 161]Then firm let us be, united and free,
In spite of proud France and of faction.

We'll ne'er have a king, tho' of ADAMS we'll sing,
And chaunt to our children his story;
We'll let the world see Columbia is free,
And fight for our country and glory.

Our Navy shall ride on the ocean so wide,
With all the proud billows in motion,
No tyrant shall dare his ensigns to rear,
And pirates shall fly from the ocean.

These pirates of France have dar'd to advance
To our seas, and the mouths of our harbours:
But Frenchmen shall see our states will be free,
We'll clear all our coasts of such robbers.

Now let us unite to stand for our right,
And protect our commerce from plunder:
These rovers at sea, shall begin now to flee,
When Ganges discharges his thunder.

TOM TRIGGERS ADIEU.

HARK, hark, the loud drums call the soldiers away,
Adieu my dear charmer for our rights are at stake,
'Tis glory invites, and I proudly obey,
To try I'm resolv'd all infringers to take.
[Page 162]But faithful and true, to their cause while I prove.
Amidst the dread battle, I'll think of my Nan,
For he who deserts from the standard of love,
Proves plainly his life's a mere flash in the pan.

America's blest shore, so renown'd for it's fair,
The same of a soldier is thus understood,
That while he can conquer he's eager to spare.
And stop the effusion of innocent blood;
Tho' fearless and bold in the field he can prove,
Humanity forms the grand base of his plan,
But he who deserts from the standard of love,
Proves plainly his life's a mere flash in the pan.

In defence of my country I'm willing to fall,
If orders for that shall be sent from above;
But fortune, who frequently smiles on us all,
May kindly restore honest Tom to his love.
I'll then to the standard of H [...]men repair;
And under his banners enlist with my Nan,
For he who deserts from the cause of the fair
Proves plainly his life's a mere flash in the pan.

A SOLDIER, a soldier, a soldier for me,
His  [...]ms are so bright,
And he looks so upright,
So gallant and gay,
[Page 163]When he trips it away,
Who is so nice and well-powder'd as he.
Sing  [...]ud a dub rub a dub rub a dub a dub a dub dub bub
Thunder and plunder,
A soldier, a soldier, a soldier for me.

Each morn when we see him upon the parade,
He cuts such a flash,
With his gorget and sash
And makes such ado,
With his gaiter and queene,
Sleeping, or walking, who need be afraid,
Sing, rub a dub, &c.
Or else when he's moundted so trim and so tall,
With broad sword in hand,
The whole town to command,
Such capors, such prances,
Such ogling, such glances,
Our hearts gallop oil, and are left at White-hall.
Sing taran tantaran tantaran tantaran tan,
Trumpet and thump it,
A soldier, a soldier, a soldier for me.
A soldier, &c.

VICAR AND MOSES.

THERE was once, it was said, when, is out of my head,
And where too; yet true is my tale,
[Page 164]That a round belly'd vicar, bepimpled with liquor,
Could stick to no text like good ale,
Tol de rol, de rol, lol lol lol lol.

He one night 'gan to dose; for, under the rose,
The parson was then non se ipse:
Non se ipse!—you'll say, What's that to the lay?
In plain English, the parson was tipsy.
His clerk, stopping in, with a band bobbin chin,
As solemn and stupid as may be;
The vicar he gap'd; the clerk hemm'd and scrap'd,
Saying, Please, Sir, to bury a baby.
Now our author supposes, the clerk's name was Moses,
He look'd, like his master, so rosy;
Who blink'd with one eye, with his wig all awry,
And hi [...] cap'd—Pray how is it Mosy?
A child, S [...]r is carry'd, by you to be hury'd.—
Bury me▪ Moses! no, that won't do.—
Lord, Sir! said the clerk, you are all in the dark;
'Tis a child to be bury'd, not you.

Well, Moses, don't hurry; the infant we'll bury.—
But, master, the corpse cannot stay.—
Well, can it? but why? for once, then we'll try
If a corpse, Moses, can run away.
[Page 165]But Moses reply'd:—Sir, the parish will chide,
For keeping them out in cold weather.—
Then Moses, quoth he, go and tell them from me,
I'll bury them warm all together.

But, Sir, it rains hard; pray have some re­gard.—
Regard, Moses! that makes me stay:
For no corpse, young or old, in rain can catch cold;
But, faith, Moses, you and I may.

Moses begg'd he'd be gone, saying, Sir, the rain's done;
Please to rise, and I'll lend you my hand.—
Oh! 'tis hard, quoth the vicar, to leave thus my liquor,
And go where I'm sure I can't stand.

Then the parson sore troubled, to the church­yard he hobbied,
Lamenting the length of the way;
For, Moses, quoth he, were I a bishop, d'ye see,
I neither need walk, preach nor pray.

When he came to the grave, says he—Moses, a stave.
Lord! Where's my tobacco box hid?
I declare this fast walking prevents me from talking;
So, Moses, pray give me a quid.

[Page 166]

Then he open'd the book, and in't seem'd to look:

But o'er th page only he squinted:—

Says he, Moses, I'm vex'd, for I can't find the text.

The book is so damnably printed.

Good people, let's pray. Life's, alas! but a day;
Nay sometimes 'tis over at noon;
Man is but a flower, cut down in an hour:
'Tis strong ale, Mosy, does it so soon.

Woman of a man born—no, that's wrong, the leaf's torn?
Upon woman the natural swell is;
The world would grow wild, were men got with child:
Moses, you and I might have big bellies!

Neigbours, mind what I say, when 'tis night 'tis not day,
Though in former times saints could work wonders;
For, cut off your head, in a trice, it is said,
They'd replace it without any blunders.

Come, let us go forth; put the child in the earth;
Dust to dust Moses, dust is away;
For Moses, I trust we all should be dust,
If we were nor to moisten our clay.

So one pot, and then—the clerk said, Amen.
And thus we have carried the farce on.
[Page 167]The taste of the times will relish our rhimes,
When the ridicule runs on a parson.

Then Satire, detest Immortality's jest,
Each profane or immodest expression:
But we'll not be rude, but drink as we should,
To the good folks of ev'ry profession.

WHAT A CHARMING FELLOW.

LORD, what care I for mam or dad?
Why let 'em scold and bellow,
For while I live, I'll love my lad,
He's such a charming fellow.

The last fair day on Gander green,
The youth, he danc'd so well O,
So spruce a lad was never seen,
As my sweet charming fellow.

The fair was over, night was come,
The lad was somewhat mellow;
Says he my dear, I'll see you home—
I thank'd the charming fellow.

We trudg'd along, the moon shone bright,
Says he, if you'll not tell O,
I'll kiss you here by this good light—
Lord what a charming fellow.

You rogue, says I, you've stopp'd my breath,
Ye bells ring out my knell O,
Again I'd die so sweet a death,
With such a charming fellow.

[Page 168]

THE CROPS.

YF nymphs and swains,
Attend my strains,
Good humour prompts the lay,
A lively song,
And cheerful throng,
Will chace dull care away;
The times have been hard  [...]allow;
But fate smiles proportionate now,
And fashion itself denotes plenty▪
See all around,
What crops abound.
For one of last year we have twenty
Fine crops,
Rich tops,
Huzza huzza, &c.
What need we fear,
This is the harvest of leap-year, &c.

The ladies too,
As patriots true,
Flock round the green cloth board,
And sitting late,
To help the state,
Deal out their spousy's hoard,
With arms and with elbows all bare,
No pains nor expence do they spare,
Content to be chain'd round the middle,
With gilded head,
Like gingerbread,
All follow the card and the fiddle,
[Page 169]Great haste,
No waist,
Huzza, &c.

If aid like this,
Tho' Ma'ma and Miss
From recreation springs,
If bucks and fops,
Produce such crops,
We never can want good things;
But should glit'ring belles shine in vain,
And cruel informers  [...]omplain,
To stop the fair bank circulation,
Our dogs will help,
Tax every whelp,
And puppies may prop the nation,
Bow wow,
That's how,
Huzza, huzza, &c.

LESSON OF LOVE.

IF e'er I should learn the sweet lesson of love,
Let these be the works of the man I approve;
No pedant, yet learn'd, nor rakehelly gay,
Nor laughing, because he has nothing to say;
To all my sex, still obliging and free,
Yet never shew fondness to any but me;
In public preserve the decorum that's just,
And shew in his eyes he is true to his trust.
[Page 170]But when the long hours of observance are past,
And we sweetly retreat to a welcome repast;
May ev'ry fond pleasure that moment endear,
Be banish'd afar both discretion and fear:
Forgetting and scorning the airs of a crowd,
He may cease to be formal, and I to be proud;
Till lost in the joy, we confess that we live,
And he may be rude, and yet I may forgive.

And that my delight may be stedfastly fix'd,
Let the friend and the lover be properly mix'd:
In whose tender bosom my soul can confide,
Whose kindness can smooth me, whose coun­sel can guide,
From such a dear lover as here I describe,
No danger should fright me, no millions should bribe;
But till I can find so uncommon a swain,
As I long have liv'd sing [...]e, I'll single remain.

TYRANT CUSTOM.DID not tyrant custom guide me,
To my Damon I would tell,
Never swain was half to lovely,
Never nymph lov'd half so well.
I would tell him that his beauty
First assum'd the conq'ring part;
But his manly sense and courage
Triumph'd o'er my yielding heart.
Why should tyrant custom  [...]
[Page 171]Censure's self could ne'er upbraid him,
Malice ne'er could spot his name;
All his sex who envy, praise him
For his virtue, truth and fame.
Tyrant custom shall not, &c.

TO THE LARK.

Go, tuneful bird, that glads the skies,
To Daphne's window speed thy way,
And there on quiv'ring pinions rise,
And there thy vocal art display.

And if she deign thy notes to hear,
And if she praise thy ma [...]in song;
Tell her the sounds that sooth her ear,
To Damon's native plaints belong.

Tell her, in livelier plumes array'd,
The bird from Indian grove may shine,
But ask the lovely, partial maid,
What are his notes, compar'd to thine?

Then bid her treat yon witless beau,
And all his flaunting race, with scorn,
And lend an ear to Dammon's woe,
Who sings her praise, and sings forlorn.

CUPID.

CUPID, god of love and joy,
Wanton rosy winged boy,
Guard her heart from all alarms,
[Page 172]Bring her deck'd in all her charms,
Blushing, panting, to my arms.

All the heaven I ask below,
Is to use thy darts and bow,
Could I have them in my pow'r,
One sweet smiling happy hour,
One sweet woman I'd secure.

She's the first which Venus made,
With her graces full array'd;
When she treads the velvet ground,
We feel the zone with which she's bound,
All is paradise around.

I'M WEARY OF GRANDEUR.

FROM the court to the cottage convey me away,
For I'm weary of grandeur, and what they call gay;
Where pride without measure,
And pomp without pleasure,
Make life in a circle of hurry decay.

Far remote, and retir'd, from the noise of the town,
I'll exchange my brocade for a plain russet gown:
My friends shall be few,
But well chosen, and true,
And sweet recreation our evenings shall crown.

[Page 173]
With a rural repast, a rich banquet to me▪
On a mossy green turf, near some shady old tree;
The river's clear brink
Shall afford me my drink,
And temp'rance my friendly physician shall be.
Ever calm and serene, with contentment still blest,
Not too giddy with joy, or with sorrow de­prest,
I'll neither invoke,
Nor repine at death's stroke,
But retire from the world as I wou'd to my rest.

THE MAID OF THE MILL.

WILLIAM.

I'VE kiss'd and I've prattled with fifty fair maids,

And chang'd 'em as oft d'ye see;

But of all the fair maidens that dance on the green,

The maid of the mill for me.

PHOEBE.

There's fifty young men have told me fine tales,

And call'd me the fairest she;

But of all the gay wrestlers that sport on the green,

Young Harry's the lad for me.

WILLIAM.

[Page 174]

Her eyes are as black as the sloe in the hedge,

Her face like the blossoms in May;

Her teeth are as white as the new-shorn flock,

Her breath like the new-made hay.

PHOEBE.

He's tall, and he's strait as the poplar tree,

His cheeks are as fresh as the rose;

He looks like a 'squire of high degree

When drest in his Sunday cloaths.

FROM NIGHT TILL MORN.

FROM night till morn I take my glass,
In hopes to forget my Chloe,
But tho' I take the pleasing draught,
She's ne'er the less before me.
Ah! no, no, no, wine cannot cure,
The pain I endure for my Chloe.

To wine I flew to ease the pain,
Her beauteous charms created;
But wine more firmly bound the chain,
And love would not he cheated;
Ah! no, no, no, wine cannot cure,
The pain I endure for my Chloe.

[Page 175]

THE INDIAN CHIEF.

THE sun sets at night, and the stars shun the day,
But glory remains when their lights fade away;
Begin, ye tormentors, your threats are in vain,
For the son of Alkmonoak shall never com­plain.

Remember the arrows he shot from his bow;
Remember your chiefs by his hatchet laid low;
Why so slow? do you wait 'till I shrink from my pain?
No—the son of Alkmonoak shall never com­plain.

Remember the wood—where in ambush we lay,
And the scalps which we bore from your na­tion away:
When the flame rises fast! you'll exult in my pain;
But the son of Alkmonoak shall never com­plain.

I go to the land where? my father is gone;
His ghost shall rejoice in the same of his son:
Death comes like a friend—he relieves me from pain;
And thy son. O Alkmonoak, has scorn'd to complain.

[Page 176]

OF LOVE I MADE A JEST.

Not long ago how blythe was I!
My heart was then at rest:
I knew not what it was to sigh,
Of love I made [...] jest.
But soon I found 't was all in vain
To thwart the urchin's will;
For now I'm forc'd to drag the chain
For Fanny of the hill.

When walking out upon the green,
We chance to toy and kiss,
The lads and lasses vent their spleen,
In envy of the bliss
By turns they censure ev'ry part,
Her face, her shape, and air;
But let 'em rail, with all my heart,
If I but think her fair.

With golden locks her head is grac'd,
That fan each dimpled cheek;
With lips might tempt e'en Jove to taste,
And eyes which seem to speak.
If then such beauties she displays,
Yet paltry critics hence;
For such a form was made for praise,
And not to give offence.

Great gods! who made mankind your care,
And judge unseen above;
For once be grateful to my pray'r,
Give me the girl I love:
[Page 177]That when possess'd of Fanny's charms,
The world I may defy;
And when you snatch her from my arms,
With pleasure then I'll die.

LOVE I'M FORBIDDEN TO NAME.

FORSAKEN my pipe and my crook,
Why will you solicit my lay?
No longer I sit by the brook,
And carol my sorrows away.
Say, Laura, what theme shall I chuse?
Your praises I must not proclaim;
And friendship's too cold for my muse,
And love I'm forbidden to name.

