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And I'm a pretty young girl,
And it's oh dear, &c, They say I'm beauteous and fair,
They say I'm scornful and proud;
And it's oh dear, &e. And now I must die an old maid;
Oh, dear, how shocking the thought !
And it's oh dear, &c.
The lawless Tyrant's threatening strain;
Her Nations bend to Slavery's chain :
Still Europe sees Imperial Crowns
Bow to the haughty Despot's sway : His fiat bleeding Austria owns,
O'er realms where rapine mark'd his way; While Britain's sons her rights maintain ; Her charter'd empire o'er the main !
While Britain's sons, &c. The fell Usurper's ruffian boast,
Invasion's threat! old Albion hears !
Her gallant sons defend her coast,
Her Britains all are volunteers ! Her native Heroes, brave as free, Defy their foes by land and seal
Her native Heroes, &c.
Still o'er the mighty world of waves
Britains all conquering Navy rides;
Triumphant o'er the foamy tides;
Her flag, &c.
Still may it awe old England's foe!
Still o'er her guardian fleets preside, And long as Ocean's billows How,
Thy genius, Pitt! her Senate guide! So shall her power and fame resound, Wide as the Earth's and Ocean's bound. *
So shall her power, &c.
Still George the British sceptre sways,
Victorious mid' the strife of war; While round his throne new glories blaze,
New glories won from Trafalgar
And o'er the world, &c.
Now shall united Britain sing
The strains each British heart reveres; Britannia's Cause--- her State.--her King;
Her Fleets---her Armies---Volunteers! Her cause, each patriot breast shall fire, Till earth, and seas, and suns expire.
Her cause, each patriot's breast, &t.
THE WISE IRISHMAN
And his Sallad Oil. ONE Patrick O'Blunder just caine from Kilkepny's Who e'er he reach'd England had spent his last
penny ; Was hir'd as a servant to one Sir James Trueland, (I believe no relation to Abraham Newland ;) Who the very next week set off post for town, With the whole of his family and his new Irish
clown; When to London they got, the good honest Knight, Thought a dinner would please them, altho''twas
near night, So the servants prepared a fine piece of roast beef, And those that were hungry had speedy relief; A Sallad was also a part of their cheer, Which the Knight said he'd dress, but no oil was
there, And the servants being busy, he says. to his many “ Here, Patrick, run off now as fast as you can, “ And the first shop you come to enquire for some
oil, • And make great haste back or the dinner will
spoil.” So full drive Pat set off, and soon knock'd down a
Quaker, The first shop he came to was kept by a baker ; « Sir, I want two quarts of your best eating oil, " And make haste, my dear honey, or the sallad
will spoil.” " Why man, cries the Baker, we sell it not here,” « Arrah, then, cries Pat, you can tell me my dear " Where it is to be got, I hope 'tis not far." « Oh! no, answered he, do you see yonder jar ? “ A jar! what's a jar pas then cries Pat with sur
prize, "Tis the brown thing on the post ;--why you've
surely no eyes." Off Pat, quickly sets, to the Oilman's he came, " Pray sir, I've been told Mr. Jar is your name."
" Jar! jar! cries the man, why you joking are
sure, " My name is not jar--there's a jar at the door; “ But what do you want--why you're quite in a
broil.” " An't please you, cries Patrick, I want some good
oil, " Oh, pray now make haste, or my Master will
caper." " But what will you put it in?"----" Why put it
in paper." « In paper! why man it's a liquid you see, " And thus to be carried it never can be.” “ Well then, crys O'Blunder, put it into my hat, " I will crush down the crown, what think you of
that? The Oilman the joke was unwilling to lose, So to do as Pat bid him he did not refuse; And pour'd in as much as the crown would contain, And yet some small share of the oil did remain. " Where is this to be put?"--Pat a cavity found, In the side of his hat, and soon turn'd it half round; Then pour'd the rest in, and set off in great haste, His hat under his arm, but made terrible waste; For the oil ran all down him, even into his shoes, Which did many passengers greatly amuse; When he came to the door, at the window there
stood, Sir James, who, through wrath, had a face red as
blood : “ You rascal, says he, what a pickle you're in ; " Who the deuce has bedaub'd you, and where
have you been ? " What's that in your hat?"..." The oil, sir, Pat,
cries, "Why there's not a quart here," the master replies; « Oh, no, but you see, sir, I've more on this side.” " I see none,” the master directly replied ; 57 'Tis here, sir,” cries Pat, and to end the disaster, He spilt all the oil that was left on his master ;
The ladies amus'd with this unlucky hit,
GL E E.
For 'Three Voices. I'LL live no more single, but get me a wife, For a change, says poor Dick, is the comfort of life : A wife he then got, and no mortal could be, A few weeks after marriage, more happy than he. But when children and squalling began to increase, And a loud scolding doxy molested his peace; I wish in my heart I was quit of my wife, For a change, says poor Dick, is the comfort oflife.
THE FLOWER OF AFFECTION,
THE lilies were blowing,
While Edward, all glowing With purest delight, to his Flora did say,
Tho' short-lived each flower
I plant round this bower,
Then Flora 'soft sighing,