Wild is thy lay and loud,
Far in the downy cloud;

Love gives it energy, love gave it birth!
Where on the dewy wing,

Where art thou journeying?

Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.

O'er fell and mountain sheen,

O'er moor and mountain green,
O'er the red streamer that heralds the day:
Over the cloudlet dim,

Over the rainbow's rim,

Musical cherub-hie, hie thee away!

Then when the gloaming comes,

Low in the heather blooms

Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be;
Bird of the wilderness,

Bless'd is thy dwelling-place :

Oh! to abide in the desert with thee!

SALLY IN OUR ALLEY.

H. CAREY.]

[Music by H. CAREY.

Of all the girls that are so smart,
There's none like pretty Sally-
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.
There's ne'er a lady in the land
That's half so sweet as Sally-
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

Her father he makes cabbage nets,
And through the streets doth cry 'em,

Her mother, she sells laces long

To such as please to buy 'em.
But sure such folks could never own
So sweet a girl as Sally-

She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

When she is by I leave my work-
I love her so sincerely,

My master comes,

like any Turk,

And bangs me most severely.
But let him bang me till he's tired,
I'll bear it all for Sally-
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

Of all the days that're in the week
I dearly love but one day,

And that's the day that comes between
The Saturday and Monday,

For then I'm drest all in my best,
To walk abroad with Sally-
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

When Christmas comes about again,
Oh, then I shall have money—
I'll hoard it up, and box and all
I'll give it to my honey.

And would it were ten thousand pounds,

I'd give it all to Sally

She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

My master and the neighbours all
Make game of me and Sally,

And but for her I'd better be

A slave and row a galley.

But when my seven long years are out,
Oh! then I'll marry Sally;

Oh! then how happy we shall be,
But not in our alley.

FLAG OF BRITANNIA.

Capt. CHAMIER.]

[Music by J. P. KNIGHT.

Land of the loyal and isle of the free,

The bulwark of freedom and Queen of the Sea

Hark! hark! to the sound of the cannon afar,
The cry of invaders-the bloodhounds of war.
Arm, arm, and advance, boys,
Nor e'er look askance, boys;

Our bulwarks at foreign invasion may smile,

Whilst the flag of Britannia still waves o'er our isle.
Whilst the flag, &c.

From the Tay to the Tweed, from the south to the north,
Arise, ye brave people-come daringly forth;
Arm, arm the brave yeomen! the tyrant may come,
To strike at your freedom and pillage your home!
Arm, arm, and advance, boys, &c.

Hail, Liberty, hail! may thy torch, ever bright,
Illumine the nations in slavery's night!

May they learn from the land of the brave and the free
What freedom with loyalty ever should be!
Arm, arm, and advance, boys, &c.

I LOVE TO FOLLOW THE HONEY BEE.

J. P. DOUGLAS.]

[Music by G. GLOVER.

I love to follow the honey-bee

In lonely summer bowers,

And watch the wings, so light and free,
As they glance among the flowers.
A reveller bold, without a care,

It trolls its merry lay,

And drinks a vintage bright and rare
The livelong summer day.

When first I follow'd the honey-bee
A reveller bold was I;

A step more light, a heart more free,
Were not beneath the sky.

The wine of hope I gaily quaff'd
In wild, unthinking glee:

I sung, I play'd, I danced, I laugh'd-
Oh, life was bright to me!

Far away in heathery dells,
By music-haunted streams,

Whose banks of fern and wild bluebells
Bloom freshly in my dreams.
These were my old familiar haunts,

The dearest yet to me,

And ever, as then, my spirit pants
To follow the honey-bee.

THE WINDS WHISTLE COLD.

D. TERRY.]

The winds whistle cold,

[Music by BISHOP.

And the stars glimmer red;

The flocks are in fold,

And the cattle in shed.

When the hoar-frost was chill
Upon moorland and hill,

And was fringing the forest bough,
Our fathers would troll
The bonny brown bowl,
And so will we do now,
Jolly hearts!

And so will we do now!

Gaffer Winter may seize
Upon milk in the pail;
"Twill be long ere he freeze
The bold brandy and ale!
For our fathers so bold,
They laugh'd at the cold,

When Boreas was bending his brow;

For they quaff'd mighty ale,

And they told a blithe tale,

And so will we do now,
Jolly hearts!

And so will we do now

THE HOME OF THE HEART.
[FREDERICK ENOCH.]

The heart has many a dwelling spot
On lifetime's pilgrim way,

In many a land where human lot
Leads human foot to stray;

But time, nor change, can e'er efface
This truth, where'er we roam-
That the heart has many a dwelling-place,
But only once a home.

The cot may for a palace change
By Fortune's golden spell;

But this can ne'er our love estrange
From what the past can tell;

That truth, which memory loves to trace,
Still lives beneath the dome-

That the heart has many a dwelling-place,
But only once a home.

Young filial love, all given by time
To be our help and stay,

With sunny beam and voiceful chime

May light and cheer our way;
But from the past each voice and face,
Dear, sacred proofs will come

That the heart has many a dwelling-place,
But only once a home.

IS THERE A HEART.

S. J. ARNOLD.]

[Music by J. BRAHAM,

Is there a heart that never loved,
Nor felt soft woman's sigh?
Is there a man can mark unmoved
Dear woman's tearful eye?

Oh, bear him to some distant shore,
Or solitary cell,

Where nought but savage monsters roar,
Where love ne'er deigned to dwell.