For I'm but a poor simple swain,
Whole flocks and whose herdsare but small,
And my cottage, tho' neat on the plain,
Is cover'd with thatch, and that's all:
And Laura is blooming and young,
Ah! would that I too were the same;
My heart then might hint to my tongue
What now I'm forbidden to name.

Yet deny'd my fond wish to impart,
My wishes from you shall not swerve,
That the shepherd who sues for your heart,
By his own may your virtues deserve:
With the charms which no time can destroy,
With the worth which no breath can de­fame,
May you taste of that permanent joy,
Which now I'm forbidden to name.

[Page 178]

PHILLIS AND STREPHON.

FAREWELL, ye green fields and sweet groves,
Where Phillis engag'd my fond heart;
Where nightingales warble their loves,
And nature is dress'd without art:
No pleasure ye now can afford,
Nor music can lull me to rest;
For Phillis prives false to her word,
And Strephon can never be blest.

Oft-times, by the side of a spring,
Where roses and lilies appear,
Gay Phillis of Strephon would sing,
For Strephon was all she held dear:
But as soon as she found, by my eyes,
The passion that glow'd in my breast,
She then, to my grief and surprise,
Prov'd all she had said was a jest.

Too late, to my sorrow, I find,
The beauties alone that will last,
Are those that are fix'd in the mind,
Which envy or time cannot blast:
Beware, then, beware how ye trust
Coquets, who to love make pretence;
For Phillis to me had been just.
If nature had bless'd her with sense.

THE ROSE TREE.

A ROSE Tree in full bearing,
 [...]
[Page 179]One Rose, beyond comparing,
For beauty attracted me.
Though earger once to win it,
Lovely, blooming, fresh and gay,
I find a canker in it,
And now I throw it far away.
I find a canker in it, &c.

How fine this morning early,
The sun shining clear and bright,
So late I lov'd you dearly,
But now I've lost each fond delight.
The clouds seem big with showers,
Sunny beams no more are seen,
Farewell ye fleeting hours,
Since your false heart has chang'd the scene
Farewell, ye, &c.

SWEET NIGHTINGALE.

SWEET nightingale! Queen of the spray,

Whose note is disturb'd by our song;

Ah! stretch not thy pinions away,

Alarm'd at the numerous throng;

But try the sweet warble again,

And challenge thy hearers so fine,

Though the muses attend on their train,

To make such a concert as thine.

[Page]

[Page 180]

SINCE EMMA CAUGHT MY ROVING EYE.

SINCE Emma caught my roving eye,
Since Emma fix'd my wav'ring heart,
I long to smile, I scorn to sigh,
But nature triumphs over art.
If such the hapless moments prove,
Ah! who would give his heart to love?

If frowns and sighs, and cold disdain,
Be meet return for love like mine;
If cruel Emma scoffs my pain,
And archly wonders why I pine.
If such, &c.

But should the lovely girl resent;
Oh!—when I wish, and sigh, and vow,
Should she with blushes smile consent,
And heart for heart, well pleas'd, bestow;
Should such the blissful, &c.

SHALL I, LIKE AN HERMIT, DWELL.

SHALL I, like an hermit, dwell
Or a rock, or in a cell,
Calling home the smallest part
That is missing of my heart,
To bestow it where I may
M [...]et [...]  [...]rival every day?
If she undervalues me,
What care I how fair she be?

[Page 181]
Were her tresses angel gold;
If a stranger may be bold,
Unrebuked, unafraid,
To convert them to a braid,
And, with a little more ado,
Work them into bracelets too;
If the mine be grown so free,
What care I how rich it be?

Were her hands as rich a prize
As her hairs, or precious eyes;
If she lay them out to take
Kisses for good-manners sake;
And let every lover skip
From her hand unto her lip;
If she seem not chaste to me,
What care I how chaste she be?

No; she must be perfect snow,
In effect as well as show,
Warming but as snow-bails do.
Not like fire, by burning too:
But when she by change hath got
To her heart a second lot;
Then, if others share with me,
Farewell her, whate'er she be.

LITTLE LAD.

THO' I am now a very little lad,
If fighting men cannot be had,
[Page 182]For want of a better I may do,
To follow the boy with a rat tat too;
I may seem tender, yet I'm tough,
And though not much o'me, right good stuff,
Of this I'll boast, say more who can,
I never was afraid to meet my man.
I'm a chickabiddy, see take me now now now,
I'm a little merry he, for your row dow dow,
Brown B [...]ss I'll knock about, O there's my joy,
At my back a knapsack like a roving boy.

In my tartan plaid a young soldier view,
My philibeg and dirk, and my bonnet blue,
Give the word, and I'll march where you command,
Noble serjeant with a shilling strike my hand.
My captain, as he takes his glass,
May wish to toy with a pretty lass,
For such a one I have a roguish eye,
He'll never want a girl when I am by.
I'm a chickabiddy, &c.

Tho' a barber never yet has mow'd my chin,
With my great broad sword I long to begin,
Cut, slash, ram damn—O glorious fun,
For a gun, pip, pop, change my little pop-gun.
My foes shall fly like geese in stocks,
E'en Turks I'll drive like turkey-cocks,
And where ever quartered I shall be,
O, zounds! how I'll kiss my landlady.
I'm a chickabiddy, &c.

[Page 183]
Duet—La Gloire and Madolon.MADELON.
COU'D you to battle march away,
And leave me here complaining?
I'm sure 't would break my heart to stay,
When you were gone campaigning:
Ah! non, non, non,
Pauv [...]e Madelon
Could never quit her rover!
Ah! non, non, non,
Pauvre Madelon
Would go with you all the world over!
LA GLOIRE.
And can you to battle go,
To woman's fear a stranger?
MEDELON.
No fear my breast will ever know,
But when my love's in danger.
Ah! non, non, non,
Pauvre Madelon
Fears only for her rover!
Ah! non, non, non,
Pauvre Madelon
Will go with you all the world over!
BOTH.
Then let the world jog as it will,
Let hollow friends forsake us;
We both shall be as happy still,
As war and love can make us.
[Page 184]Ah! non, non, non,
Pauvre Madolon
Shall never quit her rover!
Ah! non non, non,
Pauvre Madelon
Shall go with you [me] all the world over!

SIMILE.

THE rose just bursting into bloom,
Admir'd where'er 'tis seen;
Diffuses round a rich perfume,
The garden's pride and queen.
When gather'd from its native bed,
No longer charms the eye;
Its vivid tints are quickly fled.
'Twill wither, droop and die.

So woman when by nature drest,
In charms devoid of art;
Can warm the stoit's i [...] breast,
Can triumph o'er earth heart.
Can bid the soul to virtue rise,
To glory prompt the brave,
But sinks opprest, and drooping dies,
When once she's made a slave.

HOOK OR BY CROOK.

A FEW years in the days of my grannam,
(A worthy good woman as ever broke bread,
[Page 185]What lectures she gave, in the morning began 'em,
Nor ceas'd till she laid herself down on her bed;
She never declin'd what she once undertook,
But twisted,
Persisted,
Now flatter'd,
Now spartered,
And always succeeded by hook or by crook.

Said she, child, whatever your fate is hereafter,
If married, if single, if old, or if young,
In madness, in sadness, in tears, or in laughter,
But follow my maxims, you cannot do wrong;
Each passion, each temper, I always could brook;
When so olded,
I moulded,
When heated,
Retreated,
And manag'd my matters, by hook or by crook.

Ensnar'd by her councils, I ventur'd to marry,
And fancy'd a wife, by my grandmother's rules,
Might be taught like a spaniel to fetch and to carry,
But soon I found out that we both had been fools;
[Page 186]In vain, I show'd madam the wonderful bool
I coax'd her,
I box'd her,
But truly,
Unruly,
Wives cannot be govern'd by hook or by crook,

COME MY SYLVIA.

COME, my Sylvia! come and bless
This spot, which I have toil'd to dress
In all that charms the gazer's eye,
In ev'ry tint that wears a dye.

In peace we'll dwell, and placid ease,
We'll do whatever each shall please;
Free as the seas our senses roll,
And speak a boundless, fluent soul.

Nor time shall waft our love away,
Swift as the threads of life decay;
Each gale that shirts the hours along,
Shall bring fresh wreathes to deck our song.

From virtue's sweets, that never cloy;
From rural scenes, extatic joy!
Or turn the mind-instructing page,
And learn to live a good old age.

[...]

[Page 189]

BRIGHT PHOEBUS.

BRIGHT Phoebus has mounted the chariot of day,
And the horns and the hounds call each sportsman away;
Thro' woods and thro' meadows, with speed now they bound,
While health, rosy health, is in exercise found;
Hark away! Hark away! Hark away is the word to the sound of the horn,
And echo, blithe echo, makes jovial the morn.

Each hill and each valley is lovely to view,
While Puss flies the covert, and dogs quick pursue.
Behold where she flies o'er the wide-spreading plain!
While the loud op'ning pack pursue her amain.
Ha [...] away, &c.
At length Puss is caught, and lies panting for breath,
And the shout of the huntsman's the signal of death.
No joys can delight like the sports of the field;
To hunting all pastimes and pleasures must yield.
Hark away, &c.

TALLY HO.

AT the sound of the horn,
We rise in the morn,
And waken the woods as we thunder along;
[Page 190]Yoix, voix, Tally ho!
After Reynard we go,
While echo on echo redoubles the song.
We wakes the woods as we thunder along.
Ta [...]ly ho! tal [...]y ho!
After Reynard we go,
While echo on echo redoubles the song.

Not the steeds of the sun
Our brave courses outrun,
O'er the mound horse and hound see us bound in full cry,
Like Phoebus we rise,
To the heights of the skies,
And, careless of danger five bars we defy.
We waken the woods, &c.

At eve, Sir, we rush,
And are close to his brush;
Already he dies, see him panting for breath:
Each feat and defeat,
We renew and repeat,
Regardless of life, so we're in at the death.
We waken the woods, &c.

With a bottle at night,
We prolong the delight.
Much Trimbush we praise, and the deeds that were done;
And yoix, Tallyho!
The next morning we go
With Phoebus to end, as we mount with the sun.
We waken the woods, &c.

[Page 191]

THE DUSKY NIGHT.

THE dusky night rides down the sky,
And ushers in the morn,
The hounds all join the jovial cry,
The huntsman winds his horn
And a hunting we will go,
A hunting we will go,
A hunting we will go,
A hunting we will go.

The wise around her husband throws
Her arms to make him stay.
My dear, it rain's, it hails, it blows,
You cannot hunt to day.
Yet a hunting, &c.

Sly reynard now like lightn'ing flies,
And sweeps across the vale,
But when the hounds too near he spies,
He drops his bushy tail.
Then a hunting, &c.

Fond echo seems to like the sport,
And join the jovial cry,
The woods and hills the sound retort,
And music fills the sky.
Then a hunting, &c.
At last his strength to faintness worn,
Poor Reynard ceases flight;
Then hungry homeward we return
To feast away the night.
And a drinking, &c.

[Page 192]
Ye jovial hunters in the morn
Prepare then for the chace,
Rise at the sounding of the horn,
And health with sport embrace.
When a hunting &c.

YE SPORTSMEN DRAW NEAR.

YE sportsmen draw near, and ye sportswom­en too,
Who delight in the joys of the field,
Mankind, though they blame, are all eager as you,
And no one the contest will yield,
His lordship, his worship, his honour, his grace,
A hunting continually go;
All ranks and degrees are engag'd in the chace,
With hark forward, huzza, tally ho.

The lawyer will rise with the first of the morn
To hunt for a mortgage or deed;
The husband gets up at the found of the horn
And rides to the common full speed;
The patriot is thrown in pursuit of the game;
The poet too often lays low,
Who, mounted on Pegassus flies after same,
With hark forward, huzza tally ho.

While fearless o'er hills and o'er woodlands we sweep
Tho' prudes on our pastime way frown,
[Page 193]How oft' do they decency's bounds overleap
And the fences of virtue break down?
Thus public, or private, for pension, for place,
For amusement, for passion, for shew,
All ranks and degrees are engag'd in the chace,
With hark forward, huzza, tally ho.

JOCKEY TO THE FAIR.

'TWAS on the morn of sweet May day,
When nature painted all things gay,
Taught birds to sing and lambs to play,
And gild the meadows rare:
Young Jockey early in the dawn,
Arose, and tript it o'er the lawn;
His Sunday's coat the youth put on,
For Jenny had vow'd away to run
With Jockey to the fair.
For Jenny had vow'd away to run, &c.

The cheerful parish bells had  [...]ung,
With eager steps he trudg'd along,
With flow'ry garlands round him hung,
Which sheph [...]ds us'd to wear:
He tapt the window—Haste, my dear,
Jenny impatient, cri'd Who's there?
'Tis I, my love, and no one near▪
S [...]p  [...]ently down, you've nought to fear,
With Jockey to the fair.

My dad and mamma's fast asleep,
My brother's up and with the sheep;
And will you still your promise keep,
Which I have heard you swear?
[Page 194]And will you ever constant prove?
I will by all the powers of love,
And ne'er deceive my charming dove:
Dispel these doubts, and haste my love,
With Jockey to the fair.

Behold the ring▪ the shepherd cri'd
Will Jenny be my charming bride?
Let C [...]d be our happy guide,
And H [...]men meet us there.
Then Jockey did his vows renew,
He would be constant, would be true:
His word was pledg'd—away she flew,
With cowslips, tipt with balmy dew,
With Jockey to the fair.

In raptures meet the joyful throng,
Their gay companions blithe and young;
Each join the dance, each join the song,
And hail the happy pair:
In turns there's none so fond as they,
They bless'd the kind, propitious day;
The smiling morn of blooming May,
When lovely Jenny ran away,
With Jockey to the fair.

ELIZA.

THE summer gay, delightful scene,
With all it's pleasing charms,
It's golden groves, and polish'd green,
Will sink in winter's arms.

[Page 195]

Come then, Eliza, let us rove,

'Midst nature's richest store;

Those bounties seize, and feast like Jove,

And nature's works explore.

Catch nature's beauties as they roll,
While mutual passions charm;
Content shall harmonize the soul,
And ev'ry pain disarm.

Then when stern winter shakes the world,
And rapid lightnings fly,
When nature's in confusion hurl'd,
We'll ev'ry care defy.

IN Charles the Second's merry days,
For wanton frolies noted,
A lover of cabals I was,
With wine like Bacchus floated.
I preach'd unto my crowded pews.
Wine was by God's command, Sir,
And damn'd was he who did refuse
To drink while he could stand, Sir,
And this is law I will maintain
Unto my dying day, Sir;—
That, whatsoever king shall reign,
I'll drink a gallon a day, Sir.

When James the sot assum'd the throne,
He strove to stand alone, Sir,
But quickly got so drunk, that down
He tumbled from the throne, Sir.
One morning—crop sick, pale and queer,
[Page 196]By sitting up with gay men—
He reel'd to Rome where priests severe
Deny the cup to laymen.
And this is law, &c.

