"The transports that charm'd us, whilst deaf to "the roar "Of the bagpipe's loud clamorous scream; Betimes the next morning to Gretna they flew, TOWN AMUSEMENT. WHILE the day-star of Europe extinguish'd should seem, And England alone can defy Buonaparte, By speeches and mutual reproaches made hot, I've no time for such things, I'm a visiting man, One made for sweet cakes, lemonade, and orgeat. Spoken. Were you at my Lady Double-drum's last night? What a delightful thing it was! Three hundred people more than the rooms would hold.Miss Dumpling, poor dear little thing, was nearly trod. den to death. Lord Fig pick'd up her invisible: what, would the coroner have brought it in, had she been extinguish'd? How shock'd I should have been. Ah! Sir Harry, how do?-what a love of a waistcoat you've got! Dear Miss, don't push so... Sung....Well, now that's hearty, well now that's hearty, Then O for the toil and the squeeze of a party. Then after contending two hours in the street, Lamps, ladies, lords, constables mix'd in the fight. With your glasses all broke, and your coachman well beat, At length up you come to the scene of delight: Then up the steep steps, while with pain you are crawling, Where you and the staircase so little agree, Lord Spindle, Lord Spindle, the servants are bawling And souse on your head comes a hot dish of tea. Spoken....My dear Lord, a thousand pardons. Any thing from you, my sweet miss. Oh! heavens, what a squeeze this is! I shall expire; dear Sir Harry, how you crowd one. 'Pon honor, its not my fault, Miss Tittup, if I incommode the muslins; touching scenes for a man of sensibility, tho! Oh, that I could get out, cries Lady Bab. Oh! that I could get in, cries Captain Crop, well push'd Lady Rigadoon there she goes.. Sung...Well, now that's hearty, well now that's hearty, Then O! for the toil, and the squeeze of a party. LADY GO-NIMBLE'S GHOST; or, HONEY SIR JERRY GO-NIMBLE was lame of a leg, And Lady Go-Nimble had barely one peg, Sir Jerry when married was but twenty-two, With a hey diddle, ho diddle, hey diddle dee, At the wedding, my Lady was call'd for a song, Hey diddle, ho diddle dee! Says she, to oblige, I'll not hesitate long, Tho' I own I'm not quite in the key;' Then she made a fine mug 'twixt a squint and a grin, And screw'd up her snuff-colour'd lips to begin, While like two bellows handles she mov'd nose and chin. (Spoken.)...When she sung.... (Sings.) What's life without passion, sweet passion of love. With a hey diddle, ho diddle, hey diddle dee, These pair of true lovers they liv'd upon love, While the honey-moon lasted a week and above, Then for jealousy drank herself out of her wits. (Sings.). He prov'd false and I undone. With a hey diddle, ho diddle, hey diddle dee, At last of this sad hydrofogy she dy'd— Hey diddle, ho diddle dee, And her grim ghost it came to Sir Jerry's bed-side, Saying, List! oh, list!-for I'm come for thee.' Sir Jerry he hid himself under the clothes, But the ghost out of bed pull'd him soon by the nose, Toss'd him out of the window, and cried, There he goes!' (Spoken.) And away he went sure enough, With his hey diddle, ho diddle, hey diddle dee, Sing hey diddle, ho diddle dee. TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS. The King!...Long may he live and reign, May we always get the whip-hand of our enemies. Our dear Companions, and our absent Friends. Success to Commerce. All we wish and all we want. A halter to them that deserve it. A generous heart and a miser's fortune. May the wealth of rogues devolve on honest mens Palsy to the hand of the assassin. Plenty to a generous mind. Riches without pride. Success to our hopes, and enjoyment to our wishes. Sense to win a heart, and merit to keep it. The tars of Old England. May poverty always be a day's march behind us. May genius and merit never want a friend. May the friends we love be sincere, and the country we live in be free. Increase of trade and reduction of taxes. May the clouds of war be soon dispersed by the sunshine of peace. Gratitude to friends, and generosity to enemies. INDEX. A Welsh Sermon At a Batchelor's Feast Tom Monk was presiding A Methodist Sermon A Sail on our lee-bow appears Page. * 17 A Man of Wales, betwixt St. David's day & Easter 31 32 39 71, 72, 73, 74, Alone to the banks of the dark rolling Danube A Jolly fat friar lov'd liquor good store A point was discuss'd Twixt a husband and wife As he that's unaw'd by the sound of a name A down a green valley there liv'd an old Maid - As Strephon and Anna one evening were roving Bright Phabus has mounted the chariot of Day Bowls and Rubbers; or, The Holiday Cobler |