And then the dull hours so merrily passes, When we can't catch the pig for the grease on his tail. But the best joke of all, and it's joy past expressing, E'en the thought of it now makes me burn with delight, Is Shelah's soft lips, when I give her a blessing, IRISH PROVIDENCE. TUNE- Sprig of Shellelagh. My darling says Pat, to his spouse on his lap, The science of ploughing my father taught me, Says Norah, when you're on the ocean, my life, For no babies have we, not a Jill nor a Jack;But when Pat was away, what did Providence do?— Made the Squire build for Norah a cabin quite new; He furnished it gaily, to dry up her tears, And he peopled it too in the space of three years,— With his Jill, sing Jack, sing Biblio whack. But when Paddy return'd how it gladdened his heart, To see his dear Norah so fine and so smart, With her rings in her ears and her silks on her back, And who furnished for you this cabin, says Pat? 'Twas Providence, says Norah, himself that did that; Then Providence, Pat cried, as looking around, Is the neatest upholsterer ever was found,- With his Jill, sing Jack, sing Biblio whack. Then Norah, dear Norah, tell me, if you please, With his Jill, sing Jack, sing Biblio whack. Oh! Norah, when I've been upon the salt sea, So to him and Old Nick I'll kick babies and you-- OH! WHEN I BREATH'D A LAST ADIEU. TUNE- Within this village dwells a maid.'. To Erin's vales and mountains blue, I listen'd to the rising wind, She bore me to the woodbine bow'r, Again, by sweet confession blest, Dost thou, Kathleen, my loss deplore, That call'd me from thy arms away, THE TWIG OF SHELALY. MULROONEY's my name, I'm comical boy, St. Paddy wid whiskey he suckled me, joy, The world I began with the prospect so fair, "Turn captain,” cried dad, " and if kilt in de strife, Success and long life to Shelaly! Your fortune is made all the rest of your life, But thinks I, spite of what fame and glory bequeath, Yet firmly both Ireland and England I'll aid, For now these two sisters are man and wife made, As sure as there's bogs in Kelaly. I'll still for their friends have a heart warm and true, TUNE- The Red Fox.' LET Erin remember the days of old, On Lough-Neagh's bank, as the fisherman strays, He sees the round towers of other days, Thus shall memory often, in dreams sublime, SPORTING SONGS. AWAY! AWAY, TO THE MOUNTAIN'S BROW AWAY! away, to the mountain's brow, While the zephyr that breathes thro' the flow'ry dell, Away! away, to the mountain's brow, &c. Away! away, to the rocky glen, Where the deer are wildly bounding, And the hills shall echo in gladness again, To the hunter's bugle sounding. While beauty, my love, on thy cheek shall dwell, While the zephyr that breathes thro' the flow'ry dell, Away! away, to the rocky glen, &c. SONG OF THE SKATERS. THIS bleak and chilly morning, With frost the trees adorning, Were all in a glow, Through the sparkling snow A skating we go, With a fal, lal, la, To the sound of the merry horn. |