Then Will, the tippling Dutchman sav'd
Our liberties from sinking;
We crown'd him king of cups, and crav'd
The privilege of thinking,
He drank your Holland gin, 'tis said,
And held predestination:
Fool! not to know the tippling trade
Admits no trepidation!
And this is law, &c.

When brandy Nan became our queen,
'Twas all a drunken story;
I sat and drank from morn till e'en,
And so was thought a Tory.
Brim full of wine, all sober folks
We damn'd, and moderation;
And for right Nantz, we pawn'd to France
Our dearest reputation.
And this is law. I will maintain,
For ever and for aye, Sir:
That, whether king or queen shall reign.
I'll drink a gallon a day, Sir,

King George the First then fill'd the throne,
And took the resolution
To drink all sorts of liquors known,
To save the Constitution.
He drank success in rare old rum,
Unto the States and Church, Sir.
[Page 197]Till with a dose of Brunswick mum,
He dropp'd from off the perch, Sir,
And this is law, &c.

King George the Second then arose,
A wise and valiant soul, Sir,
He lov'd his people, beat his foes,
And push'd about the bowl, Sir.
He drank his fill to Chatham Will,
To heroes, for he chose 'em;
With us true Wigs he drank until
He slept in Abra'm's bosom.
And this is law, &c.

His present Majesty that came,
Whom, Heaven long preserve, Sir!
He glory'd in a Briton's name,
And swore he'd never swerve, Sir.
Though evil counsellors may think
His love from us to sever,
Yet let us, royal Britons drink—
King George the Third forever!
And this is law I will maintain,
For ever and for aye, Sir;—
That, whatsoever king shall reign,
I'll drink both night and day, Sir.

EXTINGUISH the candles, give Phoebus fa [...] play,
The shutters unbolt, let us honour the day:
My lady Lucina we've drove from her post,
The sun shines upon us, we'll give him a toast

[Page 198]

Says Caution, the neighbours are passing along,

They'll look thro' the sashes and tell us we're wrong:

Remonstrance avaunt—what is all they can say?

But that all night they slept, while we drank it away.

Ye tutors, disputers, ye dignified doctors,
Ye majors, ye minors, with prebends and proctors,
What sense is it, prithee, which tells us to think,
When all our seven senses declare we shou'd, drink?

Our patron is Bacchus, and Jove was his sire,
He was born in a burst of celestial fire;
Mamma begg'd the god would come worthy her charms,
The lightning of love prov'd too much for her arms.

From her, in a moment, the baby was snatch'd,
And into a buck by Nurse Jupiter hatch'd;
Th' immortal to expiate Semele's rape,
Bestow'd on his foundling the gift of the grape.

Ye love-sick who live on the shine of an eye,
The red of a cheek, or the tone of a sigh;
Impress'd by the smiles or the frowns of a fair,
As weather-glass shews variations of air;

In country or town you have seen without doubt
A dancing-bear led by a ring in his snout,
[Page 199]While Pug plays his tricks if ye shew him some fruit,
These emblems, ye ladies, will most lovers suit.

If girls won't comply why we never run mad,
But away to the next, as enough may he had;
If again we're repuls'd, we ne'er hang, nor despair,
But in wine comfort seek, we are sure of it there.

Draw your bows ye Crochetti in music's defence,
With sound I'm for having a portion of sense;
Give me a bell's tinkle, a fat landlord's roar.
With a good fellow's bellow, Bring six bottles more.

Six bottles! we'll have them, and bumper away,
We've drank up the night and we'll drink down the day,
Here's his health who to wine and his word will be just,
Here's the girl that we love, and the friend we can trust.

WELL met, jolly fellows, well met;
By this bowl you're all welcome, I swear:
See where on the table 'tis set.
And design'd for the grave of our care.
From this social convention,
'Twill drive all contention,
Save only who longest can drink;
[Page 200]Then fill up your glasses,
And drink to your lasses,
The head-ach take him that shall shrink.

Do but look at this glass! here boys, hand it around;
Why it sparkles like Phillis's eye;
But 'tis better by far boys; for when her eyes wound,
This balm to the wound will supply:
Then a fig for all thinking;
Fill, fill, and be drinking;
Let us drown all our cares and our sorrow;
Come, the toast, boys, the toast!
There's no time to be lost,
For our cares will return with to morrow.

UNION OF THE GODS. Tune—"To Anacreon in Heaven."

TO COLUMBIA, who, gladly reclin'd at her ease,
On Atlantic's broad bosom lay smiling in peace,
Minerva flew hastily, sent from above,
And address'd her this message from thun­dering Jove:
"Rouse, quickly awake,
"For your freedom's at stake,
"Storms arise, your renown'd independence to shake;
[Page 201]"Then lose not a moment, my aid I will lend,
"If your sons will assemble your rights to de­fend."

Rous'd Columbia rose up, and indignant de­clar'd,
That no nation she'd wrong'd, and no nation she fear'd;
That she wish'd not for war, but if war was her fate,
She could meet it with sould independent and great;
The tell mighty Jove,
That we quickly will prove,
We'll deserve the protection he'll send from above.
For ne'er shall the sons of America bend,
But, united, their rights and their freedom defend.

Minerva smil'd cheerfully as she withdrew,
Enraptur'd to find her Americans true;
"For (said she) our sly Mercury oft-times re­ports.
"That your sons are divided"—Columbia re­torts:
Tell that vile god of thieves,
His report but deceives,
And we care not what mad man such nonsense believes.
For ne'er shall the sons of America bend,
But united, their rights and their freedom de­fend.

[Page 202]
Jove rejoic'd in Columbians this union to see,
And swore by old Styx they deserved to be free;
Then assembled the gods, and to all gave con­sent,
Their assistance if needful in war to present;
Mars arose, shook his armour,
And swore, his old farmer
Should ne'er in his country see ought that could harm her;
For ne'er should the sons of America bend,
But united, their rights and their freedom de­fend.

Minerva resolved that her Aegis she'd lend;
And Apollo declar'd he their cause would be­friend;
Old Vulcan an armour would forge for their aid,
More firm than the one for Achilles he made:
The said he I'll prepare
A compound most rare,
Of courage and union each a full share.
That ne'er can the sons of America bend,
But their rights and their freedom most firmly defend.

Ye sons of Columbia then join hand in hand;
Divided we fall, but united we stand;
'Tis ours to determine, 'tis ours to decree,
That in peace we will live Independent and free.
[Page 203]And should from afar
Break the horrors of war,
We'll always be ready at once to declare,
That ne'er will the sons of America bend,
But, united, and their rights and their freedom de­fend.

COLUMBIA'S BALD EAGLE.

COLUMBIA's Bald Eagle displays in his claws,
The arrows of Jove, to confound her proud foes;
While the artful French Bear, with his wide spreading paws,
Would ensnare us by hugs far more fatal than blows.
But his hugs and his blows we will meet them like men,
And the Eagle shall drive the beast back to his den.

The terrible bear, not yet sated with blood,
Prowls around his huge den o'er the bones of his prey;
Tho' now gorg'd to the full, he still howls for more food,
And would lure by his tricks fair Columbia away.
But his tricks and his howls we despise them like men,
And the Eagle shall drive the beast back to his den.

[Page 204]
Not a Frog e'er shall bribe him to stay his rude shocks,
For the Eagle disdans to retreat from his ire:
We will marshal our columns as solid as rocks,
And receive the proud Frenchmen in vollies of fire,
Like true sons of Columbia, we will act still like men,
And her Eagle shall drive the Bear back to his den.

THE GENIUS OF COLUMBIA.

AWAKE from delusion, ye sons of the brave;
"C [...]es the Genius, that watches our freedom and same;"
Thy virtue no longer from rapine can save,
Since Gallia's light up of dissension the flame.
Then to arms let's repair,
While our wrongs fill the air;
That France and the world may behold,
That our Freedom, our fame,
And our virtuous name,
We prize above friendship and gold.

Away with the veil, which thy charity spread
O'er the deeds of a nation where tyrants pre­side;
No glory of thine can its influence shed,
On the friends of deception, destruction and pride.
Then, &c.

[Page 205]
Arise from thy bowers of contentment and case.
And gird on thy sword of thy vengeance anew,
For in vain would thy wisdom their madness appease,
In vain will thy caution their plottings pur­sue.
Then, &c.

Deep dy'd with the blood of the valiant and good,
And cloth'd with deformity guilt and des­pair,
In the portal of peace, like demons they've stood,
And poison'd with venom sweet liberty's air.
Then, &c.

 [...]o Freedom, to virtue and bliss they pretend,
And vauntingly offer redemption to slaves;
While abroad thro' the world their assassins they send,
And prove by each law that they glory in knaves▪
In, &c.

 [...]se scornful my sons from a friendship so base,
And again be the banner of freedom unfurld;
 [...]ile time on his records Columbia shall place,
THE PRIDE, THE DELIGHT, AND THE BOAST OF THE WORLD.
 [...]n, &c.

[Page 206]

ODE TO COLUMBIA'S FAVOURITE SON.

GREAT WASHINGTON, the hero's come,
Each heart exulting hears the sound;
See! thousands their deliv'rer throng,
And shout him welcome all around.
Now in full chorus burst the song,
And shout the deeds of WASHINGTON!

There view Columbia's favourite son,
Her father, saviour, friend and guide!
There see th' immortal WASHINGTON!
His country's glory, boast and pride!
Now in full chorus, &c.

When the impending storm of war,
Thick clouds and darkness hid our way,
Great WASHINGTON, our polar star,
A rose, and all was light as day!
Now in full chorus, &c.

His bleeding country rous'd his soul,
Fair freedom fir'd the warrior's breast,
And drew the glitt'ring faulchion bold,
And round him clasp'd the martial vest.
Now in full chorus, &c.

Then nobly spake th' intrepid chief,
"Freedom or death be now my fate!
This burnish'd blade no more I'll sheathe,
'Till Pari [...]'s made an empire great!"
Now in full chorus, &c.

[Page 207]
This said, the hero bent his way.
Where thousands throng'd war's deathful coast;
At his approach fear fled away,
And dauntless brav'ry fir'd the host!
Now in full chorus, &c.

'Twas on yon plains his valour rose,
And ran like fire from man to man;
'Twas here he humbled Paria's foes,
And chac'd an army to the main!
Now in full chorus, &c.

Thro' countless dangers, toils and cares,
Our hero led us safely on;
With matchless skill directs the wars,
'Till vict'ry cries—the days his own!
Now in full chorus, &c.

His country sav'd t he contest o'er,
Sweet peace restor'd, his toils to crown,
The warrior to his native shore
Returns, and tills his fertile ground.
Now in full chorus, &c.

But soon Columbia called him forth,
Again to save her sinking fame,
To take the helm and by his worth
To make her an immortal name!
Now in full chorus, &c.

Nor yet alone thro' Paria's shores.
Has fame her mighty trumpet blown;
E'en Europe, Afric, Asia, hears,
And emulate the deeds he's done.
Now in full chorus, &c.

[Page 208]
Accept, great chief, this tribute due,
To deeds of virtue such as thine;
Thy glorious footstep we'll pursue,
And in our hearts thy worth enshrine!
Now in full chorus, &c.

AMERICAN SPIRIT.

SING Yankee Doodle that fine tune,
Americans delight in;
It suits for peace, it suits for fun,
It suits as well for fighting.
Yankee Doodle, (mind the tune)
Yankee Doodle dandy,
If Frenchmen come with naked bum,
We'll spank 'em hard and handy.

To çaira and carmagnole.
Direct'ry dance like Nero's;
But Frenchmen's songs, so full of wrongs,
Are scorn'd by Yankee Heroes.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

The Prendent, with good intent,
Three Envoys sent to Paris,
But cinq Tetes, would not with 'm treat,
Of honor France so bare is.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

Thro' X and Y, and Madame Sly,
They made demand of money;
For as we're told, the French love gold,
As stinging bees love honey.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

[Page 209]
Nebuchadnezzar long ago,
Set up a golden image,
Shadrach, Mechach, Abednego,
Would not fall down in homage,
Yankee Doodle, &c.

Just so cinq Tetes, with pride elate,
Of Marshall, Pinckney, Gerry,
Demand that they adore and pay,
The piper to make merry.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

That Talleyrand, might us trappan,
And o'er the country sound it;
He sent his pill t' Aurora's mill,
And Benny Faction ground it.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

But Marshall came, with trump of fame,
And brought the noble answer;
Without a joke, he had in soak,
A rod for Talleyrand, Sir,
Yankee Doodle, &c.

With fraud and he, Directory,
Deal in deceit and evil;
Who Venice sold for power and gold,
Would sell us to the Devil.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

Their 'fernal hugs, may squeeze Dutch bugs,
But we will have no master,
And while the Swiss, Sans Culottes kiss,
We'll spread a blister plaister.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

[Page 210]
Americans then fly to arms,
And learn the way to use 'em,
If each man fights, to 'fend his rights,
The French can't long abuse 'em.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

Bold ADAMS did in seventy six,
Our independence sign, sir,
And he will not, give up a jot,
Tho' all the world combine, sir.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

Let every man, adopt his plan,
Like brothers stick together;
Then all the threats, of vile cinq Tetes,
Will never weigh a feather.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

If we are firm, peace will return,
Sweet peace the very dandy;
May they that flinch a single inch,
Ne'er taste the sugar candy,
Yankee Doodle, &c.

THE AMERICAN GRENADIER.

COME all Grenadiers let us join hand in hand
And swear by our country most truly to stand
Round the banners of Liberty manfuly range
Resolv'd to preserve it unblemish'd by change.
And should our proud foes in their insults persist,
Their arts as their arms we will firmly resist;
[Page 211]For our glorious freedom we drew with our breath,
And with it we'll keep it unsullied till death.

Our cause truly noble, and honour our guide,
The defence of our country shall e'er be our pride,
Determin'd her dear Independence to guard,
In her happiness only we'll seek our reward.
For her every laboor endur'd will be sweet,
For her every danger we'll cheerfully meet,
For our glorious freedom we drew with our breath,
And with it we'll keep it unsull'd till death.
From our fathers who gain'd it, our freedom we hold,
And it ne'er by their sons shall be cowardly sold.
To guard it our fortunes shall freely be spent;
But to buy it, Columbians will ne'er give a CENT.
Then let it by Frenchmen be well understood,
That if we must purchase, our price is our blood,
For our glorious freedom we drew with our breath,
And with it we'll keep it unsullied till death.

INDEPENDENCE.

HAIL INDEPENDENCE, hail,
Bright goddess of the skies▪
Behold thy sons unite,
Behold thine altars rise!
[Page 212]Lo, freeborn millions kneel and swear,
Their birth-rights to maintain,
Resolv'd no foreign yoke to bear,
To drag no tyrant's chain.
'Tis Freedoms' day—let millions rise,
To freedom's standard fly,
Obey Columbia's call,
UNITE—LIVE FREE—OR DIE.

