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It scented ev'ry breeze

That wanton'd o'er the stream,
Or trembled thro' the trees

To meet the morning beam.

To deck that beauteous maid,
Its fragrance can't excel;
From some celestial shade
The damask charmer fell:
And as her balmy sweets
On Chloe's breast she pours,
The queen of beauty greets
The gentle queen of flow'rs.

HAVE YOU FORGOT, ETC.

ALLINGHAM.

-GOULDING, LONDON.-M. P. KING.

Sung by Miss De Camp.

HAVE you forgot the masquerade,
Where thus I danc'd, and thus I play'd,
And where a thousand times you said,
"I'm yours for ever, lovely maid?"
Tira lira la.

Yes, you've forgot the love you feign'd;
Those vows were made but to deceive:
The heart by specious arts once gain'd,
Without one kind adieu, you leave.

Tira lira la.

Now quite forgot, &c. &c.

REYNOLDS.

CASTANET SONG.

-DALE, LONDON.

Sung by Miss De Camp.

REEVE.

OH, we merry little Spanish girls are ever free from woes

We prattle and rattle wherever we go:

O'er the mountains so lofty, thro' vallies so bright, We trip it and skip it, from morning till night.

When we're courted by the old men, our scorn we disclose;

But when lov'd by the young and bold men, c'est toute autre chose.

We've a happy knack,

With our tick a tack,

Ting ting a ring a ring a ring.

Should my lover prove a cruel swain, I'd never fume or fret,

But titter and chatter, and flirt and coquette;

For if sorrow once should wrinkle this beautiful face,
My skipping and tripping are quite out of place;
And the silly fickle creature his pity then shews;
But if beauty gilds each feature, c'est toute autre chose.
We've a happy knack,

With our tick a tack.

Ting ting a ring a ring a ring.

F

RANNIE.

HE SLEEPS IN YONDER, ETC.

-GOULDING, LONDON.-DR CALCOTT,

Sung at the Nobility's Concert.

WHILE o'er thy cheek, desponding maid,
The tear of Sorrow hangs so pale,
Why mov'st thou tow'rd the mournful shade?
Why stray thy steps to yonder vale,
Where, wrapt in Love's delightful dream,
We sang beneath the fairy glade,
When, trembling o'er the silver stream,
The yellow moon-beams form'd a shade?

Thy lover, at the wonted hour,

Chides not thy stay with tender haste; His gentle form, in yonder bower,

Is now to Earth's cold pillow prest! Pale as the flower whose snowy bell Hangs weeping near the winding wave, He lies in yonder lonely vale

He sleeps in yonder dewy grave!

With tender songs, to soothe his shade,
The Muses throng'd around his bier;
On yonder shrine pale Pity bled,

And Friendship shed her warmest tear!
And still his fate the tear, will move,

While Virtue lives his worth to own,-
Whose heart was the abode of Love,

And meek Compassion's tender throne!

ΑΝΟΝ,

FLOW, THOU REGAL, ETC.

DALE, LONDON.

Sung by Mr Bowden.

FLOW, thou regal purple stream,
Tincted by the solar beam;
In my goblet sparkling rise,

Cheer my heart, and glad my eyes:
Flow, thou, &c.

My brain, ascend on Fancy's wing;
'Noint me, wine, a jovial king:
My brain, ascend, &c.

While I live, I'll lave my clay;

When I'm dead and gone away,

Let my thirsty subjects say,

A month he reign'd, and that was May:
While I live, &c.

COBB.

LULLABY.

-DALE, LONDON.

Sung by Madame Storace.

PEACEFUL slumb'ring on the ocean,
Seamen fear no danger nigh;

The winds and waves, in gentle motion,
Soothe them with their lullaby,

Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby, lullaby,

Soothe them with their lullaby.

ARNOLD.

STORACE.

COBB.

Is the wind tempestuous blowing,
Still no danger they descry;
The guileless heart, its boon bestowing,
Soothes them with its lullaby,
Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby, lullaby,

Soothes them with its lullaby.

MY NATIVE LAND, ETC.

LONGMAN, LONDON.STORACE. Sung by Mr Sedgewick.

MY native land I bade adieu,

And calmly Friendship's joys resign'd;
But, ah! how keen my sorrows grew,
When my true-love I left behind!
But should her truth feel no decay,
And absence prove my fair-one kind,

Then shall not I lament the day
When my true-love I left behind.

F. DIBDIN.

THE HEART OF A SAILOR.

CORRI, LONDON.

Sung by Mr Brabam.

'TIS n't the jacket nor trowsers blue,
The song or the grog so cheerly,
That shew us the heart of a seaman true,
Or tell us his manners sincerely:

BRAHAM.

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