THE JACKASS AND THE THISTLE

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Uh Oh. Then sing to the oak, the brave old oak, Who stands in his pride alone, And still flourish he, a hale green tree When a hundred years are gens In the days of old, when the spring with gold Was lighting his branches gray, Through the grass at his feet crept maidens sweet, To gather the dew of May : And all that day, to the rebeck gay, They frolick'd with lovesome swains; They are gone, they are dead, in the churchyard laidj- But the tree he still remains. He saw the rare times, when the Christmas chime3 Were a merry sound, to hear, And the squire's wide hall, and the cottage small, Were full of good English cheer; Now gold hath the sway we all obey, And a ruthless king is he; But he never shall send our ancient friend.

To be toss'd on the stormy sea. To all you ladies now on land, We men at sea indite ; But first would have you understand, How hard it is to write; The Muses now, and Neptune too, We must implore to write to you. With a fa, la. Words by Bex Jonsox. Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss within the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that in my soul doth rise, Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sip, I would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much hon'ring thee, As giving it a hope, that there It would not wither'd be. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent it back to me; Since when, it grows and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee. Words by Chables Jeffbeys. Old England's emblem is the rose, There is no other flow'r Hath half the graces that adorn This beauty of the bow'r; And England's daughters are as fair As any bud that blows ; What son of hers who hath not lov'd Some bonnio English rose.

Who hath not heard of one sweet flow'r, The first amongst the fair, For whom the best of British hearts, Have breathed a fervent prayer;! If any bold enough there be, To war 'gainst England's isle, They soon shall find from English hearts, What charms hath woman's smile : Thus nerv'd, the thunder of their arms, Would teach aspiring foes, How vain the power that defies The bonnie English rose.

Bright chanticleer proclaims the dawn, And spangles deck the thorn, The lowing herds now quit the lawn, The lark springs from the com : Dogs, huntsmen, round the window throng, Fleet Towler leads the cry; Arise the burden of my song, This day a stag must die. With a hey ho, chevy, Hark-forward, hark-forward, tantivy, Hark, hark, tantivy, This day a stag must die.

Poor stag, the dogs thy haunches gore, The tears run down thy face, The huntsman's pleasure is no more, His joys were in the chase; Alike the gen'rous sportsman burns To win the blooming fair, — But yet he honours each by turns, They each become his care. Live and let live, 'tis the great law of nature, Man to his fellow should ever be kind — He whose high bounty protects every creature, Taught us to practise this precept refined. Wide is the world, and tho' various in station, Each to his neighbour good wishes may give; All men belong to humanity's nation, Natur-s's great law is, to live and let live.

Live and let live, 'tis the law of our being, The rich and the poor on each other depend; All men are equal before the All-seeing, Each in his turn stands in need of a friend. Be to a foe in distress like a brother; Oh! Tire tear fell gently from her eye When last we parted on the shore ; My bosom heav'd with many a sigh, To think I ne'er might see her more. Dear youth! I cannot — I cannot part from thee. The anchor's weigh'd— farewell! Weep not, my love, I trembling said; Doubt not a constant heart like mine; I ne'er can meet another maid Whose charms can fix my heart like thine.

Go then, she cried, but let thy constant mind Oft think of her thou leav'st in tears behind : Dear maid — this last embrace my pledge shall be. I'm afloat on the fierce rolling tide, The ocean's my home, and my bark is my bride; Up, up with my flag, let it wave o'er the sea — I'm afloat! I'm afloat, and the Rover is free. I fear not the monarch, I heed not the law, I've a compass to steer by, a dagger to draw; And ne'er, as a coward or slave, will I kneel, While my guns carry shot, or my belt wears a steel.

Quick, quick, trim her sail, let the sheet kiss the wind, And I warrant we'll soon leave the seagulls behind; Up, up with my flag, let it wave o'er the sea — I'm afloat I I'm afloat! The night gathers o'er us, the thunder is heard— What matter? She has brav'd it before, and will brave it again. The fire gleaming flashes around us may fall, They may strike, they may cleave, but they can- not appal ; With lightnings above us, and darkness below, Through the wild waste of waters right onward we go. Words by Alfred Tennyson. Teaks, idle tears, I know not what they mean ; Tears, from the depth of some divine despair, Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy, happy autumn fields, And thinking, thinking of the days that are no more.

Fresh as the first beam glitt'ring on a sail, That brings our friends up from tha under world; Sad as the last, which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the wave; So sad, so fresh the days that are no more. Dear as remember'd kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others, deep as love — Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; Oh! A life on the ocean wave!

A home on the rolling deep! Where the scatter'd waters rave, And the winds their revels keep! Like an eagle cag'd I pine, On this dull unchanging shore; Oh, give me the flashing brine, The spray and the tempest's roar, A life on the ocean wave! Set sail! We shoot through the sparkling foam, Like an ocean bird set free; Like the ocean bird, our home We'll find far out on the sea. I have never known a sorrow That was long unsoothed by thee, — For thy smile can make a summer Where darkness else would be.

Like the leaves that fall around us In autumn's fading liours, Are the traitor smiles that darken When the cloud of sorrow lowers. And though many such we've known, love, Too prone, alas! We have lived and loved together, Through many changing years — We have shared each other's gladness, And wept each other's tears. And let us hope the future, As the past hath been shall be ; I will share with thee thy sorrows, And thou thy joys with me.

Words by T. Hatnes Bayley. The lady I love will soon be a bride, With a diadem on her brow; Oh! She's going to leave me now; Oh! She's going to leave me now. She took me away from my warlike lord, And gave me a silken suit ; I thought no more of my master's sword, When I play'd on my master's lute. She seem'd to think me a boy above Her pages of low degree. Then I'll hide in my breast ev'ry selfish care; I'll flush my pale cheek with wine; W hen smiles awake the bridal pair I'll hasten to give them mine. But one golden tress of her hair I'll twine In my helmet's sable plume, And then, on the field of Palestine I'll seek an early doom : And if by the Saracen's hand I fe, 'Mid the noble and the brave, A tear from my lady-love is all I ask for the warrior's grave; A tear from my lady-love is all I ask for the warrior's grave.

