But, sad reverse! poor Tom no more To faithless Poll enticing; 'Be gone!' she cried, you're fittest now To lie in Greenwich moorings.' Then to our gracious king I'll drink, Brave soldier, and just trader; ........ AWAKE, MY LOVE. (Allan Cunningham.) AWAKE, my love, ere morning's ray green Arbiglands' woodlands shake. The lark's song dropt, now loud, now hush- Tak'st thou from Nature's counsellor tongue, ........ THE MUFFIN MAN. (T. Dibdin.) WHILE your opera-squallers fine verses are singing, Of heroes, and poets, and such like humguffins; While the world's running round, like a mill in a sail, I'll ne'er bother my head with what other folks ail, But careless and frisky, my bell I keep ringing, And walk about merrily crying my muffins. CHORUS. Lilly white muffins, O, rare crumpets smoking, Hot Yorkshire cakes, hot loaves and charming cakes, One a-penny, two a-penny, Yorkshire cakes. What matters to me, if great folks run a gadding, For politics, fashion, or such botheration; Let sailors and soldiers, contending for glory, Delight in the rattle of drums and of trumpets; Undertakers get living, by other folks dying; While actors make money by laughing or crying; Let lawyers with quizzies and quiddities bore ye, It's nothing to me, while I'm crying my crumpets. SPOKEN.] What do I care for lawyers! A'nt I a baker and Master of the Rolls myself:-Droll enough, too, for a Master of the Rolls to be crying-Lilly white muffins, &c. LOVE MAY RECEIVE INSTRUCTION FROM FLOWERS. (J. H. Payne.) FROM flowers which we twine for the Temple of Love, Love itself may instruction receive; The love learn'd from Nature, comes straight from above, Her's are lessons which cannot deceive. To souls that are bent on a stainless career, ........ COME BUY MY WATER CRESSES. Still thou art oft a lover's toast, My nice young water-cresses. The musky rose that breathes perfume, She constant cries, devoid of fear, My nice young water-cresses. More fair than those who wealthy born, Is seen to cry from town to town, My nice young water-cresses. WHEN I was at home, with my father and mother, My Judy I lov'd, and oft gave her a kiss; THE SPIRIT OF THE STORM. AT sight of each terrific form, AIR. Loud roars the spirit of the storm, The perils of his hapless state; Hoarse brays the trumpet's throat-the while Sits brooding o'er an empire's wreck"Tis then the soldier's manly heart To home one tear-drop doth bequeath; Bends to that power that points the dart, Just midway 'twixt life and death. Though horrors rise upon his view, Resolved to fight the battle true. BY HIM WE LOVE OFFENDED. (Sheridan.) BY him we love offended, To me thus oft has said, THE MAD GIRL'S SONG. (J. H. L. Hunt.) THE lily enamels the vale, With a smile from the lips of my love? But my love he was false and unkind, When he bade me depart from the grove : And I'll go; for I have not a mind That will laugh in the frowns of my love. I'll pick up the flowers that are dead, And deck all my bosom so gay, That love shall come, patting my head, And steal all their blossoms away; But no, he sha'n't rob me of these, Refusal his wishes shall prove; For he would not, my passion to please, Inspire the cold breast of my love. I will visit the cypress so sad, That hangs o'er the dark shadow'd grave; And I know, though they tell me I'm mad, That I'll tear off its branches to wave. Oh, then a sweet garland I'll twine, And show all my friends how I wove; And all, but the leaves, shall be mine, For I'll give all the green to my love. But my love, I'm afraid, won't be press'd To take the poor gift, though so smart; For he scorn'd this fond fluttering breast, And all the warm wealth of heart my Then I'll keep it, and twine in my hair The green and the boughs that I wove; And, when it shall fade away there, Sing dirges to it and my love. Then fly not now, O gentle sleep! Fly not our humble dwelling; His anguish in oblivion steep, The image of the past repelling; As he deserves, whose watchful night THE EOLIAN HARP. Each natural, flat, and sharp; That all can feel, but none explain, The love-sick maid her anxious pain Now, while the lover scales the gates, And into every danger runs: Is gently wafted through the trees: Each belle, thus holding in disdain Thumps, as she harps on the same strain, The Irish harp, Scotch harp, Welsh harp, The chords they ransack, strain, and warp, And shift, and turn, and change, and chop Each natural, flat, and sharp. Yet nought the senses can ensnare Like the dear soft celestial strain That gently floats upon the air, That all can feel but none explain, In sounds the ear so smoothly greet, From the seraphic, self-play'd, sweet Eolian harp. SALLY ROY. (Rannie.) FAIR Sally, once the village pride, Swift from the arms of weeping love, As rag'd the war in yonder valley, He rush'd, his martial pow'r to prove, While, faint with fear, sunk lovely Sally. At noon, she saw the youth depart; At eve, she lost her darling joy; Ere night, the last throb of her heart Declar'd the fate of Sally Roy, The virgin-train in tears are seen, When yellow moon-light fills the valley, Slow stealing o'er the dewy green, Towards the grave of gentle