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But the doubtful skirmish done,
Blythe she sings, at set of sun, Lira lira la, lira lira la,
With her jolly soldier.
Should the captain of her dear,
Use his vain endeavour, Whisp'ring nonsense in her ear,
Two fond hearts to sever; At his passion she will scoff,
Laughing, she will put him off, Lira lira la, lira lira la,
For her jolly soldier.
MY HEART WITH LOVE IS BEATING,
Tune“ The maid of Lodi.”
Transported by your eyes;
In vain a captive flies.
Why turn thine eyes away ?
Alas! I must obey.
Could valour gain your charms,
Against a world in arms.
A prostrate warrior view,
Are centr'd all in you.
THE DYING THRUSH.
As flutt'ring in a field of snow;
Awhile its heart forgot to glow: With eager haste he homeward ran,
The quiv'ring charge to me resign'd; Oh! save it, Celia, if you can,
Protect it from the wintry wind.
My bosom press'd the trembling thing,
And bade its little pris'ner live; But ah! that bosom felt a sting,
The panting warbler ne'er could give. With fond concern, young Edwy cried
Can Celia save the tender thrush? Perhaps, I said--and foolish sigh’d,
Which shame converted to a blush !
He cried, my Celia, why that sigh?
And why that blush?the bird is free; But pity beams in Celia's eye,
Ah ! let it, fair one, beam on me! My heart approv'd his pleasing claim,
Which fain to hide the rebel strove; For pity bore a dearer name,
'Twas now converted into love?
THO' LOVE IS WARM AWHILE.
Soon it grows cold;
When he grows old!
Dearest, thy love was mine,
Ere love was cold!
Faithful, my fair!
Still absence bear?
Welcome despair !
THE COTTAGER'S DAUGHTER.
O say have you met the sweet nymph in your way? Transcendent as Venus, and blythe as Aurora,
From Neptune's bed rising to hail the new day. orlorn do I wander, and long time have sought her,
The fairest, the rarest, for ever my theme; goddess in form, tho' a cottager's daughter, That dwells on the borders of Aln's winding stream.
Cho'lordlings so gay, and young squires have sought her,
To link her fair hand in the conjugal chain, Devoid of ambition, the cottager's daughter
Convinc'd them their flattery and offers were vain, Vhen first I beheld her, I fondly besought her ;
My heart did her homage, and love was her theme; he vow'd to be mine, the sweet cottager's daughter, | That dwells on the borders of Aln's winding stream.
Then why thus alone does she leave me to languish:
Pastora to splendour could ne'er yield her hand; Ah, no! she returns to remove my fond anguish,
O'er her heart love and truth retain the command The wealth of Golconda could never have bought he
For love, truth, and constancy, still is her theme; Then give me, kind Hymen, the cottager's daughter,
That dwells on the borders of Aln's winding strea
CANST THOU LEAVE ME THUS, MY KATY.
TUNE— Roy's Wife.”.
And canst thou leave me thus for pity?
Thus cruelly to part, my Katy?
Canst thou, &c.
Farewell ! and ne'er such sorrows tear
That fickle heart of thine, my Katy!
" This charming little piece is by Burns, which he informs us he composed while making two or three turns across his room, and taking so many pinches of Irish blackguard. In this song the traits of their favourite bard will be easily recognised by the amateurs of rustic poetry, although out of his native garb; and
Far, far from love and thee, Mary;
It will not waken me, Mary!
I may not, dare not, fancy now
And all it promised me, Mary.
the following appearance, in reply, of a young and beautiful English woman, in the costume of Scottish minstrelsy, is nothing short of enchanting.
Stay my Wilie-yet believe me,
And a' my wrongs shall be forgiven,
Stay, my Willie, &c.
But to think I was betrayed,
That falsehood e'er our loves should sunder!
Stay, my Willie, 8c.
Celestial pleasures might I choose 'em,
Stay, my Willie, 8c.