Long has our favour'd clime,
Beneath indulgent heaven,
Enjoy'd the smiles of peace,
Mid copious blessings given,
Here Independence' banners wav'd,
Triumphantly unfurl'd;
With laurels crown'd, Columbia's rose,
The envy of the world.
'Tis freedom's day, &c.

But lo! what gathering clouds
Assail Columbia's shore?
From Gallia's crimson'd clime,
What hellish thunders roar?
'Tis mad Ambition's hydra form
Loud threat'ning from afar,
That pours abroad th' impending storm,
And swells the trump of war!
'Tis freedom's day, &c.

Rise injur'd Freemen, rise!
Out-stretch th' indignant arm;
Defend your country's cause,
Nor dread the rude alarm.
Around  [...]air Freedom's altar throng,
Pronounce the firm decree,
[Page 213]Swear to avenge your country's wrong,
Live, like your fathers, free!
'Ti [...] freedom's day, &c.

Hail, Vernon's hoary chief!
Glory's immortal son:
Long may those laurels bloom
Thy matchless valour won;
And may thy grateful country long
Revere thy deathless name,
And with thy well earn'd praises swell,
Th' eternal trump of Fame!
'Tis freedom's day, &c.

Illustrious ADAMS hail!
To thee the task is giv'n,
To guard thy country's rights,
And share the smile of heav'n.
With what an honest patriot pride,
Th' immortal leader glows,
Firm and undaunted as a rock,
To crush Columbia's foes.
'Tis freedom's day, &c.

Hail Independence hail,
Columbia's proudest boast!
Ne'er shall thy sons forget,
The price thy blessings cost.
Long may our youth undaunted stand,
To stem Oppression's flood;
To guard their country's sacred rights,
And seal it with their blood!
'Tis freedom's day, &c.

[Page 214]

ODE TO CHARITY. Composed by J. LATHRO [...], jun. Esq

HEAV'NS fav'rite daughter, power divine,
While humbly we approach thy shrine,
O grant our warm requests!
With kind affection's generous glow,
For all the family of Woe,
Inspire—inflame our breasts!

Teach us with gentle pity's eye,
Which, like the dawning orient sky,
The way-worn pilgrim cheers,
To view the wretch who mourns forlorn,
Pierc'd with affliction's ranklin thorn,
His bitter beverage, tears!

'Tis thine, when Hope, by pangs assail'd,
Yields in despair, and Faith has fail'd,
The sinking soul to stay,
From realms of bliss to speed thy flight,
And change the gloom of mis'ry's night,
To joy's unclouded day.

When o'er the desolated land,
In anguish roam the "houseless band,"
Expos'd to ruthless storms;
When fell disease infects the gale,
And sorrows crowd life's dreary vale
In all their varied forms;—

Thou bidd'st the shelt'ring dwelling rise,
Thy bounteous hand each want supplies,
And gladness spreads around;—
[Page 215]Where'er thou mov'st Health's roses spring
Contentment smiles, and Muses sing
With flowery garlands crown'd.

To thee, the blessed task was given,
To enrich the earth with gifts from heaven,
E're Time his course began;—
Unite in harmony of soul,
The human race from pole to pole,—
THE BROTHERHOOD of MAN.

PLATO.

SAYS PLATO, Why should man be vain?
Since bounteous Heav'n has made him great!
Why looketh he with insolent disdain
On those undeck'd with wealth and state!
Can splendid robes or beds of down,
Or costly gems that deck the fair?
Can all the glories of a crown,
Give health, or ease the brow of care?

The sceptred king, the burthen'd slave,
The humble and the haughty die:
The rich, the poor, the base, the brave,
In dust without distinction lie.
Go, search the tombs where monarchs rest,
Who once the greatest titles bore:
The wealth and glory they possest,
And all their honours are no more.

So glides the meteor through the sky,
And spreads along a gilded train:
But, when its short liv'd beauties die,
Dissolves to common air again.
[Page 216]So 'tis with us, my jovial souls,
Let Friendship reign while here we stay,
Let's crown our Joys with flowing bowls,
When Jove commands we must obey.

WHEN FIRST TO HELEN'S LUTE.

WHEN first to Helen's lute,
I sung as she play'd to me,
How came these then to shoot
A thrilling sense all thro' me.
Oh 'twas love, 'twas love,
In my eyes it glistened,
'Twould inspire a brute
To sing, if Helen list [...]ned,
O my love, my love.

Why cull I with delight,
This ditty's plaintive numbers,
To wrap my fair in night,
And soothe my Helen's slumbers.
O 'tis love, 'tis love,
Lullaby my dearest,
Care from thee take flight,
And peace thy heart be nearest,
O my love, my love.

LOVE.

YOUTH and beauty kindle love,
Sighs and vows will fan the fire;
Sighs and vows may traitors prove,
Sorrow then succeed desire;
Honour, faith, and well earn'd fame,
Feed the sacred lasting flame!

[Page 217]

POT OF BROWN ALE.

ROVING about, good fellows to meet,
I met with a man upon Sal'sbury dale:
I saw by his face that he was in good case
To go and shake hands with a pot of good ale.

The beggar who begs without any legs,
And has not a rag to cover her tail,
Is as happy in rags as the miser with bags,
If once she shakes hands with a pot of good ale.

The old parish vicar, when he's in his liquor,
Does merrily at his parishoners rail.
"Come pay all your tithes, or I'll kiss all your wives,"
When once he shakes hands with a pot of good ale.

The old parish-clerk, his eyes are so dark,
He cannot well read, the print is so small:
But he'll see ev'ry letter, and sing the psalms better,
If once he shakes hands with a pot of good ale.

The farmer who hedges and ditches all day,
And wearies himself our at the plough-tale,
He'll talk of great things, about princes and kings,
When once he sits down to a pot of good ale.

If, in drinking about, we chance to fall out,
Or any thing else doth our senses assail:
If words comes to blows, or a sharp bloody nose,
We'll drink and shake hands with a pot of good ale.

[Page 218]

BACCHUS'S WINE CELLAR.

CONTENTED I am, and contented I'll be,
For what can this world more afford,
Than a friend that will sociably tipple with me,
And a cellar that's plenteously stor'd?

See! my vault door is open, descend ev'y guest,
Tap that cask, for the wine we will cry?
'Tis as sweet as the lips of your love to your taste,
And as bright as her cheeks to your eye.

In a piece of sit-hoop I my candle have stuck.
'Twill light us each bottle to hand;
The foot of my glass for the purpose I've broke,
For I hate that a bumper should stand.

Sound that pipe—'tis in tune, and the binn [...] are well fill'd,
View that heap of Madeira in the rear;
Those bottles are Burgundy; see how they'r pil'd
Like artillery, tier over tier.

My cellar's my camp, and my soldiers my flasks,
All gloriously rang'd in review;
When I cast my eyes round, I consider my casks
As kingdoms I've got to subdue.

'Tis my will when I die, not a tear shall be shed,
No hic jacet be grav'd on my stone:
But pour on my coffin a bottle of red,
And say that my drinking is done,

[Page 219]

ON BRANDY AND BEER.

When one's drunk not a girl but looks pretty,
The country's as gay as the city,
And all that one says is so witty,
A blessing on brandy and been,
Bring the cup,
Fill it up,
Take a sup,
Take a sup,
And let not a flincher come near,
And let not a flincher come near.

Oh give me but plenty of liquor,
I'd laugh at the 'squire and the Vicar,
And if I'd a wife, why I'd kick her,
If e'er she pretended to sneer.
Bring the cup, &c.

Though I know it's a heavy disaster,
Yet I mind not the rage of my master,
He bullies, and I drink the faster,
A blessing on brandy and beer.
Bring the cup, &c.

When a cherry cheek'd maid I've an eye on,
I do many things she cries fie on;
Egod, I'm as bold as a lion,
A blessing on brandy and beer.
Bring the cup, &c.

[Page 220]

WOMEN AND WINE.

WHEN Jove was resolv'd to create the round earth,
He sup [...]ena [...]d the virtues divine;
Young Bacchus then sat the gay chairman of mirth,
And the toast was wit, women, and wine.

The sentiment tickled the ear of each God;
Apollo he wink'd to the Nine;
And Venus gave Mars, too, a sly wanton nod,
When she drank to wit, women, and wine.

Great Jove shook his sides, and the cup put around,
While Juno, for once, look'd divine:
These blessings, says he, shall on earth now a­bound,
And the toast is, wit, women, and wine.

These are joys worthy Gods, which to mor­tals are given,
Says Momus: who will not repine?
For what's worth our notice, pray tell me in Heav'n,
If men, have wit, women, and wine.

This joke you'll repent, I'll lay fifty to seven,
Such attractions no power can decline;
Great Jove, by yourself you'll soon keep house in Heav'n,
For we'll follow wit, women, and wine.

[Page 221]

Thou'rt right, says great Jove, let us hence to the Earth,

Men and Gods think variety fine;

Who would stay in the clouds, when good-nature and mirth

Are below, with wit, women, and wine?

BETSEY BLOSSOM.

No more I'll court the town-bred fair,
Who shines in artificial beauty;
Her native charms without compare,
Claim all my love, respect and duty.
Oh! my bonny, bonny Bet, sweet Blossom,
Was I a king so proud to wear thee,
From off the verdant couch I'd bear thee,
To grace thy faithful lover's bosom.

Yet ask me where those beauties lie,
I cannot say in smile or dimple;
In blooming check or radiant eye,
'Tis happy nature wild and simple.
Oh! My bonny Bet, &c.

Let dainty beaux for ladies pine,
And sigh in numbers trite and common;
Ye gods! or darling wish be mine,
And all I ask is lovely woman.
Oh! my bonny Bet, &c.

Come, dearest girl, the rosy bowl,
Like thy bright eye, with pleasure dancing;
My heaven art thou, so take my soul,
With rapture ev'ry sense entrancing.
Oh! my bonny Bet, &c.

[Page 222]

OH EVER IN MY BOSOM LIVE.

SANDY.

OH ever in my bosom live,

Thou source of endless pleasure,

Since nothing else on earth can give,

So dear, so rich a treasure.

BOTH.

O ever in my bosom live,

Thou source of endless pleasure,

Since nothing else on earth can give,

So dear, so rich a treasure.

SANDY.

True love, perhaps may bring alarms,

Or be but loss of reason,

Yet still it adds to Summer's charms,

And cheer's the wint'ry season.

BOTH.

True love, perhaps, &c.

JENNY.

The lustre of the grea [...] and gay,

Is transitory fashion,

While pure and lasting is the ray,

Of unaffected passion.

When danger threats the peasant's cot,

And cruel cares assail it,

Affections smile shall soothe his lot,

Or bid him not bewail it.

SANDY.

[Page 223]

Then let us each on each rely,

A mutual transport borrow,

The slavish forms of life defy,

And artificial sorrow.

JENNY.

Content we'll sport and laugh and sing,

Grow livlier and jocoser,

While time that flies on envious wing,

Shall bind our hearts the closer.

WHEN BIDDEN TO THE WAKE.

WHEN bidden to the wake or fair,
The joy of each free hearted swain,
'Till Phoebe promis'd to be there,
I loiter'd last of all the train.
If chance some fairing caught her eye,
The ribbon gay or silken glove,
With eager haste I ran to buy,
For what is gold compar'd to love.

My posey on her bosom plac'd,
Could Harry's sweeter scene exhale;
Her auburn locks my ribbon grac'd,
And flutter'd in the wanton gale.
With scorn she hears me now complain,
Nor can my rustic presents move;
Her heart prefers a richer swain,
And gold, alas! has bannish'd love.

[Page 224]

JEM OF ABERDEEN.

THE tuneful Lavrocks cheer the grove,
And sweetly smells the summer green,
Now o'er the mead I love to rove,
Wi bonny Jem of Aberdeen
Bonny Jem of Aberdeen,
Bonny Jem of Aberdeen,
Now o'er the mead I love to rove,
Wi bonny Jem of Aberdeen.
When e'er we sit beneath the broom,
Or wander o'er the Lee,
He's always wooing, wooing, wooing,
Always wooing me.

He's fresh and fair as flow'rs in May,
The blithest lad of aw the green;
How sweet the time will pass away,
Wi bonny Jem of Aberdeen.
Bonny Jem, &c.

Wi joy I leave my father's cot,
Wi ilka spot of Glen or Green,
Weel pleas'd to share the humble lot
Of bonny Jem of Aberdeen.
Bonny Jem, &c.

SOOTHING SLEEP.

YET a while, sweat sleep, deceive me,

Fold me in thy downy arms,

Let not care awake to grieve me,

Lull it with thy potent charme.

[Page 225]

On the birth of GEORGE WASHINGTON.

As in a grot reclin'd
Columbia's genius pin'd,
With grief oppress'd,
She wept her fav'rite land,
Wrung by oppression's hand,
Too feeble to withstand
The direful pest.

Dejected droop'd her head—
Thick gloom the scene o'erspread,
Despotic Night!
'Till pitving heav'n gave ear,
To check the gashing tear,
Bade WASHINGTON appear,
"And all was light."

Against his country's foes
The patriot hero rose,
Auspicious hour!
Cloth'd with heav'n's vengeance, he
Crush'd galling Tyranny,
And set his country free
From lawless pow'r.

To hail his Natal day,
Then raise the vocal lay,
With joy sincere;
Re every cheek bedew'd
With tears of gratitude,
To him, the great, the good,
Whom kings revere!

[Page 226]
Great fire of freedom, hail!
Thy virtues shall prevail,
And crush thy foes:
Though demagogues combine,
Envy and malice join,
To tear the wreath's that twine
Thy sacred brows.

Hence! every tongue profane,
Whose slanderous zeal would stain
Thy spotless fame;
Dazzled by worth so bright,
Let baneful party spite
Forever shun the light,
O'erwhelm'd with  [...]me.

Thy fame illustrious sage,
Shall last through every  [...],
Thy deeds have won▪
Thy trophics shall remain,
Unsullied with a stain,
In freedom's sacred fane,
'Till time is done.

Call'd by the public voice,
A free and grateful choice,
To guard the states;
Lo! where the sage presides,
True policy abides,
Consummate wisdom guides
The high debates.

He check'd the raging tide
Of insurrection's pride,
Bade saction cease;
[Page 227]Collected and sedate,
He rode the car of state,
While dangers low'ring fate,
And gave us peace.

But, lo! the chief retires—
No vain ambition fires
His generous breast—
Resigns sublimely great,
His Presidential seat,
And shuns the toils of State
For peace and rest.

To hail his Natal day,
Then raise the vocal lay—
Let joy preside;
May heav'ns best gifts descend,
Long happiness attend,
On him the People's friend,
COLUMBIA's PRIDE.

HAIL COLUMBIA. The Philadelphia Patriotic Song. Tune—President's March.