Sally; And, while remembrance wakes the sigh, Which weans each feeling heart from joy; The mournful dirge, ascending high, Bewails the fate of Sally Roy. THOU HAST LEFT ME EVER, JAMIE. (Burns.) THOU hast left me ever, Jamie, Thou hast left me ever; Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, Often hast thou vowed that death Now thou'st left thy lass for ay— I'M the showman, with face so brass-mounted, And wonder of wonders at Bartlemy! That the head of my blind pig will be Full of science and skill astronomical! SPOKEN.] Walk up, ladies and gemmen; the first booth in the fair, though I am the last to say it. Show 'em in there! the most wonderful wonder in the world to be seen; though blind of both eyes, he is a real star-gazer-none of your shams! Thank you, ma'am; show that lady to the boxes, she has just paid a penny! Walk up here! Show 'em in there; just going to begin: all ready now but the brads. Now is your time; only two-pence a-piece, and a penny for a whole one. Here's the wonderful pig from Constantinople; only ten months old and speaks eleven of the learned languages! He is just arrived from the East, and is as deep as the North Star. All ready; just going to begin-the O-whee! whee! such a wonder true Bartlemy fair never knew! He is the Milton of swine and the Moses Of grunters; I don't blush in telling it; When Copernicus' system he noses, He knows it from Newton's by smelling it! Tycho Brah, he allows, might know much, But accounts himself more philosophical; And says-Ptolemy's wisdom was such As a blind pig must call phantomophical! SPOKEN.] There, ladies and gemmen, there! only look at his proboscis; there is a countenance; all wisdom to the tip end of his nose! "Dear Lard, what a pretty creeter!" Pretty, ma'am, he is quite handsome; beautiful as a Circassian vestal, or a Spanish bona-roba! Constitutionally warm, his ideas all are tropical; and the zenith of his learning is the nadir of his science; though he is blind, he knows all the stars when he looks at them, and can tell the left limb of the moon from the right end of a potatoe by astronomical instinct! "Can he tell my nativity, mister?" I'll ask him, ma'am. He says you live in Petticoat-lane. "Dear me! that's right; but I means my planet, when I was born?" I'll ask him that. He says Mercury and Venus were in conjunction, ma'am. "Oh, curse his little impudence!" Nay, don't be angry, ma'am; you see he is the real thing; and, as a star-gazer, he is allowed in-O-whee whee! &c. Had Success would have been, without parity! Soon the world will all tumbled to pieces be! SPOKEN.] There he is, ladies and gemmen; the first astronomer in the world and the greatest mathematician in Europe; a real Archimedes: knows the parallax of his appetite from the equator of his stomach, and measures the distance between his eye-tooth and his nasal hiatus by his tongue, with true mathematical accuracy; tells all the celestial luminaries, from a blazing comet to a wax taper. "Pray, sir, I would ask, does he know all the signs; the goat, the lion, the ram, the"-The ram, oh yes, sir, he knows the ram; that is here, in Smithfield. "Lard, sir, why my husband means the ram in the zodiac!" Oh! yes, madam, he knows every thing oddyic; but he does not like the ram, because it is an unchaste animal! He is very particular in every thing; eats nothing but lamb-pasties; and, although he is blind, he won't dine without a looking-glass before him; changes his coat three times a year, and makes a new almanack month! 66 every Amazing!" Quite as.. tonishing, maʼam! He is an— O-whee! whee! &c. Then away we pursued, brake, cover, and wood, Not quickset, nor thickset, our pleasure withstood! Soho! master Renard-Jack Rivers he cried; To the hounds he knocked under, and gave up the ghost! The sports of the field, when concluded and o'er, ........ OH! TELL ME HOW TO WOO. (Marquis of Montrose, 1640.) Ir doughty deeds my layde please, Then tell me how to woo thee, love, If gay attire thy fancy please, If sweetest sounds can win thine ear, But if fond love thy heart can gain, I never broke a vow; No maiden lays her skaith on me,— LAUGHING FROHIBITED. (Dibdin.) &c. Such joys are too formal by half; roar, and I revel, Drive care to the devil, And hold both my sides while I laugh. For since Pleasure's Joy's parent, &c. I hate all those pleasures we're angling and squaring, And fitting and cutting by rules; And, d-me,-dear me, I beg pardon for swearing, They may say what they list on't, That pleasure's the prop and the staff, For since Pleasure's Joy's parent, &c. THE JOYS THAT SPARKLE IN THE BOWL, MY BOYS. (Parry.) IN battle some for glory seek, While others hang on beauty's cheek, But we, more wise, That would enslave the soul; Like those, my boys, That sparkle in the bowl. Let love-sick swains the willow wear, Shun sparkling eyes, That would enslave the soul; And taste the joys, That sparkle in the bowl. TO LIVE WITH THEE, MY LOVE. (Sir Walter Raleigh.) If all the world and love were young, Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, To live with thee, and be thy love. But could youth last, and love still breed, |