BRITISH GRENADIERS.

SOME talk of ALEXANDER, and some of HERCULES;

Of CONON, and LYSANDER, and some MILTIADES ;

But of all the World's brave heroes, there 's none that can compare With a tow, row, row, row, row, to the British Grenadiers.

But of all the World's brave heroes, there's none that can compare, &c.

None of those ancient heroes e'er saw a cannon ball,

Or knew the force of powder to slay their foes withal;
But our brave boys do know it, and banish all their fears,
With a tow, row, row, row, row, the British Grenadiers.

But our brave boys do know it, and banish all their fears, &c.

Whene'er we are commanded to storm the palisades,
Our leaders march with fusees, and we with hand-grenades;
We throw them from the Glacis about our enemies' ears,
With a tow, row, row, row, row, the British Grenadiers.

We throw them from the Glacis about our enemies' ears, &c.

The God of War was pleased, and great BELLONA smiles,
To see these noble heroes of our British Isles;

And all the Gods celestial, descended from their Spheres,
Behold with admiration the British Grenadiers.

And all the Gods celestial, descended from their Spheres, &c.

Then let us crown a bumper, and drink a Health to those
Who carry caps and pouches, that wear the loopèd clothes!
May they, and their Commanders, live happy all their years!
With a tow, row, row, row, row, the British Grenadiers.

May they, and their Commanders, live happy all their years! &c.

SWEET WILLIAM.

By a prattling stream, on a Midsummer's Eve, Where the woodbine and jess'mine their boughs interweave, 'Fair FLORA!' I cried, 'to my arbour repair;

For I must have a Chaplet for sweet WILLIAM's hair!'

She brought me the Vi'let that grows on the hill,
The vale-dwelling Lily, and gilded Jonquil;
But such languid odours, how could I approve ?
Just warm from the lips of the Lad that I love!
She brought me, his faith and his truth to display,
The undying Myrtle, and evergreen Bay;
But why these to me? who've his constancy known;
And BILLY has laurels enough of his own!

The next was a gift that I could not contemn,

For she brought me two Roses that grew on a stem:
Of the dear nuptial tie, they stood emblems confest;
So I kissed them, and pressed them quite close to my breast.
She brought me a Sunflower, 'This, Fair One! 's your due!
For it once was a Maiden, and lovesick, like you!'
'O, give it me quick! to my Shepherd I'll run!
As true to his flame as this flower to the sun!'

THE LASS WITH THE GOLDEN LOCKS.
No more of my HARRIOT! of POLLY no more!
Nor all the bright Beauties that charmed me before!
My heart for a slave to gay VENUS I've sold ;
And bartered my freedom for ringlets of gold!
I'll throw down my Pipe, and neglect all my flocks;
And will sing to my Lass of the Golden Locks!

Though o'er her white forehead the gilt tresses flow of the sun on a hillock of snow

Like the

rays

Such, painters of old drew the Queen of the Fair! 'Tis the taste of the Ancients! 'tis classical hair!— And though Witlings may scoff, and though raillery mocks;

Yet I'll sing to my Lass of the Golden Locks!

To live and to love, to converse and be free,
Is loving, my Charmer! and living with thee!
Away go the hours in kissing and rhyme,
Spite of all the grave lectures of old Father TIME!
A fig for his dials, his watches and clocks!

He's best spent with the Lass of the Golden Locks!

Than the swan in the brook, she's more dear to my sight! Her mien is more stately! her breast is more white! Her sweet lips are rubies, all rubies above!

They are fit for the language, or labour, of Love! At the Park, in the Mall, at the Play in the Box; My Lass bears the bell with her Golden Locks!

Her beautiful eyes, as they roll, or they flow,
Shall be glad for my joy; or shall weep for my woe!
She shall ease my fond heart, and shall soothe my soft
pain;

While thousands of rivals are sighing in vain!

Let them rail at the fruit they can't reach, like the fox; While I have the Lass with the Golden Locks!

A Book, a Friend, a Song, a Glass,
A chaste, yet laughter-loving, Lass,
To mortals various joys impart,
Inform the sense, and warm the heart!

Thrice happy they who, careless laid
Beneath a kind-embowering shade,
With rosy wreaths their temples crown!
In rosy wine their sorrows drown!

Meanwhile, the Muses wake the lyre!
The Graces, modest mirth inspire,
Good-natured humour, harmless wit,
Well-tempered joys, nor grave, nor light!

Let sacred VENUS, with her heir,
And dear IANTHE too, be there!
Music and Wine in concert move
With Beauty and refining Love!

There, Peace shall spread her dove-light wing;
And bid her olives round us spring!

There, Truth shall reign, a sacred guest!
And Innocence, to crown the rest!

Begone, Ambition, Riches, toys;
And splendid Cares, and guilty Joys!
Give me a Book, a Friend, a Glass,
And a chaste laughter-loving Lass!

'DISCARD that frown upon your brow!

'Tis you alone I love!

To witness this eternal vow,
I'll call on mighty JOVE!'

'O, leave the God to soft repose!' The smiling Maid replies,

'For Jove but laughs at Lovers' oaths And Lovers' perjuries!'

By honoured Beauty's gentle power!
By Friendship's holy flame!"
'Ah! what is Beauty? but a flower!
And Friendship? but a name!'

'By these dear tempting lips!' I criedWith arch enchanting look,

'Hold! I'll believe!' the Maid replied, 'But-you've not kissed the book!'