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When Adam delved and Eve span,
Who was then the gentleman ?
Wretched is the infant's lot
Born within the straw-roof'd cot!
Be he generous, wise, or brave,
He must only be a slave.
Long, long labour, little rest,
Still to toil to be oppress'd;
Drain’d by taxes of his store,
Punish'd next for being poor;
This is the poor wretch's lot
Born within the straw-roof'd cot.
While the peasant works—to sleep;
What the peasant sows-to reap;
On the couch of ease to lie,
Rioting in revelry;
Be he villain, be he fool,
Still to hold despotic rule,
Trampling on his slaves with scorn;
This is to be nobly born.
When Adam delved and Eve span,
Who was then the gentleman ?


[DIBDIN.] Tom Tackle was noble—was true to his word,– If merit bought titles, Tom might be a lord; How gaily his bark through life's ocean would sail! Truth furnish'd the rigging, and honour the gale. Yet Tom had a failing, if ever man had, That, good as he was, made him all that was bad,

He was paltry, and pitiful, scurvy, and mean,
And the snivelingest scoundrel that ever was seen,
For so said the girls, and the landlord's long score,
Would you know what his fault was ?- Tom Tackle

was poor. 'Twas once on a time, when they took a galleon, And the crew touch'd the agent for cash to some tune, Tom a trip took to jail, an old messmate to free, And four thankful prattlers soon sat on his knee: Then Tom was an angel, downright from heaven sent, While they'd hands, he his goodness should never

repent. Return'd from next voyage, he bemoan'd his sad caso To find his dear friend shut the door in his face ! Why, d'ye wonder ?” cried one, “ you're served right,

sure, “Once Tom Tackle was rich—now Tom Tackle is poor."

to be

I ben't, you see, versed in high maxims and sich,
But don't this same honour concern poor and rich ?
If it don't come from good hearts, I can't see where

And if ever tar had a good heart, it was Tom;
Yet, somehow or 'nother, Tom never did right;
None knew better the time when to spare or to fight;
He, by finding a leak once, preserved crew and ship,
Saved the commodore's life-then he made such rare

flip; And yet, for all this, no one Tom could endure, I fancy, as how, 'twas because he was poor.


At last, an old shipmate, that Tom might hail land,
Who saw that his heart sail'd too fast for his hand,
In the riding of comfort a mooring to find,
Reef'd the sails of Tom's fortune, that shook in the

wind; He gave him enough through life's ocean to steer, Be the breeze what it might, steady, thus, or no near ;

His pittance is daily, and yet Tom imparts
What he can to his friends; and may all honest hearts,
Like Tom Tackle, have what keeps the wolf from the

Just enough to be generous—too much to be poor.


Thy favourite bird is soaring still,

My Lucy, haste thee o'er the dale;
The stream's set loose, and from the mill

All silent comes the balmy gale;
Yet so lightly on its way,
Seems to whisper holiday.
The pathway-flowers, that bending meet,

And give the meads their yellow hue;
The may-bush, and the meadows sweet,

Reserve their fragrance all for you:
Why, then, Lucy, why delay?
Let us share love's holiday.
Since, then, thy smiles, my charming maid,

Are with unfeignèd raptures seen;
To beauty be the homage paid, -

Come, claim the triumph of the green.
Here's my hand, come, come away,
Share, oh! share love's holiday.
A promise, too, my Lucy made,

And shall my heart its claim resign?
That ere May flowers again should fade,

Her heart and hand should both be mino.
Hark ye, Lucy, this is May,
Love shall crown the holiday.

Masonic Songs,


Come let us prepare,

We brothers that are
Assembled on merry occasion;

Let's drink, laugh, and sing:

Our wine has a spring : Here's a health to an accepted Mason !

The world is in pain

Our secrets to gain, And still let them wonder and gaze on;

Till they're shown the light,

They'll ne'er know the right Word or sign of an accepted Mason.

'Tis this, and 'tis that,

They cannot tell what,
Why so many great men of the nation

Should aprons put on,

To make themselves one With a free and an accepted Mason.

Great kings, dukes, and lords

Have laid by their swords, Our myst’ry to put a good grace on;

And ne'er been ashamed

To hear themselves named With a free and an accepted Mason.

Antiquity's pride

We have on our side, And it maketh men just in their station:

There's nougřít but what's good

To be understood
By a free and an accepted Mason.


We're true and sincero

And just to the fair ; They'll trust us on any occasion :

No mortal can more

The ladies adore
Than a free and an accepted Nason.

Then join hand in hand,

By each brother firm stand; Let's be merry, and put a bright face on:

What mortal can boast

So noble a toast
As a free and an accepted Mason.


[Bro. J. E. CARPENTER, P.M.] God save our gracious Queen! Long live our noble Queen !

God save the Queen !
May peace and plenty reign
Through all her wide domain ;
May we her laws sustain.

God save the Queen!
Oh, Lord above, who secs
Our hidden mysteries,

On Thee we call.
So rule our hearts that we
May, in freemasonry,
Faithful and loyal be.

Oh! save us all. Thou, heav'n's great Architect, Our gracious Queen protect.

Long may she reign! O'er her thine arm extend, May she the craft befriend, And we her throne defend'!

God save the Queen!

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