HAIL COLUMBIA! happy land;
Hail ye heroes! Heav'n born band,
Who fought and bled in freedom's cause,
Who fought and bled in freedom's cause,
And when the storm of war was gone,
Enjoy'd the peace your valor won,
Let Independence be our boast,
Ever mindful what it cost;
[Page 228]Ever grateful for the prize,
Let its altar reach the skies.
Firm—united—let us be,
Rallying round our liberty,
As a band of brothers join'd,
Peace and safety we shall find.

Immortal Patrio [...]! rise once more.
Defend your rights, defend your shore,
Let no rude foe with impious hand,
Let no rude foe with impious hand,
Invade the shrine where sacred lies,
Of toil and blood the well-earn'd prize.
While offering peace, sinrere and just,
In Heaven we place a manly trust,
That truth and justice will prevail,
And every scheme of bondage fail,
Firm—united—let us be, &c.

Sound, sound the trump of fame,
Let WASHINGTON's great name,
Ring through the world with loud applause,
Ring through the world with loud applause,
Let every clime to freedom dear,
Listen with a joyful ear
With equal skill, with godlike power,
He governs in the fearful hour
Of horrid war, or guides with case
The happier times of honest peace.
Firm—united—let us be, &c.

Behold THE CHIEF WHO NOW COMMANDS,
Once more to serve his country stands,
The rock on which the storm will beat,
The rock on which the storm will beat,
[Page 229]But arm'd in virtue, firm and true,
His hopes are fix'd on heav'n and you.
When hope was sinking in dismay,
When glooms obscur'd Columbia's day,
His steady mind from changes free,
Resolv'd on death or liberty.
Fit [...]—united—let us be, &c.

THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION BOYS, AND LIBERTY FOREVER. The New-York Patriotic Song. Tune—Washington's March, & Yankee Doodle.

POETS may sing of their Helicon streams,
Their Gods and their heroes are fabulous dreams;
They ne'er sang a line
Half so grand, so divine,
As the glorious toast
We Columbians boast,
The Federal Constitution boys, and LIBERTY forever.

ADAMS, the man of our choice, guides the helm,
No tempest can harm us, no storm overwhelm:
Our sheet anchor's sure,
And our bark rides secure,
So here's to the toast
We Columbians boast,
The Federal Constitution boys, and President for­ever.

[Page 230]
A free navigation, commerce and trade:
We'll seek for no foe, of no foe be afraid;
Our frigate's shall ride
Our defence and our pride;
Our tars guard our coast,
And huzza to our toast,
The Federal Constitution, Trade, and Commerce, boys forever.
Montgomery, Warren, still live in our longs,
Like them our young heroes shall spurn at our wrongs,
The world shall admire
The zeal and the fire
Which blaze in the toast,
We Columbians boast,
The Federal Constitution, and its Advocates forever.

When an enemy threats all party shall cease,
We bribe no intriguers to buy a mean peace,
Columbians will scorn
Friend or toe to suborn,
We'll ne'er stain the toast
Which as freemen we boast,
The Federal Constitution, and Integrity forever.

Fame's trumpet shall swell in WASHING­TON's praise,
And time grant a furlough to lengthen his days,
May health weave the thread
Of delight round his head;
No nation can boast
Such a name—such a toast—
The Federal Constitution boys, and WASHING­TON forever.

[Page 231]

AMERICAN UNION. Tune—"Rule Rritannia."

WHEN Britain with despotic sway,
Would at her feet our freedom lay,
Would at her, &c.
We rais'd the Standard— to arms, to arms, we cry'd,
Our Patriots fought—they bled, they di'd.
Independent Columbians, they wou'd be,
Resolv'd to perish, or be free.

Great WASHINGTON did then command;
He led the bold Heroic Band,
He led, &c.
They fought and conquer'd—Columbia's Sons were free,
Resolv'd on Death or Liberty.
Independent Columbians, they would be,
Resolv'd to perish, or be free.

When France her struggles first began
For Liberty, the Rights of Man.
For Liberty, &c.
Glowing with ardor—with ardor in her cause,
We scorn'd that Kings should give her laws.
Independent—may Gallia still be free,
They fought at first for Liberty.

But France, you now forget your friend,
Our Amity is at an end.
Our Amity, &c.
You rub our Commerce, insult us on our coast,
Divide and Conquer, is your boast.
Know proud Frenchmen, united we will be,
Resolv'd to perish or be free.

[Page 232]

Shall we to France a tribute pay,

Or at her feet our Freedom lay,

Or at, &c.

Forbid it Heav'n, Columbia's freemen cry,
We will be free or nobly die.
Know proud Frenchmen, united we will be,
Resolv'd on Death or Liberty.

United then with heart and hand,
Our Constitution firm shall stand,
Our Constitution, &c.

Then raise the standard, let this your motto be,
Our Father's fought, and so will we.
Hail Columbians, united we will be,
Like them we'll conquer and be free.

DEATH OR LIBERTY. Tune—Rule Britannia.

WHEN our great Sires this land explor'd,
A shelter from tyrannic wrong!
Led on by heav'ns Almighty Lord,
They sung—and acted well the song,
Rise, united! dare be freed!
Our sons shall vindicate the deed.

In vain the region, they would gain,
Was distant, dreary, undisclos'd,
In vain th' Atlantic roar'd between,
And hosts of savages oppos'd,
They rush'd undaunted, heav'n decreed
Their sons should vindicate the deed.

[Page 233]
'Twas freedom led the vet'rans forth,
And manly fortitude to bear,
They toil'd, they vanquish'd such high worth,
Is always heav'ns peculiar care;
Their great example still inspires,
Nor dare we act beneath our sires.

'Tis ours undaunted to defend
The dear bought, rich inheritance:
And spite of each invading hand,
We'll fight, bleed, die! in its defence.
Pursue our father's path to fame,
And emulate their glorious flame.

As the proud oak inglorious stands,
'Till storms, and thunder root it fast,
So stood our new, unpractis'd bands,
'Till Britain roar'd her stormy blast:
Then her they vanquish'd, fierce led on
By FREEDOM and great WASHINGTON.

Hail, godlike hero! born to save!
Ne'er shall thy deathless laurels fade,
But on that brow, eternal wave,
And consecrate blest Vernon's shade.
Thy spreading glories still increase,
'Till earth, and time, and nature cease.

Oh! may that spirit on thee shed,
COLUMBIA's truest, noblest friend!
On thy successor's honor'd head,
In copious, double show'rs descend!
This charge to ADAMS be consign'd;
Be thou the second of mankind.

[Page 234]
So when ELIJAH, call'd to heav'n,
Up in flaming chariot rode,
ELISHA took the mantle giv'n,
And rose a prophet—or a god!
Then shout great ADAMS! freedom's son!
Immortal heir of WASHINGTON.

CHIEFTAINS OF COLUMBIA.

YE Chieftains of Columbia, your forces mar­shal out,
'Tis time you make inquiry what these French­men are about;
Your flag has been insulted, your commerce has been stopt;
Your citizens are plundered, and into prison popp'd.
Yankee Doodle, mind the tune,
Yankee Doodle dandee;
If Frenchmen come, with naked bum,
We'll spank 'em hard and handy.

Your ministers degraded, your Senate they condemn;
They say no treaties you shall make but what's approv'd by them:
Will you who fought so bravely, and bled in freedom's cause,
Now tamely sit and suffer France to trample on your laws?
Yankee Doodle, &c.

[Page 235]
They say they gave you freedom, and call you all ingrates;
For by their valor you were made the inde­pendent States:
We know they join'd Columbia, and call'd themselves our friends,
As well we know their plan was laid to answer their own ends.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

But let me ask how, when, and where those Frenchmen set you free?
Was it their conquest made by land, or vic­tory gain'd by sea?
When lord Cornwallis yielded, I will admit their fleet,
By laying off the harbor, prevented his retreat.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

Ye advocates for Frenchmen, what can you more advance,
To prove your independence originates from France?
The Count D'Estang at Georgia was glad to make retreat.
And by a force inferior confess'd his own de­feat.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

When Burgoyne and his army were forc'd to own your sway,
The Yankee Boys alone shar'd the honors of the day.
[Page 236]Should any dare assert that France by victory gain'd at sea,
Secur'd your independence and set Columbia free.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

Tell them of Count de Grasse's fall, and quick the charge deny,
Or from the shades old Rodney's ghost will thunder out "you lie."
I say Columbia's glory, which she this day en­joys,
Was gain'd by General WASHINGTON, who led the Yankee boys.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

Then shall your Senate be reproach'd, your citizens oppress'd,
Your ministers degraded, your swords in scab­bards rest?
Say, shall your Eagle's wings be clipt, your stars' great lustre fade,
And shall Columbia's stripes no more with honor be displayed?
Yankee Doodle, &c.

Arise ye sons of freedom Columbia's rights maintain,
Brave WASHINGTON you'll find prepared to wield the sword again.
Then raise your standard, draw your sword, prepare the pointed lance,
Evince your Constitution shall ne'er be sway'd by France.
[Page 237]May wisdom guide your commerce, and jus­tice never cease,
To shield Columbia's glory, till victory brings you PEACE.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

TO ARMS.

HARK! The clarion's shrill alarms,
Strike to the soul of slumb'ring thought,
Whereon downy pillow laid,
Of soft delicate peace, it stray'd
In fancied dreams of innocence and ease;
Too long secure in flattering friendship's shade,
Too long for confidence, with fraud repaid,
Aroused, it calls aloud, "To arms;"
Quick the forc'd appeal is caught;
Down the labourer throws his spade,
And seizes on his trusty blade;
The injured citizens their labours cease,
And private interest awhile neglect,
Their own and country's honor to protect.

Loud the guardian Eagle screams,
And soaring high on thund'ring wing,
Beckons all her honest brood,
To union for the public good.
Her wide spread pinions mark her firm de­sire
To shelter all who round her banners range,
To guard her freedom from the threatened change.
Mark, how her fiery eyeball gleams!
[Page 238]Her anger'd shrieks the welkin wrung;
Alarm'd, no more  [...] eastern rays
She welcomes with enraptur'd gaze,
But eyes them light'ning with ensanguin'd fire,
With war's fell ravage, threat'ning wide dis­may,
Her plains, her cities, marking as the prey.

Yet firm as WASHINGTON's great soul,
She views with unblech'd eye the storm
Which ADAMS now in virtues pride,
A second time is doom'd to guide.
She only fears her unsuspecting sons,
Too uninstructed in the world's deceit,
In ranks defensi [...] may delay to meet.
Then let the drum its thunders roll,
Let the tr [...]ets clangor warm
Each heart that ever glow'd with fire,
Which independence could inspire;
Quick the deluding hour of safety runs,
Our danger's near, list! list! our country's call,
Prepar'd we vanquish, unprepar'd we fall.

THE WAY TO AVOID WAR.

COLUMBIANS all, the present hour,
As brothers should unite us;
Union at home's the only way,
To make each nation right us.
Yankee Doodle, guard your coast,
Yankee Doodle dandy;
Fear not then, nor threat, nor boast,
Yankee Doodle, dandy.

[Page 239]
The only way to keep off war,
And guard 'gainst persecution,
Is always to be well prepar'd,
With hearts of resolution.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

Great WASHINGTON, who led us on,
And liberty effected,
Shall see we'll die, or else be free;
We will not be subjected.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

A band of brothers let us be,
While ADAMS guides the nation;
And still our dear-bought freedom guard,
In every situation.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

May soon the wish'd for hour arrive,
When peace shall rule the nations;
And commerce, free from fetters prove
Mankind are all relations.
Yankee Doodle, &c.

ALL FOR A SONG.

A SONG, a song, is the cry of mankind,
All know what to singing belongs;
'Tis interest governs us all you will find,
And gives us the pitch of our songs.

The miser with riches, who's never content,
Can tell what is right or is wrong,
For he joins in the chorus of twenty per cent,
And owns it a very good song.

[Page 240]

Behold next the merchant, the federal lad,

Who hopes that the union is strong,

But says it is money that makes the heart glad,

And hammers away with a song.

The merchant is punctual—to see himself paid,
And wishes for credit that's long,
Yet strike up the ditty of commerce and trade,
How quickly he joins in the song.

The lawyer and parson do know very well,
The things that to singing belong,
One fingers the fee, ere a word he can tell,
One "turns off his flock with a song.

And WASHINGTON too, the hero and sage,
To heaven he carols this song:—
"The blessings which thou to Columbia gave,
"Oh heaven! I pray thee prolong."
[figure]

[Page]

[figure]

APPENDIX: CONTAINING THE MOST CELEBRATED MASONIC SONGS.

ORIGIN OF MASONRY.
[Sung to the tune King Solomon.]

E'ER time's great machine was in motion,
Or light had emitted a ray;
Enwomb'd in the bowels of Chaos,
All nature in embryo lay;
Till the word of the Great Architector
Bid matter approach to the birth:
Then his hand spread the etherial blue curtain,
And moulded the solid round earth.

From the chaos of mankind selected.
A qualified, fraternal band,
[Page 242] By affection and honour cemented,
The Masonic Order shall stand.

But still did a veil of thick darkness
The face of creation invest;
'Till the omnific word of the Master
Bid light to burst forth from the East;
And instant the Sun, in full splendor,
Obey'd the potential behest;
And the Moon, in unclouded effulgence,
Display'd her fair orb in the West.

Selected from darkness and ign'rance,
By mysteries deep and divine,
Illumin'd by mental effulgence,
The Masonic Order shall staine.

In order the bright constellations,
Through space, ad infinitum shone;
Instarr'd with its signs, the broad Zod'ac
Begirt the fair heav'ns like a zone.
Then all the bright orbs, and their systems,
Composing one uniform whole,
Round their axis, and primary centers,
In mystical motion did roll.

All taught by the most refin'd order,
In one friendly circle to move;
And tending to one gen'ral center,
The Ladge stands cemen [...]d in love.

The work thus completed, the Muses
All harmony's pow'rs did employ;
Aloud all the sons of God snouted,
And clapp'd then pure hands with new joy;

[Page 243]

Their goblets all charg'd with rich nectar,

High rais'd in their hands when they sung,

While with rounds to the grand Architector,

The Arch through immensity rung.

Then, brethren, charge! charge all your glasses;
The sentiment echo along;
United, let's join to commem'rate
The harmony, mirth, and the song.

Hence, man, taught geometry, motion,
The musical pow'rs so divine!
The circle, the rules of proportion,
The square, and the uncerring line,
On the face of rude unadorn'd nature,
Caus'd cities and temples to rise;
His barks plow'd the billowy waters:
His songs mounted up to the skies.
Hail, Masonry—hail! which descended,
With music and arts from on high:
Thy existence, with these, shall be blendid,
'Till arts and the muses shall die.

ROYAL ARCH SONG.

