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Fresh broach'd is my cask of old ale,

Well timed now the frost lias set in
Here's Job come to tell us a tale,

We'll make him at home to a pin;
While my wife and I bask o'er the fire,

The roil of the seasons will prove
That time may diminish desire,

But cannot extinguish true love.
Oh! the pleasures of neighbourly chat,

If you can but keep scandal away;
To learn what the world has been at,

And what the great orators say;.
Though the wind through the crevices sing,

And hail down our chimney rebound,
I'm happier than many a king,

While the bellows blows bass to the sound.
Abundar.ce was never my lot,

But, out of the trifle that's given,
That no curse may alight on my cot,

I'll distribute the bounty of heaven;
The fool and the slave gather wealth,

But, if I add nought to my store,
Yet, while I have conscience in health,

I've a mine that will never grow poor.

ALLEN-A-DALE. Sir W. Scott.]

[Music by MAZZINGII. Allen-a-Dale has no faggot for burning, Allen-a-Dale has no furrow for turning, Allen-a-Dale has no fleece for the spinning, Yet Allen-a-Dale has red gold for the winning. Come, read me my riddle! come,

hearken my tale, And tell me the craft of bold Allen-a-Dale. The Baron of Ravensworth prances in pride, And he views his domains upon Arkindale side

The mere for his net, and the land for his game,
The chase for the wild, and the park for the tame;
Yet the fish of the lake and the deer of the vale
Are less free to Lord Dacre than Allen-a-Dale.
Allen-a-Dale was ne'er belted a knight,
Though his spear be as sharp, and his blade be as

bright;
Allen-a-Dale is no baron or lord,
Yet twenty bold yeomen will draw at his word;
And the best of our nobles his bonnet will vail,
Who at Rere-cross or Stanmore meets Allen-a-Dale.
Allen-a-Dale to his wooing is come;
The mother she ask'd of his house and his home;
Though the castle of Richmond stands fair on the hill,
My hall, quoth bold Allen, stands gallanter still:
'Tis the blue vaulted heaven, with its crescent so pale,
And with all its bright spangles, said Allen-a-Dale.
The father was steel and the mother was stone,
They lifted the latch, and they bade him begone:
But loud on the morrow their

wail and their cry! He had laugh'd on the lass with his bonny black eye. And she fled to the forest to hear a love tale, And the youth it was told by was Allen-a-Dale.

THE SAILOR'S LULLABY.

[COBB.]
Peaceful slumbʼring on the ocean,

Seamen fear no danger nigh,
The winds and waves, in gentle motion,
Soothe them with their lullaby-

Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby,

Soothes them with their lullaby.
Is the wind tempestuous blowing,

Still no danger they descry;
The guileless heart, its boon bestowing,
Soothes them with its lullaby-

Lullaby, &c.

THE LOVER'S MISTAKE.

[T. H. BAYLY.]
A fond youth serenaded his love,

Who, sleeping,—“Love never should sleep!"
Her father was peeping above,

-
“O, fathers, you never should peep;"-
To his daughter's balcony he brought

Her monkey, in muslins array’d;
The youth was o'erjoyed, for he thought

'Twas the form of his beautiful maid.

He gazed on the figure in white,

Whose nods gave new life to his hopes;
His heart throbb'd with hope and delight

As he threw up the ladder of ropes ;
His charmer hopped down it, and then

The happy delusion was o'er !
Girls often meet monkey-like men,

But man never wooed monkey before.
From the window, enjoying the joke,

Her father fear'd danger no more ;
And she, by the bustle awoke,

Soon made her escape at the door!
“Come, come to your Rosa," she said,
“ Unless you prefer my baboon;

let your next serenade
Take place at the full of the moon !"

And, pray,

HER SMILE I SHALL NEVER FORGET. JESSE HAMMOND.]

[Air, “Jessie of Dumblane." Farewell, my dear Mary, the beam of thy beauty

No longer shall brighten the path I pursue, For loud on the blast rolls the mandate of duty,

And glory bid pleasure and Mary adieu ;

But though, lovely maid, it seems madness to lose

thee, Yet absence shall soften the sigh of regret, For memory pledges, when fondly it wooes thee,

Thy smile, thy sweet smile, I shall never forget. Farewell

, my first love, but the tear that's now falling Preserve as a relic, a relic from me, And each lonely liour my affection recalling,

That heart-drop of sorrow thy lover shall be ; And when thou hast brought my lost image before

thee, Let memory soften the sigh of regret, For the tear shall declare I must ever adore thee,

And thy smile, thy sweet smile, I shall never forget. Farewell, then, for ever, the night-star that listens,

My vows may record in the temples above, And the last parting tear, in the moonbeam that

glistens, Shall stamp as a seal, the sweet bond of my love; For I swear, till the night of the tomb overtake me,

And the sun of my life shall for ever be set, My fondness for Mary shall never forsake me,

And her smile, her sweet smile, I shall never forget

THE FISHERMAN'S SONG.

[JOHANNA BAILLIB.]
No fish stir in our evening net,
And the sky is dark, and the night is wet,
And we must ply the lusty oar,
For the tide is ebbing from the shore ;
And sad are they whose faggots burn
So kindly stored for our return.
Iur boat is small, and the tempest raves,
And nought is heard but the lashing waves,

And the sullen roar of the angry sea,
And the wild winds piping drearily ;
Yet sea and tempest rise in vain;
We'll bless our blazing hearths again.
Push bravely, mates ! our guiding star
Now from its tow'rlet streameth far;
And now, along the nearing strand,
See swiftly moves yon flaming brand ;
Before the midnight watch is past
We'll quaff our bowl, and mock the blast.

LOVE'S WEALTH.

[ALARIC A. WATTS.] Well, what if Fortune frown, love,

Heed not her fickle ray,
There are joys our hopes will crown, love,

That cannot thus decay!
Talk not of gems and gold, love;

What are gold and gems to me,
Whilst my shrining arms enfold, love,

A prize-a prize like thee!
The wealth for which I pant, love,

Is a heart, a form like thine ;
The only gems I want, love,

May soon, may soon be mine!
The diamonds of thine eyes, love,

All brilliants else eclipse,
And no other gems I prize, love,

Save the rubies of thy lips.
Then, I prithee, no delay, love,

Lest Hope fall sick the while;
Let's tie the knot to-day, love,

Nor wait for Fortune's smile.
The heavens are blue and bright, love,

Our hearts and hopes are gay;
Then a fig for Fortune's spite, love,

We'll tie the knot to-day.

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