Surely mineral water nice is, Old Degruchy's, Sparks' and Price's- Since we've met in joy together, Not in praise of man-we'd rather I WON'T BE A NUN. Now is it not a pity such a pretty girl as I I'm so fond of pleasure that I cannot be a nun. I could not bear confinement, it would not do for me, For I like to go a shopping, and to see what I can see. So I won't be a nun, &c. I love to hear men flattering-love fashionable clothes, So mother, don't be angry now,but let your daughter be, ALKNOMOOK.—By Mr. Hunter. The sun sets at night and the stars shun the day, Begin, ye tormenters, your threats are in vain, away: Now the flame rises fast, you exult in my pain; His ghost shall rejoice in the fame of his son; Death comes like a friend-he relieves me from pain; And thy son,oh! Alknomook,has scorn'd to complain. PADDY CAREY'S FORTUNE, OR IRISH PROMOTION. 'Twas at the town of nate Clogheen That Sergeant Snap met Paddy Carey, A claner boy was never seen, Brisk as a bee, light as a fairy; All the sweet faces at Limerick races, At Paddy's beautiful name would melt! And look so shy, Ogh! Cushlamachree, did you never see The jolly boy, the darling joy, the ladies' toy! Nimble-footed, black-ey'd, rosy-cheek'd, Ogh, sweet Paddy, beautiful Paddy, nate little, tight little Paddy Carey. His heart was made of Irish oak, Yet soft as streams from sweet Killarney, His tongue was tipt with a bit of the brogue, But the deuce a bit at all of the blarney! Now Sergeant Snap, so sly and keen, While Pat was coaxing duck-legg'd Mary, A shilling slipt so neat and clean, By the powers he listed Paddy Carey ! Tight and sound, strong and light, Cheeks so round, eyes so bright, Whistling, humming, drinking, drumming, Light, tight and airy. All the sweet faces, &c. The sowls wept loud, the crowd was great, When waddling forth came widow Leary, Though she was crippled in her gait, Her brawny arms clasp'd Paddy Carey; Ogh! Pat, she cried, go buy the ring, Here's cash galore my darling honey, Says Pat, you sowl, I'll do that thing, And clapt his thumb upon her money! Gimlet eye, sausage nose, Pat so sly, ogle throws, Leering, titt'ring, jeering, fritt'ring, Sweet widow Leary. All the sweet faces, &c. nose, When Pat had thus his fortune made, In captain's boots struts Paddy Carey ! He grateful prais'd her shape, her back, To others like a dromedary; Her eyes, that seem'd their strings to crack, Were Cupid's darts to Captain Carey ! Neat and sweet-no alloy, All complete-love and joy, All the sweet faces at Limerick races, The ladies' toy! the widow's joy! Beautiful Paddy! White feather'd, boot leather'd Paddy Carey. LITTLE SUE. THE shepherds call me little Sue, I tell the swains, he must be rare O rare! O rare! he must be rare The youth who would my bosom move, His actions, not his words, must prove My love must have good sense refin'd, The youth be gentle, brave and kind, O rare! O rare! he must be rare O rare! O rare! he must be rare The youth that's form'd for love and me, Must ne'er find fault, tho' some should see, I'd every art pursue, He'll hold my heart, my mind, my truth, O rare! O rare! he must be rare Who marries little Sue O rare! O rare! he must be rare THE HUNTERS OF KENTUCKY. As sung by Mr. Ludlow, in the New-Orleans and Western Country Theatres. YE gentlemen and ladies fair, Who grace this famous city, Just listen, if you've time to spare, While I rehearse a ditty; And for an opportunity |