The billows of danger have stemm'd without dread, Now faintly I struggle, now beg for my bread ! Give relief to, &c.

Assist me, he said; the words tremblingly hung In accents most piteous on the vet'ran's tongue; When the grim King of Terrors his sufferings re-, garded,

And snatch'd him from hence, to where virtue's rewarded!

Death gave relief to, &c.

WHAT'S THE MATTER?

FAIR and plump was the maiden I took for a wife.
And her look it was loving and smugly:
To be sure, and she led me a queer kind of life,
And her face it was cursedly ugly.

Then clackaty-clack went her tongue like a mill,
Pretty Sue was so given to chatter,

Not in bed e'en at night would her clapper lie still, Though the devil should ask, What's the matter?

Then at church she was always a saint most demure,

And seem'd for her sins all contrition;

But Psalmist, the clerk, did't think so, be sure,
When he threw out a winking petition;

For some how or other he told her a tale,
Pretty Sue cou'dn't ward off or parry,

This I've cause to remember, and long shall be wail,

What a fool was poor Esop to marry!

HARVEST HOME.

COME lay by the sickle till next Summer season, Our hopes are completed, our harvest is

crown'd;

To recompence labour, 'tis nothing but reason, With heart giving cheer let the pitcher go round,

CHORUS.

Then let us be joyous,
For what should annoy us

Since Nature her usual kindness out-tops;

Come-see-rural festivity,
Peasants rejoicing o'er plentiful crops.

No words to the ear of a Peasant are sweeter,
More pleasing no sound than to hear harvest

home;

The banquet of mirth is an English Champetre, Where all drink success to the plough and the loom.

CHORUS. Then let us be joyous, &c. To comfort the hearts of the Poor-why are many, If justice prevails, very soon will be found Twelve ounces of good household bread for one penny,

And beef, the prime prices, at four-pence per pound.

CHORUS. Then let us be joyous, &c.

The jorum push round, hearty cheer is before us,
So kind, and so glorious a harvest to view!
We dance, drink and sing--joining all in the chorus,
That peace to crown plenty may quickly ensue.'

--CHORUS.

Then let us be joyous,

For what can annoy us,

Since Nature her usual kindness out-tops;
Come-sec-rural festivity,

Peasants rejoicing o'er plentiful crops.

THE FLITCH OF BACON.

SINCE Dick and Nell were man and wife, They lov'd each other dearly;

Their days had all been free from strife,
And time had glided cheerly.

They thought of all the wedded throng,
Their plea must first be taken;
So cheek by jowl they jogg'd along,
To claim the Flitch of Bacon.

Now on the road, says Dick to Nell,
If things are manag'd fairly,
In future we'll do passing well-
Odsbods! we'll guttle rarely!'
We ne'er have quarrel'd day or night;
So faith I'm much mistaken
If e'er a pair had half the right
To claim the Flitch of Bacon.

My dear, says Nell, to sell the Flitch,
Do let me now. persuade ye;
'Twill help to make you mainly rich,
And I so fine a lady!

So say no more, but let the prize
To market straight be taken;
For sure 'twill prove us monstrous wise
To sell the Flitch of Bacon.

Now each persisting, tit for tat,
On their respective cases,

They fong ht at last like dog and cat,
And scratch'd each other's faces.
1hs those who try to gut their fish
Before 'tis sately taken,

Like Dick and Nell, oft spoil their dish
Who lost the Flitch of Bacon.

**

POOR DICK MEADOWS.

POOR Dick Meadows, young and blooming,
Liv'd belov'd by all he knew;
Manly, gay, and unassuming,
Ever to his Mary true.
Poverty, though unlamented,
Long had hover'd o'er his cot;
Poor Dick Meadows liv'd contented,
Mary's smiles enrich'd his lot.

Poor Dick Meadows nobly scorning,
What his comrades could bestow,
Ere the lark proclaim'd the morning,
Sought the forest with his bow.
There the timid game pursuing,
Danger, fear he heeded not;
Poor Dick Meadows, met his ruin;
Death untimely was his lot.

Poor Dick Meadows, rashly daring ;
Cliffs that bound the craggy shore,
Hapless victim! fell despairing
Ne'er to see his Mary more.
From the cottage wildly flying,

Chance soon brought her to the spot;
Poor Dick Meadows there was dying:
Mary shriek'd, and shar'd his lot.

THE HUNTING OF THE HARE.

SONGS of Shepherds, in rustical roundelays, Form'd in fancy and whistl'd on reeds, Sung to solace young nymphs upon holidays, Are too unworthy for wonderful deeds, Sottish Silenus

To Phoebus the genius

Was sent by dame Venus, a song to prepare, In phrase nicely coin'd,

And verse quite refin'd,

How the states divine hunted the hare,

Stars quite tir'd with pastimes Olympical,
Stars and Planets which beautifully shone,
Could no longer endure that men only shall
Swim in pleasure, and they but look on;
Round about horned

Lucina they swarmed,

And her informed how minded they were,
Each God and Goddess,

To take human bodies,

As Lords and Ladies, to follow the hare.
Chaste Diana applauded the motion,

While pale Proserpina sat in her place,
To light the welkin, and govern the ocean,
While she conducted her nephews in chace;
By her example,

Their father to trample,

The earth old and ample, they soon leave the air; Neptune the water,

And wine Liber Pater,

And Mars the slaughter, to follow the hare.

Light God Cupid was mounted on Pagasus,
Borrow'd of the Muses with kisses and pray'rs;
Strong Alcides, upon cloudy Caucasus,

Mounts a centaur, which proudly him bears;
Postillion of the sky,
Light-heel'd Mercury

Made his courser fly, fleet as the air;
While tuneful Apollo

The kennel did follow,

And hoop and holoo, boys, after the hare..
Drown'd Narcissus from his metamorphosis,
Rous'd Echo, new manhood did take;
Snoring Somnus upstarted from Cimmeris,
Before for a thousand years he did not wake;
There was club-footed
Mulciber bocted,

And Pan promoted on Corydon's mare;
Proud Pallas pouted,

Loud olus shouted,

And Momus flouted, yet followed the hare.