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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,
Odsbods! we'll guttle rarely!'
So faith I'm much mistaken
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 will prove us monstrous wise
To sell the Flitch of Bacon.
Now each pers'sting, tit for tat,
on their respective cases, 1 hev fon bit at last like dog and cat,
And scratch'd each other's faces. Tis those who try to gut their fish
beforeitis sately taken, Like Dkk und Nell, oft spoil their dishe
who lost the Fitch of Bacon.
POOR DICK MEADOWS. POOR Dick Meadows, young and bloominga
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;
Death untimely was his lot.
Cliffs that bound the craggy shore,
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,
To Phæbus the genius Was sent by dame Venus, a song to prepare,
In phrase nicely coin'd,
And verse quite refin'd,
Stars quite tir'd with pastimes Olympical,
Stars and Planets which beautifully shone, Could no longer endure that men only shall Swin in pleasure, and they but look on;
Round about horned
Lucina they swarmed,
Each God and Goddess,
To take human bodies,
While pale Proserpina sat in her place,
By her example, • Their father to trample, The earth old and ample, they soon leave the air;
Neptune the water,
And wine Liber Pater,
Borrow'd of the Muses with kisses and pray'rs;
Postillion of the sky,
While tuneful Apollo
Rous'd Echo, new manhood did tule;
There was club-fcoicd . Mulciber bocted, And Pas promoted on Corydon's mare;
Prund Pallas pouted,
Loud folus shuntert,
Hymen ustvers the Lady Astræa,
The jest took hold of Latona the cold; Ceres the brown, with bright Cytherea ; . Thetis the wanton, Bellona the bold;
With witty Pandora
But Juno was stated i
Too high to be mated,
The Troy-born boy presents on his knee;
I piped and mused,
Till the house of Jove
Like the spheres did move:
ADOWN, ADOWN, ADOWN in the VALLEY. DID you ne'er hear a tale, how a youth in a Vale
Ask'd a Damsel to grant him a kiss ; How the silly maid reply'd, No! it must be deny’d,
But all the while wish'd to say yes. Yet when on her pillow, she sigh'd for the willow, Where Edward first saw pretty Sally; But rather in truth, she sigh'd for the youth
All adown, adown, adown in the Valley. Have you ne'er heard it said, when he ask'd her
to wed, And told her true love prompted so, How the silly maid spoke, to be sure 'twas in joke, . For she answer'd him."Shepherd no, no!
Yet when on her &c,
But ah, now you shall find, lrow this maid changed
her mind Whep a twelvemonth had pass'd after this; For when he next press'd at the Church to be
bless'd, She answer'd him “Shepherd, yes, yes!" No more on her pillow, she sigh'd for the willow,
Where Edward first saw pretty Sally; ..., But bless'd the fond day, they to Church flew away,
All adown, adown, adown in the Valley.
THE EXILE OF ERIN. THERE came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,
The dew on his robe it was heavy and chill, For his country he sigh’d, when at twilight repaire
ing, To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill; But the day-star attracted his eye's sad devotion, For it rose on his own native isle of the ocean, Where once in the flow of his youthful emotion,
He sung the bold anthem of Erin go Braghi "O, sad is my fate," said the heart broken stran.
" The wild deer and wolf to a covert can flee, But I have no refuge from faminę and danger;
A home and a country remain not for me! Ah, never again in the green shady bowers, Where my forefathers liv'd shail I spend the sweet
hours, Or cover my harp with the wild-woven flowers,
And strike the sweet numbers of Erin go Bragh. « Oh, Erin,, my country, tho' sad and forsaken,
In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore; Dut, alas, in a far foreign land I awaken, And sigh for the friends who can meet me ne