Words by Ransfoed. In the days when we went gipsying, A long time ago, The lads and lasses in their best Were dress'd from top to toe. We fill'd a glass to every lass, And all our friends most dear, And wish'd them many happy days, And many a happy year. Words by Hon.

Mrs Norton. Love not! Love not I love not I 14 Love not! Words by J.

The trouble with life is…it’s SO daily!

I love the merry merry sunshine — It makes the heart so gay To hear the sweet birds singing On their summer holiday, With their wild wood-notes of duty, 1'Ycm hawthorn bush and tree; Oh! I love the merry merry sunshine — It makes the heart so gay To hear the sweet birds singing On their summer holiday. The merry merry sun, the merry sun, The merry merry sun for me ; The merry merry sun, the merry sun, The merry merry sun for me.

I love the merry merry sunshine — Through the dewy morning's show'r, With its rosy smiles advancing, Like a beauty from her bower- It charms the soul in sadness, It sets the spirit free; Oh! It may not be, it cannot be, That such a gem was made for me ; But oh! That bonnie, simple gem had thrown Bright lustre round a jewell'd crown; For oh!

I love her for her artless truth, I love her wi' the heart o' youth ; When a' the golden dreams o' love Bring winged angels from above, A stolen glance from Annie, snares My heart away from all its cares. For oh! Love thee, dearest, love thee? Yes, by j'onder star I swear! Which, thro' tears above thee, Shines so sadly fair. Tho' often dim with tears like him, Like him my truth will shine; And love thee, dearest, love thee? Leave thee, dearest, leave thee? A cloud of night may veil his light, And death 6hall darken mine ; But leave tfiee, dearest, leave thee? No I till death I'm thine.

Words by W. To tenderest words he swept the chords, And many a sigh breathed he ; While o'er and o'er he fondly swore, "Sweet maid! He raised his eye to her lattice high, While he softly breathed his hopes; With amazement he sees swing about with the breeze, All ready a ladder of ropes. Up, up he has gone, the bird it is flown, " What is this on the ground? Of course, you'd have thought, he'd have follow'd and fought, As that was a " duelling age;" But this gay cavalier he quite scorn'd the idea Of putting himself in a rage.

More wise by far, he put up his guitar; And as homeward he went, sung he— " When a lady elopes down a ladder of ropes, She may go to Hong-Kong for me. She may go, she may go, she may go to Hong-Kong for me. By the sad sea waves I listen, while they moan A lament o'er graves of hope and pleasure gone : I was young, I was fair, I had once not a care From the rising of the morn to the setting of tha sun, Yet I pine like a slave by the sad sea wave. Come again, bright days of hope and pleasure gone.

Come again, bright days, come again, come again. From my care last night, by holy sleep beguil'd, In the fair dream-light my home upon me smil'd; Oh! I awake in my grave by the sad sea wave, Come again, dear dream, so peacefully that smil'd. Come again j dear dream, come again, come again. Let us speak of a man as we find him, And censure alone what we see; And should a man blame, let's remind him That from faults we are none of us free; If the veil from the heart could be torn, And the mind could be read on the brow; There are many we'd pass by with scorn, Whom we're loading with high honours noisr.

Let us speak of a man as we find him, And heed not what others may say; If lie's frail, then a kind word will bind him, Where coldness would turn him away. For the heart must be barren indeed, Where no bud of repentance can bloom; Then pause ere you cause it to bleed — On a smile or a frown hangs its doom. Hatnes Baylv. Gaily the troubadour touch'd his guitar, When he was hastening home from the war; Singing, " From Palestine hither I come, Ladye love 1 ladye love!

The Jackass & the Thistle by David Haskell - Issuu

My heart with love is beating Responsive to my sighs ; Alas! Then why vain anguish cherish? The stricken deer must stay ; Should Julio bid me perish, His captive must obey. Could deeds my heart discover, And constant truth prevail, Twould prove no other lover Could dare thy rights assail. Upon the hill he turn'd, to take a last fond look Of the valley and the village church, and the cottage by the brook; He listen 'd to the sound so familiar to his ear, And the soldier lean'd upon his sword and wip'd away a tear.

He turn'd and left the spot. Go watch the foremost rank in danger's dark career, Be sure the hand most daring there has wip'd away a tear. Gentle waves upon the deep, Murmur soft when thou dost sleep; Little birds upon the tree, Sing their sweetest songs for thee, Their sweetest songs for thee. Cooling gales with voices low, In the tree-top gently blow; When thou dost in slumbers lie, All things love thee, so do I: When thou dost in slumbers lio, All things love thee, so do I, All things love thee, All things love thee, '- All things love thee, so do L When thou Tmk'st, the eea will pour Treasures for thee to the shore; And the earth, in plant and tree, Bring forth fruit and flow'rs for thee; Fruit and flowers for thee.

Whilst the glorious stars above, Shine on thee like trusting love, When thou dost in slumbers he, All things love thee, so do I. Words by Charles Dickens. The walls must be crumbled, the stones decay'd, To pleasure his dainty whim ; And the mould'ring dust that years have made Is a merry meal for him. Creeping where no life is seen, A rare old plant is the Ivy green; Oh, creeping where no life is seen, A rare old plant is the Ivy green; Creeping, creeping, creeping where no life is seen, Creeping, creeping, a rare old plant is the Ivy green Fast he stealeth on, tho' he wears no wings, And a stanch old heart has he; How closely he twineth, how tight he clings, To his friend the huge oak tree!