ALMIGHTY Sire! our heavenly king,
Before whose sacred name we bend,
Accept the praises which we sing,
And to our humble prayer attend!
All hail great Architect divine!
This universal frame is thine.
Thou who didst Persia's King command,
A proclamation to extend,
[Page 244]That Israel's sons might quit his land,
Their holy temple to attend.

That sacred place where three in one,
Compris'd thy comprehensive name;
And where the bright meridian sun
Was soon thy glory to proclaim.

[Tune, In Infancy, &c.]

LET Masonry from pole to pole
Her sacred laws expand,
Far as the mighty waters roll,
To wash remotest land;
That virtue has not left mankind,
Her social maxims prove,
For stamp'd upon the Mason's mind,
Is Unity and Love.

Ascending to her native sky,
Let Masonry increase;
A glorious pillar rais'd on high,
Integrity its base.
Peace adds to o [...]e boughs, entwin'd,
An emblematic dove,
As stamp'd upon the Mason's mind,
Is Unity and Love.

Maybe sung to the Tune, Rule Britannia.

 [...] God the Universe began,
In one  [...] hea [...] all matter lay,
[Page 245]Which wild disorder overran,
Nor knew of light one glimmering my;
While, in darkness o'er the whole,
Confusion reign'd without control,
Then God arose, his thunders hurl'd,
And bade the Elements arise;
In Air he hung the pendant World,
And o'er it spread the azure Skies;
Stars in circles caus'd to run,
And in the centre fix'd the Sun.

Then man he call'd forth out of dust,
And form'd him with a living soul;
All things committed to his trust,
And made him Lord of all, the whole;
But ungrateful unto Heaven
He prov'd, and was from Eden driven.

From thence proceeded all our woes,
Nor could mankind one comfort share;
Until Free Masons greatly rose,
And form'd another Eden here;
Where true Pleasure ever reigns,
And native innocence remains.

Here crystal fountains bubbling flow,
Here nought that's vile can enter in;
The Tree of knowledge here does grow,
Whose fruit we taste, yet free from Sin▪
While sweet Friendship does abound,
And guardian Angels hover round.

[Page 246]

[Tune, Sweet are the charms, &c.]

HAIL Masonry! thou craft divine!
Glory of earth, from heav'n reveal'd,
Which doth with jewels pre [...]ious shine,
From all but mason's eyes conceal'd!
Thy praises due who can rehearse,
In nervous prose or flowing verse?

As men from brutes distinguish'd are,
A mason other men excels;
For what's in knowledge choice and rare,
But in his breast securely dwells?
His silent breast and faithful heart
Preserve the secrets of the art.

From scorching heat and piercing cold,
From beasts whose roar the forest rends,
From the assaults of warriors bold,
The masons' art mankind defends.
Be to this art due honour paid,
From which mankind receives such aid.

Ensigns of state, that feed our pride,
Distinctions troublesome and vain,
By masons true are laid aside.
Art's free-born sons such toys disdain.
Ennobled by the name they bear,
Distinguish'd by the badge they wear.

Sweet fellowship, from envy free,
Friendly converse of brotherhood,
The lodge's lasting cement be,
Which has for ages firmly stood▪
A lodge thus built for ages past
Has lasted and shall ever last.

[Page 247]
Then in our songs be justice done
To those who have enrich'd the art,
From Adam to *—down,
And set each brother beat a part.
Let noble masons' healths go round,
Their praise in lofty lodge resound.

THE REVIVAL OF MASONRY.
Tune—Vicar of Bray.

WHEN Masonry expiring lay, by knaves and fools rejected,
Without one hope, one cheering ray, by worth­less sons neglected;
 [...]ir virtue fled, truth hung her head, or'er­whelm'd in deep confusion,
Sweet friendship too, her smiles withdrew, from this blest institution.
Now this is law, I will maintain, until my dying day sir,
That institution e'er may reign, Masonry bears the sway sir,

Columbia's sons determin'd then, Free Masonry to cherish,

They rous'd her into life again, and bid fair science flourish;

Now virtue bright, truth rob'd in white, with friendship hither hasten,

All go hand in hand, to bless the band of true Columbian Masons.

For this is law, &c.

[...]

[Page 254]

[...]

[Page 249]Assembled on merry occasion:

Let's be happy and sing,

For Life is a spring

To a Free and an Accepted Mason.

The world is in pain
Our secrets to gain,
And still let them wonder and gaze on:
They ne'er can divine
The word or the sign
Of a Free and an Accepted Mason.

Tis this and tis that,
They cannot tell what,
Nor why the great men of the nation
Should aprons put on,
And make themselves one
With a Free and an Accepted Mason.

Great Kings, Dukes, and Lords,
Have laid by their swords,
Our myst'ry to put a good grace on,
Tnd ne'er been asham'd
Ao hear themselves nam'd
With a Free and an Accepted Mason.

Antiquity's pride
We have on our side,
To keep up our old reputation:
There's nought but what's good
To be understood
By a Free and an Accepted Mason.

We're true and sincere,
And just to the Fair;
[Page 250]They'll trust us on any occasion:
No mortal can more
The Ladies adore,
Than a Free and an Accepted Mason.

Then join hand in hand,
By each Brother firm stand,
Let's be merry and put a bright face on:
What mortal can boast
So noble a toast
As a Free and an Accepted Mason.
No mortal can boast Three times.
So noble a toast Three times.
As a Free and an Accepted Mason. Three times.

[Tune—Rural Felicity.]

YE dull stupid mortals give o'er your conjec­tures,
Since Free Masons' secrets ye ne'er can ob­tain;
The bible and compass are our sure directors,
And shall be as long as this world shall re­main.
Here friendship inviting,
Here freedom delighting,
Our moments in innocent mirth we employ:
Come see Masons' felicity,
Working and singing with hearts full of joy.

No other society that you can mention,
Which has been, is now, or hereafter shall be,
However so laudable i [...] its intention,
It cannot compare with divine Masonry.
[Page 251]No envy, no quarrels,
Can here blast our laurels,
No passion our pleasure can ever annoy:
Come see, &c.

To aid one another we always are ready,
Our rites and our secrets we carefully guard;
The Lodge to support, we like pillars are steady,
No Babel confusion our work can retard.
Ye mortals come hither,
Assemble together,
And taste of those pleasures which never can cloy.
Come see, &c.

We are to the master forever obedient,
Whenever he calls, to the lodge we repair;
Experience has taught us that 'tis most expe­dient
To live within compass, and act on the square,
Let mutual agreement
Be Free Masons' cement,
Until the whole Universe time shall destroy:
Come see, &c.

KING Solomon that wise projector,
In Masonry took great delight:
And Hiram, that great architector,
Whose actions shall ever shine bright:
[Page 252]From the heart of a true honest M [...]on
There's none can the secret remove;
Our maxims are justice, morality,
Friendship and brotherly love.
Then who would not be a Free-Mason,
So happy and social are we;
To all honest men we are brothers,
And in every Lodge we are free.

We meet like true friends on the level,
And lovingly part on the square;
Alike we respect king and beggar,
Provided they're just and sincere.
We scorn an ungenerous action,
None can with Free Masons compare;
We love for to live within compass,
By rules that are honest and fair.
Then who, &c.

We exclude all talkative fellows,
That will babble and prate past their wit,
They ne'er shall come into our secret,
For they're neither worthy nor fit;
But the person that's well recommended,
And we find him honest and true,
When our lodge is well tyl'd we'll prepare him,
And, like Masons, our work we'll pursue.
Then who, &c.

Success to all accepted Masons,
There's none can their honor pull down;
For e'er since the glorious creation
These great men are held in renown:
[Page 253]When Adam was king of all nations,
He formed a plan with all speed;
And soon made a fit habitation,
For him and his companion Eve.
Then who, &c.

There's some foolish people reject us,
For which they are highly to blame,
They cannot shew any objection,
Or reason for doing the same.
The art's a divine inspiration,
As all honest men will declare.
So here's to all true hearted brothers,
That live within compass and square.
Then who, &c.

Like an arch well cemented together,
Thus firmly united we stand,
And justly support one another;
With plumb line and level in hand.
'Till the world is consumed by fire,
And judgment is pass'd on us all;
They ne'er shall come into our secret,
Or we from Free-Masonry fall.
Then who, &c.

[Tune—Goddess of Ease.]

GENIUS of Masonry descend,
And with thee bring thy spotless train;
Do thou our sacred rites attend,
While we adore thy peaceful reign;
[Page 254]Bring with thee Virtue, brightest maid,
Bring love, bring truth, and friendship here;
Let social mirth too lend her aid,
To smooth the wrinkled brow of Care.

Let charity with goodness crown'd,
Encircled in her Heav'nly robe,
Diffuse thy blessings all around,
To ev'ry corner of the globe.
See where she comes with pow'er to bless,
Grasping in either hand a heart,
Which wounded is at man's distress,
And bleeds at ev'ry human smart.

Tho' envy mischiefs may devise,
Tho' falsehood be thy constant foe,
Thou Masonry shall tow'ring rise,
And sink thy adversaries low:
Thy well built pile shall long endure,
Thro' rolling years preserve its prime;
It stands upon a rock secure,
And braves the rude assaults of time.

Ye happy few, who here extend
In perfect lines from east to west,
With fervent zeal the lodge defend,
And lock its secrets in your breast.
Since ye are me upon the square,
Bid love and friendship jointly reign;
Be peace and harmony your care;
They form an adamantine chain.

In order see the planets move,
Directed by the hand divine;
[Page 255]Then imitate those lights above,
And as the sun resplendent shine:
That future Masons when they meet,
May all our glorious deeds rehearse,
And say their fathers were so great,
That they adorn'd the universe.

'TIS Masonry unites mankind,
To generous actions forms the soul;
So strict in union we're combin'd,
One spirit animates the whole.
Then let mankind our deeds approve,
Since union, harmony, and love
Shall waft us to the realms above.

Where'er aspiring domes arise,
Wherever sacred alters stand,
Those alters blaze up to the skies.
Those domes proclaim the Mason's hand.

The stone unshap'd as lumber lies,
Till Mason's art its form refines;
So passions do our soul disguise,
Till social virtue calms our minds.

Let wretches at our manhood rail;
But th [...]  [...]ho once our judgment prove,
Will own, that we who build so well,
With equal energy can love.

Though still our chief concern and care,
Be to deserve a brother's name;
Forever mindful of the fair,
Their choicest favours still we claim.

[Page 256]

From us pale discord long has fled,

With all her train of mortal spite;

Nor in our lodge dares shew her head,

Sunk in the gloom of endless night.

My brethen charge your glasses high,
To our grand master's noble name:
Our shouts shall beat the vaulted sky,
And every tongue his praise proclaim.

A MASON'S daughter fair and young,
The pride of all the village throng,
Thus to her lover said;
Tho' Damon I your flame approve,
Your actions praise, your person love,
Yet still I'll live a maid.

None shall untie my virgin zone,
But one to whom the secret's known,
Of fam'd Free Masonry;
In which the great and good combine,
To raise with generous design,
Man to felicity.

The lodge excludes the fop and fool;
The plodding knave and party tool,
That liberty would sell;
The noble, faithful, and the brave,
No golden charms can e'er deceive,
In slavery to dwell.

This said, he bow'd and went away,
Apply'd, was made without delay,
Return'd to her again;
[Page 257]The fair one granted his request,
Connubial joys their days have blest,
And may they e'er remain.

To Mason's and to Mason's bairns,
And women with both wit and charms,
That love to lie in Masons' arms.

[Tune—In Infancy.]

HAIL Masonry! thou sacred art,
Of origin divine!
Kind partner of each social heart,
And fav'rite of the Nine!
By thee we're taught our acts to square,
To measure life's short span;
And each infirmity to bear
That's incident to man.
By thee, &c.

Though envy's tongue would blast thy fame,
And simple ignorance sneer,
Yet still thy ancient honour'd name
To each true Brother's dear:
Then strike the blow, to charge prepare,
In this we all agree,
May freedom be each Mason's care,
And every Mason free.
Then strike the blow, &c.

[Tune, Hearts of Oak]

No sect in the world can with Masons compare,
So ancient, so noble's the badge that they wear,
[Page 258]That all other Orders, however esteem'd,
Inferior to Masonry far has been deem'd.

We always are free,
And for ever agree;
Supporting each other,
Brother helps Brother,
No Mortals on earth are so friendly as we.

When first attick fire Mortals' glory became,
Tho' small was the spark, it soon grew to a flame;
As Phoebus celestial transcendently bright,
It spread o'er the world a fresh torrent of light.
We always, &c.

The greatest of Monarchs, the wisest of Men,
Free Masonry honour'd again and again;
And Nobles have quitted all other delights
With joy to preside o'er our mystical rites.
We always, &c.

Tho' some may pretend we've no Secrets to know,
Such idle opinions their ignorance show;
While others, with raptures, cry out, they're reveal'd,
In Free Masons' bosoms they still lie conceal'd.
We always, &c.

Coxcomical Pedants may say what they can,
Abuse us, ill use us, and laugh at our plan,
We'll temper our mortar, enliven our souls,
And join in a chorus o'er full flowing bowls.
We always, &c.

[Page 259]
COME, come, my brethren dear,
Now we're assembled here,
Exalt your voices clear,
With harmony.
There's none shall be admitted in.
Were he a Lord, a Duke, or King,
He's counted but an empty thing,
Except he's free.

Then let ev'ry man take glas [...] in hand,
Drink bumpers to our Master Grand,
As long as he can sit or stand,
With decency.

By our arts we prove,
Emblems of truth and love,
Types given from above,
To those who are free.
There's not a King who fills a throne,
Will ever be asham'd to own,
Those secrets to the world unknown,
But such as we.
Then let, &c.

Now ladies try your arts,
To gain us men of parts.
Who best can charm your hearts,
Because we are free.
Then take us, try us, and you'll find
We're true and loving, just and kind,
And taught to please a lady's mind,
By Masonry.
Then let, &c.

[Page 260]

Great WASHINGTON, long may he reign,

To curb the pride of foes that's vain,

Long may his conquering sword maintain,

Free Masonry. Then let, &c.

[Tune—Belleisle March]

IN Hist'ry we're told, how the Lodges of old
Arose in the East, and shone forth like the Sun;
But all must agree, that divine Masonry
Commenc'd when the glorious creation be­gun:
With glory divine, oh, long may'st thou shine,
Thou choicest of blessings, deriv'd from above!
Then charge bumpers high, and with shouts rend the sky,
To Masonry, Friendship, and Brotherly love.
With glory divine, &c.

Judea's great King, whose vast praises we sing,
With wisdom contriv'd while the temple he plann'd;
The mysterious art then took place in each heart,
And Hiram with Solomon went hand in hand:
While each royal name was recorded in fame,
Their works, Earth and Heaven did jointly approve;
Then charge bumpers high, and with shouts rend the sky,
To Masonry, Friendship, and Brotherly Love.
While each royal, &c.

