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VICTORY AND JOY.
WHEN the sun bright ascending illumines the sky,
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HEYNONNI WHAT SHALL I DO. SO careless I sat in my grandmother's bower,
Singing heynonni no to my gay tambourine, When you asked for shelter awhile from a shower,
With heynonni no, sir, says I, what d'ye mean? Then so softly you vow'd, and you swore to be true, I'm asham'd to have heard you, but more sham'd
But silent I carried my gay tambourine ;
And play to kind mortals who soften my woey, Heynonni, hononni, heynonni, oh !
THE WIDOW IN LOVE.
The love your looks convey'd :
And thus my thoughts betray'd.
How happy was the scene !
Had sure enamour'd been.
" Old time could scarce keep pace;
" Lost in the mazy race.
MASTER ROONEY OF BALLINAFAD'S
TRAVELS AND VOYAGE. IN Ireland so frisky, with sweet girls and whisky,
We manag'd to keep care and sorrow aloof, Our whirligig revels made all the blue devils Creep out with the smoke through a hole in the
roof. But well I remember, one foggy November,
My mother cried, Go make your fortune, my lad, Go bother the ninnies clean out of their quineas.
Away then I scamper'd from Ballinafad. Then to seek for promotion, I walk'd the wide
ocean, Was shipwreck'd and murder'd, and sold for a
slave, Over mountains and rivers was pelted to shivers,
And met on this land with a wat’ry grave..
But now Mr. Jew-man has made me a new man,
And whisky and Mammora make my heart glad, To sweet flowing Liffey, I'm off in a jiffey,
With a whack for Old Ireland and Ballinafad. From this cursed station, to that blessed nation,
Again Master Rooney shall visit your shore, Where, O flourish so gaily, my sprig of shillelagh
Long life to old Nadab of great Mogadore. O then all my cousins will run out by dozens,
And out too will hobble old mammy and dad, At dinner they'll treat us with mealy potatoes,
And whisky distill'd at sweet Ballinafad.
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THE JEW OF MOGADORE, OR THE RIGHT
USE OF MONEY.
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THE HUMOURS OF MANCHESTER RACES,
Since last I trod upon this ground, I've travers'd
Sea and Lands, But now I am, bad money like, return'd upon your
Hands; I've beat my brains, for little gains, thro' North,
South, East and West, And found at last, Home all surpass’d, believe me
'tis no jest... Spoken.) Jest, no! 'tis a very serious matter to be
running up and down the world like a Will o' the Wisp, here a little and there a little, always in the wrong place, and for my part I've grown as small as pin wire, dang it, thinks I, there's better doings than this at Manchester Races, pretry Pickings, ordinary
dinners--They'll eat and they'll drink at a pretty pace, Bridgwater, Bull's Head, i'th' Market-place, White Horse and Spread Eagle, Hanging-ditch, Landlords are all growing very rich;
Then to Manchester Races we'll go What fiddling, fighting, bull-baiting, i've seen at
Eccles Wakes, But no such pretty sport you'll find through all
the land of Cakes; The' Bagpipes play, they dance away, the Lads
and Lasses rosy, And when all's done, there's better fun, at
Pendleton Pow Posey. Spoken. / Ah! Man do ye ken the New Toon at
Edinbro' and the College of Physicians? aye mun, says I, but look at the Town of Manchester, and the College in the Old Church Yard! then for Physicians, havn't we the Whitworth Doctors ! then for your fine Streets There's Church Street, High Street, Rook Street, Pall Mall, Piccadilly and Duke Street,
Hanging-ditch, Hyde's Cross and Burner Street, Garret Lane, Toad Lane, and Turner Street,
Then to Manchester Races we'll go. 'Tis said that Learning may be had by whole
sale in the North, And Wisdom there is cheaper far than England
can bring forth ; For there's preaching cheap, and teaching cheap,
and Poets of great fame, They'll: threap me down, in our town, there's
none can do the same. (Spoken.) Yes but we can tho', we can work all
this by Steam ; and more than that, we can rock the Cradle, roast Beef, and scrape Po
tatoes by Steam, and by and by, I dare say-Parsons will preach by a Steam Engine, Doctors will bleed by a Steam Engine, . Soldiers will shoot by a Steam Engine, Kill Bonaparte by a Steam Engine,
Then to Manchester Races we'll go. Such crowds of. Folks together met, sure ne'er
were seen before, From all the Country round about, to the Races
on Kersey Moor; . From Oldham, Rochdale, Bolton too, as throng
as Smithy-door, From Chorley, and Chewbent a few, likewise
from Cockey-moor. (s ohen.) Barrel Cyder, barrei Cyder, fourpence
a quart, twopence a pint, and a penny the half pint !- Boul up, bowl up, civil Will, all's in the Well, hit your Legs and miss my Pegs!-- Whirl about, round about Kitty Fisher, liackney Coaches, a halfpenny a Ride! - Valk in, Valk in, Ladies and Gentlemen, see the Old Lion from Bengal; the African Tiger, and the Vild Man of the Vood! Shew him up, shew him up, mine's the best Shew, none of your vild Beas:esses! for here's Ir. Punch and his merry Companions, Jane