And slyly he traileth along the ground, And his leaves he gently waves, As he joyously hugs and crawleth round The rich mould of dead men's graves. Creeping where, Ac Whole ages have fled, and their works decay'd, And nations have scatter'd been ; But the stout old Ivy shall never fade From its hale and hearty green ; The brave old plant in its lonely days Shall fatten upon the past; For the stateliest building man can raise, Is the Ivy's food at last. You have told me that you love me. And you heart's thoughts seem to speak, As you look on me so fondly, f cheek, And the life-blood, and the life-blood tints youi May I trust that these warm feelings Never will grow cold and strange ; And that you'll remain unaltered, In this weary world, this weary world of change?

When the shades of care or sorrow, Dim mine eyes and cloud my brow, And my spirit sinks within me, Will you love me, will you love me then as note t Though our youth may pass unclouded, In a peaceful, happy home; Yet, as year on year advances, Changes must, changes must upon us come. For the step will lose its lightness, And the hair be changed to grey; Eyes, once bright, give up their brightness, And the hopes of youth, the hopes of youth decay. When all these have passed upon me, And stern age has touch'd my brow; Will the change find you unchanging?

Will you lovo me, will you love me then as now? Words by Alfred Bumf. That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same; That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same. I dreamt that suitors sought my hand, That knights on bended knee, And with vows no maiden heart could withstand, They pledg'd their faith to me. And I'dreamt that one of that noble host Came forth that hand to claim ; But I also dreamt, which charm'd me most, That you lov'd me still the same.

They sought her that night, and they sought her next day, And they sought her in vain, when a week pass'd away, In the highest— the lowest — the loneliest spot, Young Lovel sought wildly, but found her not : And years flew by, and their grief at last Was told as a sorrowful tale long past; And when Lovel appear'd, the children cried, " See, the old man weeps for his fairy bride. At length an old chest that had long lain hid, Was found in the castle — they raised the lid, And a skeleton form lay mouldering there, In the bridal wreath of the lady fair! It closed with a spring!

Bayley, Esq. We met; 'twas in a crowd, and I thought he would shun me; He came— I could not breathe, for his eye was upon me, — He spoke— his words were cold, and his smile waa unalter'd, I knew how much he felt, for his deep-ton'd voice falter'd. And once again we met, and a fair girl was near him, He smiled and whisper'd low, as once I used to hear him; She leant upon his arm — once 'twas mine, and mine only, 1 wept, for I deserv'd to feel wretched and lonely : And she will be his bride — at the altar he'll give her The love that was too pure for a heartless deceiver; The world may think me gay, for my feelings I smother, thou hast been the cause of this anguish, my mother!

Thou know'st the spot : 'tis shaded qui to Beyond the rude intruder's sight, In that lone grove, at birth of night, There, love, there I'll meet thee. We'll live a lifetime in that hour, By love's all-hallow'd potent power; And love shall consecrate the bow'r Where, love, where I'll meet thee. I'll woo the night-bird and the rill With music, love, to treat thee: And thine enrapturd heart shall thrill Responsive, when I meet thee. Thus, while love-notes weave a spell, I'll tell thee all I have to tell, In that lone grove, — till then, farewell, There, love, there I'll meet thee.

Words by Thomas Haynes Bayley She wore a wreath of roses The night that first we met, 17 Her lovely face was smiling Beneath her curls of jet; Her footsteps had the lightness, Her voice the joyous tone — The tokens of a youthful heart, Where sorrow is unknown. I saw her but a moment, Yet methinks I see her now, With the wreath of summer flowcra Upon her snowy brow.

A wreath of orange blossoms, When next we met she wore, The expression of her features Was more thoughtful than before; And standing by her side was one Who strove, but not in vain, To soothe her, leaving that dear homo She ne'er might view again. I saw her but a moment, Yet methinks I see her now, With the wreath of orange blossoms Upon her snowy brow. And once again I see that brow, M o bridal wreath is there, The widow's sombre cap conceals Her once luxuriant hair; She weeps in silent solitude, And there is no one near To press her hand within his own, And wipe away the tear.

Words by Alfred Bunn. When coldness or deceit shall slighfc The beauty now they prize, And deem it but a faded light Which beams within your eyes; When hollow hearts shall wear a mask, 'Twill break your own to see, In such a moment I but ask That you'll remember me— That you'll remember me.


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Words by the Hon. We have been friends together, In sunshine and in shade, Since first beneath the chestnut trees In infancy we played : But coldness dwells within thy heart, A cloud is on thy brow; We have been friends together, Shall a light word part us now? We have been friends together, Shall a light word part us now! We have been gay together, We've laugh' d at little jests, For the fount of hope was gushing, Warm and joyous in our breasts; But laughter now hath fled thy lip, And sullen glooms thy brow; We have been gay together, Shall a light word part us now?

We have been gay together, Shall a light word part us now? We have been sad together, We've wept with bitter tears O'er the grass green graves where mouldering The hopes of early years. The voices which are silent there, Would bid thee clear thy brow; We have been sad together, Oh I what shall part us now? We have been sad together, Oh! Dream on, young hearts, dream on, dream on, But dream of all things gay; Dream that the morrow will be bright, As bright as yesterday, Wake not, wake not, from scenes of bliss, Youth's dreams are ever fair; Your world is a world of dreams, Wake not to hours of care.

Dream on, young hearts, dream on, dream OCj But dream of all things gay, Dream that the morrow will be bright. And sweet as yesterday. Through the wood, through the wood, follow and find me, Search every hollow, and dingle and dell; I leave not a print of a footstep behind me, So those who would seek me must seek for me well. Look in the lily-bell, ruffle the rose, Under the leaves of the violet peep; Lull'd by a zephyr, in cradles like those, All the day long you may find me asleep.

When the red sun sets at eve you may hear me, Singing farewell to his rays as they fade, But as soon as the step of a mortal is near me, I take to my wings and fly off to the shade. Through the wood, through the wood, follow and find me, Look in the lily-bell, ruffle the rose; Through the wood, through the wood, seek till you find me, Haste, for at nightfall the blossoms will close; Follow, follow, follow and find me. The kiss, dear maid, thy lip has left, Shall never part from mine, Till happier hours restore the gift, Untainted back to thine. Thy parting glance, which fondly beams, An equal love may see; The tear that from thine eyelid streams, Can weep no change in me.