[Page 261]
Then Masons were true, and the Craft daily grew;
They liv'd within Compass, and work'd by the Square;
In friendship they dwelt, no ambition they felt,
Their deeds were upright, and their con­sciences clear;
On this noble plan, Free Masons began,
To help one another they mutually strove;
Then charge bumpers high, and with shouts rend the sky
To Masonry, Friendship, and Brotherly love.
On this noble plan, &c.

Those maxims pursue, and your passions sub­due,
And imitate those worthy Masons of yore;
Fix a Lodge in each breast, be fair virtue your guest,
Let wisdom preside, and let truth tile the door.
So shall we arise, to an immortal prize,
In that blissful Lodge, which no time can remove;
Then charge bumpers high, and with shouts rend the sky,
To Masonry, Friendship, and Brotherly Love.
So shall we arise, &c.

WAKE the lute and quiv'ring strings,
Mystic truths Urania brings:
Friendly visitant, to thee
We owe the depths of MASONRY;
Fairest of the virgin choir,
Warbling to the golden lyre,
[Page 262]Welcome here, thy art prevail,
Hail! divine Urania, hail!

Here in Friendship's sacred bow'r,
The downy-wing'd, and smiling hour,
Mirth invites and social song,
Nameless mysteries among:
Crown the bowl, and fill the glass,
To ev'ry virtue, ev'ry grace;
To the BROTHERHOOD resound
Health, and let it thrice go round.

We restore the times of old,
The blooming glorious age of gold;
As the new creation free,
Blest with gay Euphrosyne:
We with godlike science talk,
And with fair Astrea walk;
Innocence adorns the day,
Brighter than the smiles of May.

Pour the rosy wine again,
Wake a louder, louder strain;
Rapid zephyrs, as ye fly,
Waft our voices to the sky;
While we celebrate the Nine,
And the wonders of the Trine.
While the Angels sing above,
As we below, of peace and love.

HAIL to the CRAFT! at whose serene com­mand,
The gentle ARTS in glad obedience stand:
Hail, sacred MASONRY! of source divine,
Unerring sov'reign of the unerring  [...]ine▪
[Page 263]Whose Plumb of Truth, with never failing sway,
Makes the join'd parts of symmetry obey:
Whose magic stroke bids fell confusion cease,
And to the finish'd ORDERS give a place:
Who rears vast structures from the womb of earth,
And gives imperial cities glorious birth.

To works of art HER merit not confin'd,
SHE regulates the morals, squares the mind:
Corrects with care the sallies of the soul,
And points the tide of passions where so roll;
On Virtue's tablet marks HER moral rule,
And forms her Lodge an Universal School;
Where Nature's mystic laws unfolded stand,
And Sense and Science join'd, go hand in hand.

O may HER social rules instructive spread,
Till Truth erect HER long neglected  [...]ead!
Till thro' deceitful night SHE darts HER ray,
And beam full glorious in the blaze of day!
Till men by virtuous maxims learn to move,
Till all the peopled world HER laws approve,
And Adam's race are bound in brother's love.

"O WHAT a happy thing it is,
Brethren to dwell in unity;"
Whilst every action's squar'd by this,
The true base-line of Masonry,
Our plumb-rule fixed to the point
The angle of uprightness shews;
From side to side, from joint to joint,
By steps the stately mansion rose.

[Page 264]
Whate'er the order or the plan,
The parts will with the whole agree:
For, by a geometric man,
The work is done in symmetry.
From east to west, from north to south,
Far as the foaming billows run;
Faith, hope, and silver-braided truth,
Shall stamp with worth their Mason son.

But, chiefest, come, sweet charity,
Meek, tender, hospitable guest;
Aided by those, inspir'd by thee,
How tranquil is the Mason's breast:
And olive branch thy fore-head binds,
The gift that peerless prudence gave:
An emblem of congenial minds,
And such Masonic brethren have.

HERE social love serenely smiles,
Soft harmony inspires the breast,
Music the weight of care beguiles,
And lulls each gloomy thought to rest.

Come dove-ey'd peace, thou heav'nly guest,
And concord, attribute divine!
Reside within each Mason's breast,
Their hearts with sacred union join.

Thus long shall stand our noble art,
Hid deep within each faithful breast,
We feel its influence on the heart,
Therefore we say—probatum est

[Page 265]
So much of Masonry's been sung,
Its praise resounds from tongue to tongue;
Its light remotest isles explore,
Its fame rebounds from shore to shore.
Now in full chorus let us join,
To hail great Masonry divine.

First in the east the light did rise,
It now shines bright in western skies;
While wond'ring nations loud daclare,
The power of compass and of square.
Now in, &c.

When war pours forth her hostile band,
We rear the bulwarks of the land;
Nor even stops our glory there:
We draw our swords to shield the fair.
Now in, &c.

Fair science reigns within our walls,
We aid misfortune when she calls:
While justice, love and pity shine;
To prove our mystic art divine.
Now in, &c.

Let wand'ring cowans rail in vain,
Our myst'ries they shall ne'er obtain;
Our secrets shan't to them be known;
Who ne'er have power to keep their own.
Now in, &c.

[Page 266]

BACCHUS open all thy treasure,

Let sweet music charm the ear;

Love cements us all together,

Sons of Hiram welcome here.

Vulgar, base and sordid wretches,
May deride us, what care we;
Slander write malignant sketches,
By the fruit we know the tree.

Come my brothers, love unites us,
Come let beauty be our toast;
Here's to her that can delight us,
The charming fair we prize the most.

Let us join our hands together,
May peace and love the cement be;
Charge your glasses, prime together,
Here's a health to Masons free.

[Page]

TOASTS & SENTIMENTS.

THE American Flag—may every nation respect its bearers—may the radiance of its stars shed a lustre over its friends, but its stripes lacerate the backs of its enemies.

The union of these free, sovereign, and independent states—may it prove most firm, when most tried.

The American Eagle. Under the protecting influence of its fostering wing, we trust our fate to Heaven—but, when its offered olive branch is spurned by the haughty mandate of imperious villains, quickly may the thunderbolt of its vengeance, be hurled on their devoted heads.

The President of the United States—born to achieve and defend the liberties of his Country, obstacles serve only to invigorate, and dangers to strengthen the native energies of his heroic mind.

The President—"Some other hand must be found to sign the ignominious deed, that would surrender the sovereignty of his country."

[Page 268]George Washington—may we in the last resort, convince France, and the world, that every village in our country will afford its Pichegrue, every hamlet its Buonaparte, and a Washington to lead them to victory and fame.

General Washington—"His name a rampart, and the knowledge that he lives a bulwark against all open and secret enemies of his country's peace."

The Congress of the United States—while genius, eloquence and judgment preside, as they have done over our national councils, we may with justice sneer at the bombastic threats of our enemies.

Our late Envoys Extraordinary to France—may we adopt their noble sentiments, that we had better expend the who [...]e resources of our country, than surrender one cent as the price of National degradation and dishonor.

The Patriots of America, whose blood was shed at the Altar of Liberty. May the sons never lose the fire of their fathers to preserve those blessings transmitted to them.

The Soldiery of the United States—may they never want spirit to resent the injuries done, or insults offered their country, ardor to pursue to victory, nor mercy to adorn their conquests.

[Page 269]The Navy of the United States—may its early and insantine achievements prognosticate its future glory and success.

The gallant Youth of America—may they justly appreciate the fair inheritance transmitted to them by their ancestors.

The honest American. May he never forget, that one humiliation invariably produces another, and that the only means to preserve honorable peace, is to discover a readiness and promptitude for necessary war.

The Cincinnati throughout America—may they continue in a fixed resolution to maintain, and transmit unimpaired, that independence for which they have braved every danger.

The liberal Clergy—may they be united, and persevere in opposing the enemies of God and their Country.

The Fair Sex—may their arms prove our sweetest refuge in adversity, and their smiles the truest antidote to care.

Agriculture, Commerce, and Manufactures—the boon of industry, renumerating its patrons.

The just, the good, and the virtuous of all nations— may their influence restore the moral principles of society, debased and degraded by modern atheistical philosophy.

[Page 270]Republicanism—may its name be no longer abused to sanction crimes, at which despotism would blush.

May a just resentment of an elightened people fall upon all disorganizers of our happy government.

Arts, Science, and virtue, to civilize the savage, and to stay the retrogression of the civilized.

Peace to all the world—when we can sit under our vines and our own fig-trees, and enjoy unmolested the fruit of our labors.

The sentiments of the day—"Millions for defence, but not a cent for tribute."

The enemies of our administration—we wish them no greater punishment than to be the wretched spectators of the zeal, animation, and affection of its friends.

The first duties of a good citizen—reverence for the laws, and respect for the magistracy.

May tyranny and oppression, under the sacred name of liberty, never be countenanced in the detestable views of enslaving the free and virtuous sons of United America.

Gratitude to our friends, and generosity to our enemies.

May the poor merit esteem, and the rich veneration.

May the volume of beauty never be stained by contaminated fingers.

[Page 271]May religion and politics slow from upright and liberal principles.

May the cheerful heart never want an agreeable companion.

May virtue shine when every other light is out.

May the honey of rectitude sweeten the bitterness of sorrow.

May the heart never covet what the hand has no right to.

May the smiles of the fair reward the efforts of the brave.

May virtue in distress always meet a liberal protector.

May fortune fill the lap where charity guides the hand.

The voyage of life, may it end in the haven of happiness.

May the duties of social life never give way to selfishness.

Religion without bigotry, and remorse without despair.

Reason in our actions, religion in our thoughts, and reflection in our expressions.

The unity of hearts in the union of hands.

Success without a check to the arms of the Free:

Serenity to every breast that beats with phila [...] thropy.

[Page 272]The gate of life—may it never be shut age the honest.

The lovers of virtue in the arms of beauty.

Society's surest cement—temperance and modesty.

The fruit of good deeds to the winter of our lives.

The man we prize and the maid we love.

The sunshine of plenty to the retreat of goodness.

Valor without cruelty, and virtue without hypocrisy.

The friendly bosom—may it never want a friend.

May friendship smile on our cups, and content on our minds.

Wit without virulence, wine without excess, and wisdom without affectation.

Warmth to every heart in a good cause.

Youth without violence, and old age without virulence.

Prosperity to the liberty of the press in asserting the rights of the people—confusion to it when it descends to licentiousness.

Plenty to the heart expanded by generosity.

May the examples of evil produce good, and reward, effect that reformation to which punishment has been ineffectual.

Reason—may it be enthroned a supreme monarch, and our passions subject to his laws.

[Page 273]Cupid's magic ring on the middle finger.

Freedoms triumvirate—love, wine, and liberty.

When anger clouds the brow, may forgiveness rule in the heart.

The moments of mirth—may they be regulated by the dial of reason.

May the heart that achs at the sight of sorrow always be blest with means to relieve it.

The friends of distress—may they never know want or sorrow.

May the wreath of victory ever flourish on the brow of liberty.

The lovers of liberty—may they never want the comforts of life.

May the presence of the fair curb the wish of the licentious.

May we look forward with pleasure, and back without remorse.

Pleasures that please on reflection.

May fortune resemble the bottle and bowl—and stand by the man who cannot stand by himself.

When wine enlivens the heart, let friendship surround the bottle.

[...]ay we never, by overleaping the bounds of prudence, trespass upon the bosom of friendship.

[Page 274]The bud of affection—may it be ripened by the sunshine of sincerity.

When honour is to be decided by the sword, may it never find the way to the heart.

May he who has spirit to resent a wrong, have a heart to forgive it.

The gifts of the gods—a handsome wife, a steady friend, and sound claret.

May the wings of love never receive a moulting thro' the means of a severe reprimand.

In the choice of professions may that of friendship be the surest of success.

What vice gains by traffic, may she lose on her voyage home.

Industry—may it always be rewarded as the favorite of fortune.

May all civil distinctions among men be founded on public utility.

May neither precedent nor antiquity be a sanction to errors pernicious to mankind

Absalom's end to the fomenters of public mischief.

Cork to the heels, cash to the pockets, courage to the hearts, and concord to the heads of all the friends to the United States of America.

May our wants never proceed from negligences of our own creation.

When love attacks the heart may honour be the proposer of a truce.

[Page 275]May the civil power never interpose between the conscience of man and his Maker.

The Americans—may they be as averse to invading the rights of others, as zealous in maintaining their own.

May the morality of individuals, prove the policy of nations.

Community of goods, unity of hearts, nobility of sentiments, and truth of feelings, to the real lovers of the fair sex.

Envy in an air-pump without a passage to breathe through.

Goodness in our thoughts, gentleness in our words, and generosity in our actions.

Honour in our breasts and humanity in our hands.

Hope and happiness in every state of life.

May the eye that drops for the misfortune of others never shed a tear for its own.

Liberty—may it never degenerate into licentiousness.

All we wish and all we want.

Beauty without affectation, and merit without conceit.

[Page 276]Innocence to the rising generation—and may a good conscience be the companion of their lives.

May a joke never be forestalled with a laugh.

May we never float on the waves of ignorance.

May the miser's fear anticipate disgrace.

Our husbandmen, seamen, and industrious mechanics—may they never want a harvest to their labours, nor peace to enjoy it.

The prize of wisdom—may it find many candidates.

The hand that gives, and the heart that forgives.

May the coward never wear a blue coat, nor the hypocrite a black one.

May health paint the check and sincerity the heart:

The sweets of sensibility without the bitters.

The pleasures of imagination realized.

Taste to our pleasure, and pleasure to our taste.

Honour's best employment—the protection of innocence.

Improvement to our arts and invention to our artists.

Inefficacy to the projects of those who would hurt us of our country.

[Page]

MASONIC TOASTS.

MAY universal Masonry be the only universal monarchy—and reign triumphant in the hearts of the worthy.

May the tongue of every mason be the key of his heart: may it eve [...] hang in just equilibrium —and never be suffered to lie, to injure a brother.

May every mason's heart have the ardency of charcoal, and the freedom of chalk—but not the coldness or hardness of marble, when the distresses of a brother claim assistance.

The square in conduct, the level in condition, the plumb-line in rectitude, and the compass in prudence to all masons.

The splendour of the east, the repose of t [...] and the solidity of the west, to every [...] lodge of free and accepted masons.

May the fragrance of good report, like a sprig of cassia, bloom over the head of every departed brother.

Our sisters—may they have as much reason to admire our wisdom, as the queen of Sheba had that of our grand master Solomon.

[Page 278]May we be entered apprentices to beauty and fellow crafts in love, but still masters of our passions.

May wisdom contrive our happiness; strength support our virtuous resolutions; and beauty adorn our beds.

May the rays of celestial li [...]ht pierce through the veil of ignorance, and perseverance remove the key-stone that covers truth.

May the roya [...] arch cover every honest mason's heart: and the glory of the first temple overshadow all who act up to the true principles of masonry.

