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Aye, and chaunted old ballads so pretty, 'Till I married and then I declare,

Lord my vife put an end to my ditty.
Rum ti idity, &c.

My heart is as tender as vax,

And her scolding oft makes me to sob, sir,
Because she my calling did tax

As a low one, and calls me a snob sir,
My pipe she oft breaks when I smoke,
Says drinking's by no means the dandy,
Though d'ye mind, the best part of the joke
Is she drinks nothing stronger than brandy.
Rum ti idity, &c.

To escape her terrible den,

To be sure sirs, I thought to make vone day,
With her gossips while swigging of gin,
I slip'd out on a cruize vone Saint Monday,
With a tailor and two or three more,

At nine pins I play'd, sirs, right snugly,
Till my rib she bounc'd in at the door,
And look'd as she'd gove us the ugly.
Rum ti idity, &c.

Then she tipt me a terrible scowl,

And swore she with us would be playing, At the tailor she then threw the bowl,

Who knock'd down, 'mong the nine pins was

laying.

The glasses and pots flew about,

A row was dish'd up with the gravy,

And poor I, for to finish the rout,

Struck my colours and cried out peccavi.
Rum ti idity, &c.

GIVE ME THE GALLANT BRITISH TAR,

THE sun, that on my native isle
With milder radiance deigns to smile,

Spares the sweet blushing maid it warms,
Nor rifles, but refines her charms;

Whilst you, that drive your panting flocks
To dreary wastes o'er barren rocks,
Where, in the rolling sand immers'd,
The patient camel dies for thirst,
Know how in vain it were to seek
For bloom upon the Moorish cheek,
Away! some darker damsel try
More to your taste-and pass me by

I do not, like the savage grace
Of wisker'd lip and tawney face;
The sly Italian's grin I dread,

The Frenchman's gabble splits my head,
I left the stiff and stately Don
Of proud Castile go strutting on,
For Russ or German, Dahe or Dutch,
In troth I care not over-mutch:
Give me the gallant British Tar,
Who, 'midst the thunder of the war,
Will plunge into the briny wave
His vanquish'd sinking foe to save,

THE YORKSHIREMAN.

BY the side of a bridge which stands over a brook,
I was sent betimes to school;

I went with the stream as I studied my book,
And was thought to be no small fool.

I never yet bought a pig in a poke,

For to give every one his due,

Though oft I have dealt wi' Yorkshire folk,
Yet I was Yorkshire too.

I was pretty well lik'd by each village maid,
At races, wake, or fair,

For my father had addled a vast in trade,
And I were his son and heir.

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And seeing that I didn't want for brass,
Poor girls came first to woo,

But though I delight in a Yorkshire lass,
Yet I were Yorkshire too.

To London by father I was sent,
Genteeler fashions to see,

But fashion's too dear, I came back as I went,
And so they made nothing o' me.

My kind relations would soon ha' found out
What was best wi' my money to do:
Says I, my dear cousins, I thank you for nonght,
But I am not to be cozen'd by you.

THE GENIUS OF BRITAIN.

YE British sons, awake to glory,

Hark! hark! what myriads round you rise;
Your Children, Wives and Grandsires hoary,
Behold their tears, and hear their cries.

Shall Bonaparte, mischief breeding,
With hireling hosts, a ruffian band,
Affright and desolate our land,
Our peace and liberty lie bleeding,
By a savage tyrant's hand?

To arms! to arms! ye brave,
Th' avenging sword unsheath;

March on, march on, all hearts resclv'd
On victory or death.

Now, the threaten'd storm is rolling,
Which our foes have dar'd to raise;
The dogs of war let loose are howling,
And in their wish our cities blaze.

And shall we bascly view the ruin,
While lawless force, with guilty stride,
Spreads desolation far and wide,

With crimes and blood his hands imbruing?

To arms! to arms! &c.

With luxury and pride surrounded,
The vile insatiate despot dare,
His thirst of power and gold unbounded,
T' invade a people free as air.

As beasts of burden he would-loads us,
Like God who bids us him adore!
But man is man-and who is more!
Then shall he longer threat t' invade us
To arms! to arms! &c.

O Liberty! can we resign thee,
Once having felt thy gen'rous flame?
Can a tyrant's threats confine thee,
Or whip thy noble spirit tame?

Too long the world has wept, bewailing
That Murder's dagger tyrants wield;
But Freedom is our sword and shield,
And all their threats are unavailing.

To arms! to arms! &c.

THE GALLEY SLAVE.

OH, think on my fate! once I freedom enjoy'd,
Was as happy as happy could be,

But pleasure is fled! even hope is destroy'd,
A captive, alas! on the sea.

I was ta'en by the foe, 'twas the fiat of fate,
To tear me from her I adore,

When thought brings to my mind my once happy

estate,

I sigh! while I tug at the oar.

Hard, hard, is my fate! Oh how galling my chain! My life's steer'd by misery's chart;

And though 'gainst my tyrants I scorn to complain, Tears gush forth to ease my full heart.

I disdain e'en to shrink, tho' I feel the sharp lash; Yet my breast bleeds for her I adore,

While around me the unfeeling billows wilt dash
I sigh! and still tug at the oar.

How fortune deceives! I had pleasure in tow,
The port where she dwelt, we'd in view,
But the wish'd nuptial morn was o'erclouded with

woe

And, dear Anna! I hurried from you, Our shallop was boarded, and I borne away, To behold my dear Anna no more,

But despair wastes my spirits, my form feels decay-He sigh'd--and expir'd at the car.

STEADY SHE GOES.

THE British tar no peril knows;
But, fearless, braves the angry deep:
The ship's his cradle of repose,

And sweetly rocks him to his sleep,
He, tho' the raging surges swell,
In his hammock swings,

While the steersman sings,

Steady she goes--all's well.

While on the main-top yard he springs,
An English vessel heaves in view;

He asks--but it no letter brings

From bonny Kate, he loves so true; Then sighs he for his native dell,

Yet to hope he clings,

When the steersman sings

Steady she goes--all's well.

The storm is pass'd--the battle's o'er,
Nature and man repose in peace;
Then homeward bound, on England's shore
He hopes for joys that ne'er will cease,
His Kate's sweet voice those joys foretel,
And his big heart springs,

While the steersman sings

Steady she goes--all's well.

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