I ask no pledge to make me blest In gazing, when alone; Nor one memorial of a breast Whose thoughts are all thine own. By day or night, in weal or woe, That heart no longer free, Must bear the love it cannot show, And silent weep for thee. Is there a heart that never lov'd, Nor felt soft woman's sigh? Is there a man can mark, unmov'd, Dear woman's tearful eye? Oh, England! Ever true, as the magnet still turns to the pole, I turn to dear England, the land of my soul!

They have given thee to another—thou art now his gentle bride, Had I lov'd thee as a brother, I could see thee by his side; But I know with gold they've won thee, and thy trusting heart beguil'd, Thy mother too doth shun me, for she knew I lov'd her child : Oh! I can only answer — never; Lost Rosabel. They have given her to another— she will love him too they say ; If hor memory do not chide her, oh! But I know that she bath spoken what she never can forget ; And tho' my poor heart be broken, it will love her, love her yet : Oh! Words by Geoege Linley. Words by Charles Jeffreys.

Thet wiled me from my greenwood homo, They won me from my tent, And slightingly they spake of scenes Where my young days were spent. They aazzled me with halls of light, But tears would sometimes stai't ; They thought 'twas but to charm the eye, And they might win my heart. They little knew what ties of love. Had bound me in their spell; The greenwood was my happiest home, And there I long'd to dwell. They gave me gems to bind my hair, I long'd the while for flowers, Fresh gather'd by my gipsy freres, From Nature's wildest bow'rs. They gave me books, I lov'd alone To read the starry skies ; They taught me songs, the songs I lov'd Were Nature's melodies.

I never heard a captive bird, But panting to be free, I long'd to burst his prison door, And share his liberty. The woods are green, the hedgea white, With leaves and blossoms fair; There's music in the forest now, And I too must be there. Yet I must to the greenwood go, My heart has long been there ; And nothing but the gi'eenwood now, Can save me from despair. That gentle heart, so prized by me,— May sorrow never grieve it! Should fortune's smile my labours crown, I then with thee will share it. Come weal or woe, my song shall be :— I love but thee — I love but thee.

As down the paths of life we stray, For thee cull the roses, And tear each rankling thorn away! That 'neath its leaves reposes. Oh, may thy life be ever gay, Round me though fortune lowers! Be thine the glorious light of day, And mine, night's storms and showers! I think of thee when the waveless sea Reflects the summer sun; I tbink of thee when light doth flee, And the weary day is done.

I see thee, love, when the clouds above In purple glory gleam, And see thee still in each purling rill, Where the night-queen leaves her btam. I hear thee, love, when the silent grove Is fann'd by zephyr's wing; My heart beats high, and I hear thee sigh In the wind's soft whispering. He's smiling in scorn — or he's smiling in jest; While three snow-white lilies he takes from his breast " A fair maid," says he, H Gave this token to me, But Lilla's a lady! The vessel spreads her swelling sails, Perhaps I never more may view Your fertile fields and flowery dales.

Delusive hope can charm no more; Far from the faithless maid I roam; Unfriended seek some foreign shore, Unpitied leave my peaceful home. Farewell, dear village, oh, farewell! Soft on the gale the murmer dies; I hear thy solemn evening bell : Thy spire yet glads mine aching eyes.

Though frequent falls the dazzling tear, I'd scorn to shrink at Fate's decree; Yet think not, cruel maid, that e'er I'll breathe another sigh for thee- In vain through shades of frowning sight, Mine eyes thy rocky coast explore; Deep sinks the fiery orb of light; I view thy beacons now no more. Rise, billows, rise! Nor night, nor storms, nor death I fear; Ye friendly bear me hence to find That peace which Fate denies me hero. Twould there have bloom'd lovely for many an hou?

And how soon will it perish with me? Already its beautiful texture decays, Already it fades on my sight; 'Tis thus that chill rancour too often o'erpowerflf The moments of transient delight. When eagerly pressing enjoyment too near, Its blossoms we gather in haste; How oft thus we mourn, with a penitent tear, O'er the joys which we lavish'd in waste; This elegant flower, had I left it at rest, Might still have delighted my eyes ; But pluck'd prematurely, and plac'd in my breast, It languishes, withers, and dies. She's all my fancy painted her— She's lovely, 6he's divine; But her heart, it is another's,— It never can be mine.

Yet lov'd I as man never lov'd, A love without decay; Oh! Her nut-brown hair is braided o'er A brow of spotless white; Her soft blue eye now languishes, Now flashes with delight. But her hair is braided not for me — Her eye is turn'd away; Oh! I've sunk beneath the summer sun, I've trembled in the blast; But my pilgrimage is nearly done — The weary conflict's past. And when the green turf wraps my grave, May pity haply say, Oh! Siitc never blam'd him, never; But rcceiv'd him, when he came, With a welcome kind as ever, And she tried to look the same; But vainly she dissembled — For whene'er she tried to smile, A tear unbidden, trembled, In her blue eye all the while.

She knew that she was dying, And she dreaded not her doom; She never thought of sighing O'er her beauty's blighted bloom. She knew her cheek was alter'd, sAnd she knew her eye was dim; Her voice, though, only falter'd When she spoke of losing him. Tis true that he had lur'd her From the isle where she was born— 'Tis true he had inur'd her To the cold world's cruel scorn; But yet she never blam'd him For the anguish she had known: And though she seldom named him, Yet she thought of him alone.


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She sigh'd when he caress'd her, For she knew that they must part; She spoke not when he prcss'd her To his young and panting heart. The banners wav'd around her And she heard the bugle's sound — They pass'd — and strangers found her Cold and lifeless on the ground. Words by L. When should lovers breathe their vows?