FINIS.

[Page]

INDEX.

AH: fashion, wherefore do'st thou still Page. 35
A maid I love who loves not me Page. 39
A glass is good, and a lass is good Page. 40
Again, my dear friends, since we're met in full glee Page. 57
Alas! they've torn my love away Page. 95
Attention pray give while of hobbies I sing Page. 118
A soldier is the noblest name Page. 132
A soldier, a soldier, a soldier for me Page. 162
A rose tree in full bearing Page. 178
A few years in the days of my grannam Page. 184
At the sound of the horn Page. 189
Awake from delusion ye sons of the brave Page. 204
As in a grot reclin'd Page. 225
A song, a song, is the cry of mankind Page. 239
Almighty fire! our heavenly king Page. 243
A Mason's daughter fair and young Page. 256

Bright Phabus has mounted the chariot of day Page. 180
Bacchus open all thy treasure Page. 266

[Page ii]Come, pretty Poll, thy tears refrain Page. 6
Chloe, by that borrow'd kiss Page. 83
Coelia, by those smiling graces Page. 85
Come, courage, lads, and drink away Page. 105
Come each gallant lad Page. 112
Come [...]ither, ye youths, and attend to my call Page. 121
Cease, [...]ude boreas, boisterous railer Page. 123
Come, cheer up, my lads, 'tis to glory we steer Page. 145
Cupid, god of love and joy Page. 171
Cou'd you to battle march away Page. 183
Come my Sylvin come and bless Page. 186
Columbia's Bald Eagle displays in his claws Page. 203
Come all grenadiers, let us join hand in hand Page. 210
Contented I am, and contented I'll be Page. 218
Columbians all, the present hour Page. 238
Come let us prepare Page. 248
Come, come, my breth'ren dear Page. 259

Dapper Ted Tattoo is my natty name Page. 47
Dear is my little native vale Page. 66
Dear wanderer. O whither thy step shall I trace Page. 73
Dear sir, this brown jug that now foams with mild ale Page. 107
Did not tyrant custom guide me Page. 170

Extinguish the candles, give Phoebus fair play Page. 197
E'er time's great ma [...]hine was in motion Page. 241
Ere God the Universe began Page. 244

[Page iii]Fair Kate of Portsmouth lov'd a tar Page. 16
From dimpled youth to wrinkled age Page. 76
Farewell ye groves and crystal fountains Page. 101
From whom I'm descended, or how I came here Page. 104
Fresh and strong the breeze is blowing Page. 130
F [...]ckle bliss, fantastic treasure Page. 143
From the court to the cottage convey me away Page. 172
From night till morn I take my glas Page. 174
Forsaken my pipe and my crook Page. 177
Farewell, ye green fields and sweet groves Page. 178

Good people all attend to me, I'll sing you a merry tale sir Page. 115
Gallants attend, and hear a friend Page. 137
Go, patter to lubbers and swabs, d'ye see Page. 140
Guardians of our nation, stand firm in your station Page. 160
Go, tuneful bird, that glads the skies Page. 171
Great WASHINGTON the hero's come Page. 206
Genius of Masonry descend Page. 253

Have we cross'd the boist'rous main Page. 5
Here a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling Page. 17
Hark forward's the word, and all join in the chace Page. 58
How pleas'd within my native bow'rs Page. 75
How sweet when the silver moon is blinking Page. 79
How pleasant a sailor's life passes Page. 105
Hither, Mary, hither come Page. 135
[Page iv]How stands the glass around Page. 136
Hear me gallant sailor hear me Page. 144
Hail godlike WASHINGTON Page. 146
Hark, hark the loud drums call the soldiers away Page. 161
Hail independence, hail Page. 211
Heaven's fav'rite daughter, power divine Page. 214
HAIL COLUMBIA! happ [...] land Page. 227
Hark! The c [...]arion's shrill alarms Page. 237
Hail Mason [...]y! thou craft divine Page. 246
Hail Masonry! thou sacred art Page. 257
Hail to the CRAFT! at whose serene command Page. 262
Here social love ferenely smiles Page. 264

I'm here or there a jolly dog Page. 9
I was press'd while a rowing so happy Page. 12
I that once was a ploughman a sailor am now Page. 18
I've found, my fair, a true love not Page. 21
I'm a dashing dog, you may see that I am Page. 28
I like each girl that I come near Page. 38
In this sad and silent gloom Page. 44
In the world's crooked path where I've been Page. 49
In the land of Hibernia young Pat drew his breath Page. 51
In the dead of the night when with labour opprest Page. 65
I tread the borders of the main Page. 72
If truth can fix the wav'ring heart Page. 91
I am a jo [...]ly ga [...] pedlar Page. 93
If your lovers maids forsake you Page. 102
I was call'd knowing Joe by the boys of our town Page. 113
In vain the broom blooms fresh and gay Page. 12 [...]
[Page v]If e'er I should learn the sweet lesson of love Page. 169
I've kiss'd and I've prattled with fifty fair maids Page. 173
In Charles the second's merry days Page. 195
In hist'ry we're told how the lodges of old Page. 260

Ki [...]kardy is a bonny place Page. 70
King Solomon that wise projector Page. 251

Let care be a stranger to each jovial soul Page. 55
Let ali [...] th [...]se who would wish to hear reason Page. 60
Long ere the tints of rosy day Page. 71
Let me fly into thy arms Page. 84
Little thinks the townsman's wife Page. 98
Lovely woman, pride of nature Page. 99
Lord what care I for mam or dad Page. 167
Let Masonry from pole to pole Page. 244

My friends all declare that my time is mispent Page. 33
Ma Belle Coquette, ah! why disdain Page. 34
My name's Tippy Bob Page. 36
My heart from my bosom would fly Page. 81
My true honest fellows who smoke with such glee Page. 108

Night scarce her mantle had withdrew Page. 11
Ned oft' had brav'd the field of battle Page. 94
Not long ago how blythe was I Page. 176
[Page vi]No more I'll court the town-bred fair Page. 221
No sect in the world can with masons compare Page. 257

O you, whose lives on land are pass'd Page. 5
Oh! say, have you my Mary seen Page. 20
O'er barren hills and flow'ry dales Page. 22
On Entick's green meadows where innocence reigns Page. 32
On freedom's happy land Page. 50
One morning in June, when all nature did bloom Page. 59
Of Columbia's boast the praise be mine Page. 61
Oh, come away Page. 74
O think on my fate!—once I freedom enjoyed Page. 78
On a mossy bank reclin'd Page. 82
Our trade to work in clay began Page. 103
Our immortal poet's page Page. 127
O [...] what joys does conquest yield Page. 146
Oh ever in my bosom live Page. 222
O what a happy thing it is Page. 263

Poets may sing of their Helicon streams Page. 229

Returning home, across the plain Page. 24
Returning spring resumes the groves Page. 64
Restrain'd from the sight of my dear Page. 77
Return ye raptur'd hours Page. 120
Roving about, good fellows to meet Page. 217

[Page]Sweet Laura, see the fatal hour Page. 42
Such a Tom-boy before I had enter'd my teens Page. 68
Sweet innate—sensibility Page. 81
Sweet zephyr tho' 'midst rose-buds playing Page. 99
Sons of Bacchus lets be gay Page. 106
Sir Solomon Simons, when he did wed Page. 126
Sweet nightingale! Queen of the spray Page. 179
Since Emma caught my roving eye Page. 180
Shall I, like an hermit, dwell ibid.
Songs of Shepherds in rustical roundclays Page. 187
Sing Yankee Doodle, that fine tune Page. 208
Says Plato, why should man be vain Page. 215
So much of Masonry's been sung Page. 265

To distant shores the breezy wind Page. 8
The sea-worn tar, who in the war Page. 14
The dauntless sailor leaves his home Page. 15
'Twas underneath a May-blown bush Page. 20
To be sure I don't love in my heart, now Page. 27
'Twas in his vessel sailing Page. 30
The spangled green confess'd the morn Page. 40
The western sky was purpl'd o'er Page. 50
'Tis not the tint of ruby hu [...] Page. 52
Tom [...]kle was noble, was true to his word Page. 53
The [...] had proclaim'd the new day Page. 69
Tho' [...]ft we [...]t severe distress Page. 71
'Twas at the [...]r of day's decline Page. 72
The ch [...] [...] that nip'd the rose Page. 77
The v [...] [...] with toil had done Page. 89
[Page viii]Thro' groves-sequester'd, dark and still Page. 91
The eve her silver vestment wore Page. 96
The infant spring returns again Page. 97
Tho' late I was plump, round and j [...]lly Page. 100
'Twas past meridian half past four Page. 110
'Twas in Edinborough town Page. 120
The sweet briar grows in the merry green wood Page. 131
There's Ichabod has come to town Page. 155
There was once, it is said, when, is out of my head Page. 163
The sun sets at night, and the stars shun the day Page. 175
Tho' I am now a very little lad Page. 181
The rose just bursting into bloom Page. 184
The dusty night rides down the sky Page. 191
'Twas on the morn of sweet May day Page. 193
The summer gay, delightful scene Page. 194
To COLUMBIA, who, gladly reclin'd at her ease Page. 200
The tuneful Lavrocks cheer the grove Page. 224
'Tis Masonry unites mankind Page. 255
TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS Page. 267

When duty call'd I fail'd away Page. 3
When bending o'er the lofty yard Page. 7
When whistling winds are heard to blow Page. 13
While happy in my fair one's arms, Page. 23
Whither, my love, ah! whither art thou gone Page. 25
When spring returning decks the groves ibid.
Where Charles's tide encircling leaves Page. 26
[Page ix]When I had scarcely told sixteen Page. 29
When night and l [...]ft upon my guard Page. 37
When thirst of gold enslaves the mind Page. 41
Why will Laura thus retire Page. 43
When summer smiling bid [...] the hills Page. 45
When [...] er I view the opening dawn Page. 55
Whilst on those hills I feed my sheep Page. 62
When lovers for favors petition Page. 67
When in a garden sweet I walk Page. 75
When first I slipp'd my leading strings—to please her little Poll Page. 80
When Fanny I saw, as she trip'd o'er the green Page. 83
Why that sadn [...]ss on thy brow Page. 84
When Donald first came wooing me Page. 86
When I was a chit. just got into my teens, Page. 87
When the trees are all bare, not a leaf to be seen Page. 92
Winds, gently tell my love Page. 101
We soldiers drink, we soldiers sing Page. 133
Whi [...]e high the foaming surges rise Page. 142
When first the sun o'er ocean glow'd Page. 154
While discord [...]s bloody flag unfurl'd Page. 159
Well met jolly fellows, well met Page. 199
When first to Helen's late Page. 216
When one's drunk not a girl but looks pretty Page. 219
When Jove was resolv'd to create the round earth Page. 220
When bidden to the wake or fair Page. 223
When Britain with despotic sway Page. 231
When our great sires this land explor'd Page. 232
When Mason [...]y expiring lay, by knaves and fools rejected Page. 247
Wake the lute and quiv'ring strings Page. 261

[Page]Ye ling'ring winds that feebly blow
You ask why I thus droop my head Page. 1
Ye gents, give ear to me I pray Page. 45
Young Donald is a bonny lad Page. 63
Ye youths, wheresoever ye wander so free Page. 88
Young Damon has woo'd me a monstrous long time Page. 134
Ye sons of Columbia, who bravely have fought Page. 150
Ye nymphs and swains, Page. 168
Ye sportsmen draw near, and ye sportswomen too Page. 192
Youth and beauty kindle love, Page. 216
Yet awhile sweet sleep deceive me Page. 224
Ye chieftains of Columbia, your forces marshal out Page. 234
Ye dull stupid mortals give o'er your conjectures Page. 250

Zephyr come, thou playful minion Page. 80

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The Humming bird; or, New American songster; with modern toasts and sentiments.

2009-04

CHARMING SUE.

MARY'S TRUE.

THE SEAMAN'S HOME.

FOR YOU, MY LOVELY GIRL.

THE CAN OF FLIP.

THE MIDSHIPMAN.

A STORY OF SORROW.

THE CAPTURED CREW.

BEN BLOCK.

THE SEA-WORN TAR.

THE DAUNTLESS SAILOR.

FAIR KATE OF PORTSMOUTH

POOR TOM, OR THE SAILOR'S EPITAPH.

THE LUCKY ESCAPE.

CHARMING NANCY.

THE CALEDONIAN MAID.

LET'S TIE THE KNOT MY SALLY.

SWEET LILIES OF THE VALLEY.

GIVE ME THE GIRL THAT'S KIND AND FREE.

LUBIN'S RURAL COT.

WHITHER MY LOVE.

PRIMROSES.

THE MAID OF BOSTON.

THE ROW.

THAT'S YOUR SORT.

I NEVER WILL BE MARRIED.

WHY MOURNS MY FAITHFUL LOVER.

ROW, DOW, DOW.

THE SWEET LITTLE GIRL THAT I LOVE.

MA BELLE COQUETTE.

THE VEIL.

TIPPY BOB.

LOVELY MARY.

A MAID I LOVE.

A GLASS IS GOOD.

THE LASSY OF MY HEART.

THE NEGRO BOY. Sold for a Metal Watch, by an African Prince.

WRETCHED HENRY.

RECEIPT FOR THE VAPOURS.

THE NUN'S COMPLAINT.

THE HAPPY SHEPHERDESS.

THE BARKING BARBER.

THE DRUMMER.

THE GIRL OF MY HEART.

Sung in the Woodman.

Sung by Mr. Banister.

THE WESTERN SKY.

FAIR MARIA OF THE DALE.

TOM TACLE, A much admired Song composed by Mr. Dibdin, in his entertainment of Cas­tles in the Air.

[...] LAVENDER GIRL.

ARISTIPPUS.

THANKSGIVING SONG.

IN PURSUIT OF THE FASHION.

FISHING.

MAKE MUCH OF TO-DAY.

THE NEGLECTED FAIR.

SWEET WILLY.

YOUNG DONALD.

RETURNING SPRING.

IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT.

DEAR IS MY LITTLE NATIVE VALE.

THE FOND FAIR.

THE GIRL IS BEWITCH'D.

THE LARK HAD PROCLAIM'D THE NEW DAY.

O, WE SHALL LIVE TOGETHER.

ADELAIS.

THE ROSARY.

I TREAD THE BORDERS.

THE WAVING WILLOW.

DEAR WANDERER.

OH, COME AWAY.

THE CHOICE.

HOW PLEAS'D WITHIN MY NATIVE BOW'RS.

CUPID'S BOW.

ELVIRA.

ABSENCE.

TUG AT THE OAR. Sung in the Purse.

HOW SWEET WHEN THE SILVER MOON IS BLINKING.

TOM TACLE, A much admired Song composed by Mr. Dibdin, in his entertainment of Castles in the Air.

SHAKESPEARE'S SEVEN AGES PARAPHRASED.