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industry--were rewarded ---but now bribery and corruption choak up the seeds of merit-but 'tis

High down, &c.
At fast to end the play,
Second childhood leads the way;
And like sheep that's got the rot,
All our senses go to pot.
So death among us pops,
And down the curtain drops.

All to fill, &c.
Corps in ground,
Glass goes round,
Vicar and Moses,

Toast their Noses.
High down, ho down, derry derry down,
All to fill up this farsical scene 0!

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ALDERMAN GOBBLE.

Tune- Heighol says Rowley.'
TOM GOBBLE was a grocery so

Heigho! says Gobble;
He gave a ven’son dinner for fun,
And he had a belly as big as a tun,
With his handy dandy, bacon and gravy,

Ah! ah! says Alderman Gobble.
The servant usher'd the company in,

Heigho! says Gobble,
The dinner is ready, quoth Tom, with a grin,
So he tuck'd a napkin under his chin,
With his handy dandy, bacon and gravy,

Ahl ah! says Alderman Gobble.
Then Betty the cook, she gave a squall,

Heigho 1 says Gobble,
Poor John the footman has had a fall,
And down stairs tumbl'd yen'son and all,

With his handy dandy, bacon and gravy,

Alas! says Alderman Gobble.
So down the Alderman ran in a'fright,

Heigho! says Gobble,
And there sat John in a terrible plight,
Astride on the ven'son, bolt upright,
With his handy dandy, bacon and gravy,

Dear me! says Alderman Gobble.
Was ever man so cruelly put on,

Heigho! says Gobble; Get off from the meat you rascally glutton, You've made my ven’son a saddle of mutton, With your randy dandy, bacon and gravy,

Good lack! says Alderman Gobble.

Lord, Sir, says Betty, what a splash,

Heigho! says Gobble,
'Tis a monstrous bad rumbusticle crash,
But to-morrow Ill tickle it up in a hash,
With my handy dandy, bacon and gravy,

Ay, do! says Alderman Gobble.

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MON AT MESTER GRUNDY'S.

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lives,

THE NANCY. MAYHAP you have heard, how that, dear as their All true-hearted tarş love their ships and their

wives; To their duty, like pitch, sticking close till they

die, And whoe'er wants to know it, I'll tell 'em for

why; One, through dangers and storms, brings me safe.

ly ashore, T'other welcomes me home, when each danger is

o'er; Both smoothing the ups and the downs of this life: For my ship's call'd the Nancy, and Nancy's my

wife. When Nancy, my wife, o’er the lawn scuds so

neat, And so light, the proud grass scarcely yields to her

feet; So rigg'd out and so lovely 'tan't easy to trace Which is reddest her top-knot, her shoes, or her

face : While the neighbours, to see her, forget all their

cares, And are pleas'd she is mine, though they wish she

. was theirs, Marvel not then to think of this joy of my life; I my ship calls the Nancy, for Nancy's my wife.

As for Nancy, my vessel,---but see her in trim, She seems through the ocean to fly, and not swim; 'Fore the wind, like a dolphin, she merrily plays, She goes any how well, but she looks best in stays. Scudding, trying, or tacking, 'tis all one to she; Mounting high, or low sunk in the trough of the

sea; She has sav'd me from many hard squeaks for my

life, So I call'd her the Nancy, for Nancy's my wife,

When so sweet in the dance careless glides my

heart's queen, She sets out and sets in, far the best on the green; So of all the grand fleet my gay vessel's the flow'r, She outsails the whole tote by a knot in an hour, Then they both sail so cheerful through life's vary

ing breeze, All hearts with such pilots must be at their ease; Thus I've two kind protectors to watch me thro?

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My good ship the Nancy, and Nancy my wife. Then these hands from protecting them who

shall debar Ne'er ingratitude lark'd in the heart of a tar; Why ev'ry thing female from peril to save Is the noblest distinction that honours the brave. While a rag, or a timber, or compass I boast, I'll protect the dear creatures against a whole host; Still grateful to both to the end of my life, My good ship, the Nancy, and Nancy my wife.

* * * * * * * * *

LET FAME SOUND THE TRUMPET.

LET Fame sound the trumpet, and cry, to the war!

Let glory re-echo the strain;
The fuil tide of honour may flow from the scar,

And heroes may smile on their pain,
The treasures of autumn let Bacchus display,

And stagger about with his bowl;
On science let Sol beam the lustre of day,

day,
And wisdom give light to the soul.
Let India unfold her rich gems to the view,

Each virtue, each joy to improve;
O give me the friend that I know to be true,

And the fair that I tenderly love!
What's glory but pride? a vain bubble is famej

And riot the pleasure of wine:
What's riches but trouble? and title's a name ::

But friendship and love are divine.

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