When should ladies hear them? When the dew is on the boughs, When none else are near them. When the moon shines cold and pale, When the birds are sleeping, When no voice is on the gale, When the rose is weeping. Deserted by the waning moon, When skies proclaim night's cheerless noon, On tower, or fort, or tented ground, The sentry walks his lonely round; And should a footstep haply stray Where caution marks the guarded way, Who goes there? A friend! Or sailing on the midnight deep, While weary messmates soundly sleep, The careful watch patrols the deck, To guard the ship from foes or wreck; And while his thoughts oft homeward veer, Some friendly voice salutes his ear, What cheer?

Bright, bright are the beams of the morning sky, And sweet dew the red blossoms sip, But brighter the glances on dear woman's eye, And sweeter the dew on her lip. Her mouth is the fountain of rapture, The source from whence purity flows, Ah! Then the toast, then the toast be dear woman, Let each breast that is manly approve ; Then the toast, then the toast be dear woman, And nine cheers for the girls that we love. Hip, hip, hip, hurra, hip, hip, hip hurra, Hurra, hurra, hurra, for the girls that we love. Hip, hip, hip, hurra, hip, hip, hip, hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra, And nine cheers for the girls that we love.

Come raise, raise the wine-cup to heaven high, Ye gods on Olympus approve, The off ring thus hallow'd by woman's bright eye, Outrivals the nectar of Jove. Now drain, drain the goblet with transport, The spell of life's best joys impart; The cup thus devoted to woman, Yields the only true balm of the heart. She is thine, the word is spoken, Hand to hand and heart to heart, Though all other ties be broken, Time these bonds shall never part. Thou hast taken her in gladness From the altar's holy shrine, Oh, remember her in sadness, She is thine, and only thine. In so fair a temple neve;- Aught of ill can hope to come, Good will strive, and, striving ever, Make so pure a shrine its home.

Each the other's love possessing, If sad cares should cloud thy brow, She will be to thee a blessing, And a shield to her be thou. Queen of merry, merry English hearts, Queen? Queen of lovely English maids, Of the snow-white breasts in Erin's glades, And the eyes that blink 'neath Scotia's plaids, Queen of beauty's smile. Queen of merry, merry English hearts, Ac England strews the rose for you, Erin's wild harp wakes anew, And Scotland waves her bonnet blue, Queen of beauty's smile.

Queen of merry, merry English hearts, Ac. So mind your looks, your children thenco Will early learn the task of duty ; The boys with all their father's sense, The girls with all their mother's beauty; Ah! Tiie chough and crow to roost a. The wild-fire dances on the fen, — The red star sheds its ray; Up-rouse ye, then, my merry men, It is our opening day.

Both child and nurse are fast asleep, And clos'd is every flower; And winking tapers faintly peeo High from my lady's bower: Bewilder'd hinds, with shorten'd ken, Shrink on their murky way ; Up-rouse ye, then, my merry men, It is our opening day. Noon lulls us in a gloomy den, And night has grown our day; Up-rouse ye, then, my merry men, And use it as you may. The herald of fame Attends on the name, 'Tis a passport to all that is free. On the sea or the land, Ever foremost they stand, Then gaily my burthen shall be — Tug men of merry, merry England, The men of merry, merry England.

Let the bottle pass, And toss another glass, To the men of merry, merry England. What need of all this fuss and strife, Each warring with his brother; Why need we through the crowd of life Keep trampling on each other? Is their no goal that can be won, Without a squeeze to gain it, No other way of getting on, But scrambling to obtain it?

Oh, fellowmen! What if the swarthy peasant find No field for honest labour? He need not idly stop behind. To thrust aside his neighbour. There is a land with sunny skies, Which gold for toil is giving, Where every brawny hand that tries Its strength, can grasp a living. The world is wide where those abide— There's room enough for all? Ever of thee I'm fondly di-eaming, Thy gentle voice my spirit can chee?

J Thou wert the star that mildly beaming, Shone on my path when all was dark and drear. Still in my heart thy form I cherish, Ev'ry kind word like a bird flies to thee. Ever of thee, when sad and lonely, Wandering afar, my soul's joy to dwell— Ah! I never said that I had lov'd No other girl but thee, I ne'er denied that I had rov'd Far o'er the wide, wide sea. But Mary why these troubled thoughts, Too oft you've doubted me ; I have, I know, too many faults, But I've been true to thee. Then, Mary, never let a thought 'Gainst me possess your heart, Unless you are with malice fraught, And wish from me to part.

And her arms along the deep proudly shone; By each gun the lighted brand, In a bold determined hand, And the prince of all the land Led them on. Like Leviathans afloat, Lay their bulwarks on the brine; While the sign of battle flew O'er the lofty British line; It was ten of April morn by the chime, As they drifted on their path, There was silence deep as death; And the boldest held his breath For a time.

But the might of England flush'd To anticipate the scene; And her van the fleeter rush'd, O'er the deadly space between. And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back;— Their shots along the deep slowly boom :— Then ceased — and all was wail As they strike the shattered sail.

Or, in conflagration pale, Light the gloom. ITow joy, old England, raise, For the tidings of thy might, By the festal cities' blaze, While the wine cup shines in light; Zlnd yet amidst that joy and uproar, Let us think of them that sleep, Full many a fathom deep, By thy wild and stormy steep, Elsinore 1 Brave hearts!

O'er Nelson's tomb with silent grief opprcss'd, Britannia mourn'd her hero now at rest, But those bright laurels ne'er shall fade with yeans, Vhose leaves are water'd by a nation's tear3. Our Nelson mark'd them on the wave, Three cheers our gallant seamen gave, Nor thought of home or beauty ; Along the line the signal ran, " England expects that every man, This day will do his duty. For vict'ry crown' d the day. But dearly was that conquest bought, Too well the gallant hero fought, For England, home, and beauty; He cried, as 'midst the fire he ran, " England expects that every man This day will do his duty.

When once in the Baltic two first-rates bore down, And hoisted an enemy's flag, What did we 2— why, fought them for Britain's re- nown, Till each bit of sail was a rag! And when they sheer'd off, boys! We hailed them with scoff, boys! But why should I boast of what seamen have done, When fighting in this or that fray? We'll grapple with death, boys! To raise British valour in story! Barry Cornwall. Hurrah for the land of England I Firm set in the subject sea ; Where the women are fair, And the men like air, Are all lovers of liberty!

Long life, without strife, for England! Hurrah, for the spirit of England I The merry, the true, the free ; Who stretcheth her hand, With a Queen's command, All over the circling sea!

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Long life, without strife, for England I 23 Let tyrants rush forth on the nations, And strive to chain down the free; But do Thou stand fast Prom the first to the last For "The Right," wheresoever it bet merry, merry England! Long life to the spirit of England! So, three cheers for merry England! For the Queen and the freemen of England! Suun as our bark has cleared the bay, We'll spread our nets by the moonlight ray; And, happy, ere 'tis break of day, We'll haul in our prize, yo, ho!

Who would exchange the mariner's life For landsmen's toil, their cares and strife? Or the surge's sound for the drum and fife? So cheerily pull, yo, ho! Ram home your guns and sponge them well, Let us be sure the balls will tell, The cannons' roar shall sound their knell I Be steady, boys, be steady! Not yet, nor yet, nor yet — reserve your firo, I do desire — Fire I Now the elements do rattle, TLe gods, amazed, behold the battle : A broadside, my boys! See the blood in purple tide Trickle down herbatter'd side ; Winged with fate the bullets fly- Conquer boys, or bravely die. Hurl destruction on your foes- She sinks — huzza 1 To the bottom down she goss!

At thy mandate, heroes assemble, When liberty's form stands in view, Thy banners make tyrants tremble, When borne by the red, wfcite, and b! Hay the service united ne'er sever, But still to her colours prove true, The Army and Navy for ever I Three cheers for the red, white, and blue! Away on the sea, away on the sea, W T ith the wild waves dashing around, To a life that ever is merry and free, Where true hearts are sure to be found. Whenever the call of his country rings, The bold British sailor will be As true to the last as his guiding star To Britannia, the Queen of the Sea, But victory won, he thinks of his home And lov'd ones, that absence endears; Fond faces, sweet smiles, seem to hover around, And eyes shining brightly through tears.

Such men are the boast and pride of our land, The noble, the hearty, the free; And true to the last, as needle to pole, To Britannia, the Queen of the Sea. For least when her proud flag she rcar3 High o'er the subject seas; The flag that brav'd a thousand years, The battle and the breeze. England, if still the patriot fires That warm'd the bosoms ot thy sires Dwell with their sons, what heart can fail, Long as there floats upon the gale, Thy Red Cross Banner, proudly free, Still to throb high for liberty?

When first on Albion's sea-girt shore, Her foot fair Freedom press' d, Its hills and vales she wander'd o'er, And thus the soil she bless'd : "Land of the fair, the free, the brave, Rule thou the rolling sea; There let thy Red Cross Banner wave The foremost of the free.

And while one single shred will fly, Lit by its glories past, England must lift that banner high, Must nail it to the mast; For England's sun will set in shame, And dark her doom must be. If e'er her vaunting foes should claim The Empire of the sea. Fair is the lily, sweet is the blushing rose, But that seems fairer, this more brightly glows, Blent with the laurel whose immortal green, Is fitting type for our own island Queen. Sweet as the blushing rose — as lily fair, She twines the laurel round her auburn hair, And aims at conquests — fearing not to lose A nation's love, she smilingly subdues; With natural graces all her charms and arts, Lov'd soon as seen, she reigns the Queen of Hoart3, Aik.

Tbe boast of old England, the pride of our Queen, The shield of our freedom and glory, Her gallant defender — the navy I mean — Whose deeds are recorded in story. Her race on the ocean has won every prize, No foe could her strength e'er dissever; Then fill up a bumper — Britannia arise — Here's the Queen and the Navy for ever!

When war spread destruction and terror on earth, And filled every heart with commotion, Free from carnage and spoil was the land of our birth, Through the brave British tars on the ocean. Long life to their glory! Words by Blockley. Britannia, regardless of traitors and foes, Triumphantly rides on the billow : Behold her majestic in peaceful repose, The deep rolling ocean her pillow.

Serenely she rests 'neath her banner unfurl'd, While fame with fond praise writes her story, Her union-jack proclaims to the world, The might of her grandeur and glory. Should war blow her clarion with fury and strife, And terrify cowardly railers, A thousand swords flashing will leap into life, In the hands of our soldiers and sailors. A SONG! How many a brave man falls : The foe with colours strike and call For quarter from each tar, And quail beneath the power which guards The British Man-of-war.

Though tempest, war, and age have made Sad havoc with her frame, Yet British hearts can prove her still Well worthy of her name. And in the coming struggle with The Despot and his slaves, The foe shall find Britannia still Has power to rule the waves. Then raise a shout for "Britain's pride," The glory of each tar ; And toast in bumpers three-times-three, The British Man-of-war. Poor Joe, the marino, was at Portsmouth well known, No lad in the corps dress'd so smart; The lasses ne'er look'd on the youth with a frown, His manliness won ev'ry heart.

Sweet Polly, of Portsea, he took for his bride, And surely there never was seen A couple so gay march to church side by side, As Polly and Joe, the marine. The bright torch of Hymen was scarcely in blaze, When thundering drums they heard rattle; And Joe, in an instant, was forced to the seas, To give the bold enemy battle.

The action was dreadful, — each ship a mera wreck, — Such slaughter few sailors have seen; Two hundred brave fellows lay strew'd on the deck, And among them, poor Joe, the marine. But victory, faithful to true British tars, At length put an end to the fight, And homeward they steer'd full of glory and scars, And soon had famed Portsmouth in sight. The ramparts were crowded, the heroes to greet, And foremost sweet Polly was seen; The very first sailor she happen'd to meet Told the fate of poor Joe, the marine. The shock was severe; swift as lightning's fork'd dart, Her poor brain with wild frenzy fired; She flew from the crowd; softly cried, "My pcor heart 1" Clasp'd her hands, faintly sigh 'a, and ezpir'd.

Her body was laid 'neath a wide-spreading yew, And on a smooth stone may be seen! Awake; ye lion hearts of yore, Ye dwellers of the sea. Reclaim the rights your fathers wore, The wide wave's mastery. There's still a power thy fame would blight Though oft it strove in vain, To quell thy might — to doubt thy right To rule upon the main. Then rise ye lion hearts of old, Unfurl your flag again, For the honour of old England, A 7id her victories on the main. Leap up, ye gallant hearts of old, And let your signal be, The foremost blow from the strongest foo, To drive them from the sea; Then prove, ye lion hearts of yore, Ye have not slept in vain.

For the honour, tc, Then up, ye gallant hearts, again, Still, still, a sturdy band; "We've mighty ships upon the main, And oaks upon the land: And while true British hearts unite To guard our native shore, Will Britons keep over all the deep The fame they won of yore. Then up, ye lion hearts of old, Unfurl your flags again.

The sea is merry England's And England's shall remain, While Britain's sons have hearts of oak Her freedom to maintain ; And as her gallant vessels sail Amid the foaming tide, It bears them up as if it knew It nurs'd Britannia's pride. So sing we ever boldly, With honest might and main, The sea is merry England's, And England's shall remain. The sea is merry England's, We'll use it as we ought, In spreading wide her native wealth, To every distant port. May peace long reign throughout the world, Is Britain's earnest pray'r; But should war's banner be unfurl'd, Her sons will danger dare.

Be proud that ye are Englishmen, And raise aloud the cry, " Our flag's unfurled o'er all the world, An Englishman am 1 1" nurrah! Take ye the red cross banner, boys, And nail it to the mast, A broadside for Old England, boys, Defend her to the last. And when ye fight in Freedom's cause, Think on the glories past; Beneath Old England's tattered flag, Defend her to the last.

Britannia's name from age to ago, Has like her cliffs stood fast, And promises, in history's page, In honour long to last. Her sailors, rulers of the sea, — Her soldiers, of that soil On which the industrious peasantry. To give it value, toil ; All, all shall hail Britannia's name, By glory handed down to fame! Then sing our tars, who boldly roam Our glory to insure; And sing our soldiers, who at homo That glory well secure; And sing our peasants, at a word, Who of mankind the friend, Would turn each ploughshare to a sword, Their country to defend.

Far, far upon the sea, The good ship speeding free, Upon the deck we gather young and old; And view the flapping sail. Swelling oxit before the gale, Full and round without a wrinkle or a fold. Far, far upon the sea, The good ship speeding free, We watch the sea-birds follow thro' the air; Or we gather in a ring, And with cheerful voices sing, Oh! Far, fav upon the sea, With the sunshine on our lee, We talk of pleasant days when we were young; And remember though we roam, The sweet melodies of home, The songs of happy childhood which we sung; And though we quit her shore To return to it no more, Sound the glories that Britannia yet shall hear, That Britons rule the waves, And never shall be slaves, Oh!

Far, far upon the sea, With the sunshine on our lee, Sound the glories that Britannia yet shall hear, That Britons rule the waves, And never shall be slaves, Oh! Patrick's Morning," void of care; And thus we pass the day, As we journey on our way, Oh! Far, far upon the sea, "Whate'er our country be, Well sing our native music, void of care; And thus we pass the day, As we journey on our way, Oh! Come, cheer up, my lads, 'tis to glory we steer, ro add something more to this wonderful year; ' To honour we call you, not press you like slaves For who are so free as we sons of the waves I Hearts of oak are our ships, Jolly tars are our men; We always are ready, Steady, boys, steady, We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.

We ne'er see our foes but we wish them to stay, They never see us but they wish us away ; If they run, why we follow, and run them ashoi-e, For if they wont fight us what can we do more? They swear they'll invade us, these terrible foes, They frighten our women, our children, and beaux ; But should their flat bottoms in darkness get o'er, Still Britons they'll find to receive them on shore. How gallantly, how merrily We ride along the sea 1 The morning is all sunshine, The wind is blowing free : The billows are all sparkling, And bounding in the light, Like creatures in whose sunny veins The blood is running bright.

All nature knows our triumph, Strange birds about us sweep; Strange things come up to look at us, The masters of the deep : In our wake, like any servant, Follows even the bold shark; Oh, proud must be our admiral Of such a bonny barque J How proud must be our admiral Though he is pale to-day , Of twice five hundred iron men, Who all his nod obey; Who fought for him, and conquered, Who've won, with sweat and gore, Nobility, which he shall have Whene'er we touch the shore. I'd shout e'en to yon shark, there," Who follows in our lee, " Some day I'll make thee carry me, Like lightning, through the sea.

Still talked ho to his officers, And smiled upon his crew ; And he looked up at the heavens, And he looked down on the sea, And at last, he spied the creature, That kept following in our lee. He shook— 'twas but an instant; For speedily the pride Ban crimson to his heart, Till all chances he defied : It threw boldness on his forehead It gave firmness to his breath; And he stood like some grim warrici New risen up from death.

That night, a horrid whisper Fell on us where we lay ; And we knew our fine old admiral Was changing into clay; And we heard the wash of waters, Though nothing could we see, And a whistle and a plunge Among the billows on our lee. Come all ye joily sailors bold,? She is a frigate tight and brave As ever stemm'd the dashing wave; Her men are staunch, To their fav'rite launch ; And when the foe shall meet our fire, Sooner than strike we'll all expire, On board of the Arethusa.

The famed Belle Poole straight a-head did lie, The Arethusa seem'd to fly. On deck five hundred men did dance, The stoutest they could find in France; We with two hundred did advance, On board of the Arethusa. Our captain hail'd the Frenchman, ho! The Frenchman then cried out, hallo! The fight was off the Frenchmen's land, We forced them back upon the strand. For we fought till not a stick would stand Of the gallant Arethusa.

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And now we've driven the foe ashore, Never to fight with Britons more, Let each fill a glass To his fav'rite lass! On, Pilot! Go down, the sailor cried, go down, This is no place for thee; Fear not! Pilot, dangers often met, We all are apt to slight, And thou hast known these raging waves But to subdue their might. It is not apathy, he cried, That gives this strength to me ; Fear not I but trust in Providence, Wherever thou may'st be. On such a night, the sea engulph'd My father's lifeless form ; My only brother's boat went down In just so wild a storm; And such, perhaps, may be thy fate, But still I say to thee, Fear not!

Loud roared the dreadful thunder, The rain a deluge showers; The clouds were rent asunder, By lightning's vivid powers; The night, both drear and dark, Our poor devoted bark, There she lay, till next day, In the Bay of Biscay, 1 Now dashed upon the billow, Her op'ning timbers creak; Each fears a wat'ry pillow, None stops the dreadful leak; To cling to slipp'ry shrouds, Each breathless seaman crowds, As she lay, till next day, In the Bay of Biscay,!

At length the wish'd for morrow Broke through the hazy sky; Absorb'd in silent sorrow, Each heaved the bitter sigh; The dismal wreck to view, Struck horror to our crew, As she lay, on that day, In the Bay of Biscay, 1 Her yielding timbers sever, Her pitchy seams are rent ; When heaven, all bounteous ever, Its boundless mercy sent; A sail' in sight appears!

We hail her with three cheers : Now we sail, with the gale, From the Bay of Biscay,! Words by Allan Cunningham. Music by J. A WET sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast. And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While like the eagle, free.

Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. The wild waves heaving high, my boys, With the good ship tight and free — The world of waters is our home, And merry men are we. There's tempest in yon horned moon, And lightning in yon cloud, And hark!

The wind is piping loud. The wind is piping loud, my boys, The lightning flashes free, Whilst the hollow sail our palace is, Our heritage the sea. Away, away, I may not stand Where flow'rs and foliage be, This dull, small, quiet spot of land, Is all too tame for me. Three times I've travelled round the world, Within yon frigate free, Again her canvass is unfurl'd — Hurrah 1 I'm off to sea. The birds that hover in the air, Are happier far than we, I'd something of their freedom share,— Hurrah 1 I'm off to sea.

A thought, a cheering word, a sigh, For friends and kindred here, A fervent wish, a fond good-bye, For one more lov'd and dear. A shout for all that gallant crew, Who plough the main with me, A parting look — a last adieu, — Hurrah 1 I'm off to sea. The sturdy pilots put to sea, Over the waves went they; For a ship's dim form in the rising storm, Came on her trackless way. They saw afar, each tapering spar Of a ship, whose trembling sails Too fragile were for the tempest there, And rent by the storm's rude gales.

Then cheer for the pilots, whoever you be, Cheer for the pilots, whoever you be, Then cheer for the pilots, whoever you be, Who have anxiously watched for a friend on tho sea I The storm raged high, and the rocks were nigh, But the pilots' bark was driven Far, far aback from the vessel's track, Which they to reach had striven; And darkness came, save when the flame Of the vivid lightning threw A light, that bore to their friends on shoro, The ship, but no pilots' crew.

Then cheer for the pilots, whoever you bo, Cheer for the pilots, whoever you be, Then cheer for the pilots, whoever you be, Who have anxiously watched for a friend on the sea! The storm was o'er, and a calm once more Was over the sea and sky, The ships with the tide in the harbour glide, But no pilots' bark was nigh; A mariner's form 'mid the wrecks of the storm Was seen on the ebbing wave, Its pulse was cold, and a tale it told, That the deep was the pilots' grave. Then cheer for the pilots, whoever you be, Cheer for the pilots, whoever you be, Then cheer for the pilots, whoever you be, Who brave even death for our friends on the sea.

Let him who sighs in sadness here, Rejoice and know a friend is near. What heavenly sounds are those I hear? What being comes the gloom to cheer? When in the storm on Albion's coast, The night-watch guards his wary post, From thoughts of danger free. He marks some vessel's dusky form, And hears amid the howling storm The minute gun at sea, The minute gun at sea.

And hears amid the howling storm The minute gun at sea. Swift on the shore a hardy few The life-boat man with a gallant crew, And dare the dang'rous wave; Through the wild surf they cleave their way, Lost in the foam, nor know dismay — For they go the crew to save, For they go the crew to save. Lost in the foam, nor know dismay — For they go the crew to save. But, 0, what rapture fills each breast, Of the hopeless crew of the ship distress'd! Then landed safe, what joys to tell Of all the dangers that befell!

Cheer up, cheer up, my mother dear, Oh 1 why do you sit and weep? Do you think that He who guards' rne here, Forsakes me on the deep? Let hope and faith illume the glanco, That sees the bark set sail 1 Look! The storm was long, but it found me true, So, mother, be proud of your boy in blue. And if the breakers kill our ship, And your boy goes down in the foam, Be sure the last breath on his lip, Is a prayer for those at home. But come,' cheer up! But never weep for your boy in blue.

Btill chiming seems the Sabbath bell, As sweetly as of yoro, And once again he roams the fields, And sees his cottage door. In her arms his mother folds him, With affections fond caress j His gent! With the storm loud thunders mingle; O'er the ship the billows flow. From his hammock starts the sailor — He rushes to the deck — The vessel's sails, with lightning, blase; She sinks — a burning wreck. To a mast the winds have riven The sailor madly clings, His fearful parting knell of death The tempest loudly rings. All is dark and drear around, Not a star beams o'er the wavo, As ocean-spirits bear him To tho sailor's shroudless gravo.

In vain for him the birds shall smg, The hawthorn deck the tree ; For, slumbering on the sand, hclic3 Beneath the swelling sea. Oh, where are happy childhood's scenes? Where now the chiming bell? The fields o'er which he used to stray? The cot he lov'd so well? For ever lost!


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