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the servant to go up and intreat his master to be at home to him, as his business was of much consequence. The Duke with that urbanity which distinguishes him, on being informed a respectable looking old clergyman wished to speak to him, desired him to be introduced, and begged to know the occasion of his visit. "My lord," said the old gentleman, the rector of is dead, and I was advised by my parishioners to come to town, and intreat the friendship and protection of your lordship. I have served the parish many years, and hope I have acquitted myself with propriety.' ---" And pray, whom do you take me for, sir?" said the Duke interrupting him. "The BISHOP of LONDON, my lord." His Grace immediately rang the bell, and a servant entering---" John, who am I?”---" The Duke of NORFOLK, sir,”"Good God!" said the curate, starting from the chair, “I humbly intreat your Grace's pardon, and assure you that nothing but my ignorance of the town could have occasioned such a mistake."--"Stop, stop, my good friend! you and I don't part thus---we must first take a glass together, and then see whether I can't shew you the way to the BISHOP OF LONDON's house." His Grace and the Curate took t'other bottle, found their way to the Bishop's---and the old gentleman left St. James'sSquare 3401, a year richer than he entered it.

A PEEP AT THE FORTY THIEVES,

YOUR pardon, kind gentlefolk, pray,
But I'se call'd on to roar out a song, Sirs;
And when a man's call'd on, they say,

It's ill manners to make you wait long, Sirs;
So I'll e'en try my hand at a stave,

Tho' mayhap you may jeer me and out it,

But it's one of the best that I have,

And so now you shall hear all about it.

It isn't long sin I first com'd

Rum ti, &c,.

Fra' the north, and so you must needs think, Sirs, I'se a lad that's not easily humm'd,

Unless it be when I'se in drink, Sirs; And somehow, don't know which way, But the folk up in town be so droll, Sirs, That I must ha' been drunk every day,

For they humm'd me, by gum, one and all, Sirs.

I wur ganging one night by the play,
Never heeding about it a pin, Širs,
When I fairly were carried away

Rum ti, &c.

Off my legs, by the croud getting in, Sirs. I shouted as loud as I cou'd,

And I tell'd 'em I war'nt o' their party,

But a lady insisted I shou'd,

And said, "Push on, keep moving, my hearty.”

Rum ti, &c.

"Heave a head!" says a sailor, "you lubbard," No odds about my being willing,

So I com❜d to a man in a cupboard,
Who bade me lug out my two shilling;

And while I wur groping about,

My money to find I declare, Sirs,

My pockets I found inside out.

And the devil a penny was there, Sirs.

Rum ti, &c...

The croud which before had so push'd,
Thinks I, dang you, push on now or never,
For I didn't now mind being crush'd
And I got in for nothing quite clever.
The play wur soon ended, and then
Forty Thieves they com'd in all so funney
I suppose it were some of them men
As had diddled me out of my money.

Rum ti, &c..

So in town as I'd not long to stay,

I resolv'd to see all that I cou'd, Sirs,
And I went once again to the play,

Where I paid for a seat, tho' I stood, Sirs;
Common Garden, I think, was the spot,
And some beautiful posies they shew there,
And if oft to come here was my lot,

I as oft would be tempted to go there.

Rum ti, &c.

There wur one fellow walk'd on-to the stage,
Said he'd newly just com'd out o' Yorkshire;
By gum, he put me in a rage,

He made game so of our country talk, Sirs.
Folk call'd him a comical lad,

But for what, I declare, I can't tell, Sirs,

I never seed nothing so bad;

I'd ha' done it---eye, better myself, Sirs.

Rum ti, &c.

THE WOUNDED HUSSAR.

ALONE to the banks of the dark rolling Danube,
Fair Adelaid hy'd when the battle was o'er;
O whither, she cry'd, hast thou wander'd my lover,
Or here dost thou welter and bleed on the shore?
What voice did I hear! 'twas my Henry that sigh'd,
All mournful she hasten'd, nor wander'd afar,
When bleeding alone on the heath she descried,
By the light of the moon, her poor wounded
hussar.

From his bosom that heav'd, the last torrent was streaming,

And pale was his visage, deep mark'd with a scar, And dim was that eye, once expressively beaming,., That melted in love, and that kindled in war; How smit was poor Adelaid's heart at the sight! How bitter she wept o'er the victim of war!

"Hast thou come, my fond love, this last sorrow-ful night,

To cheer the lone heart of thy wounded hussar."

"Thou shalt live!" she reply'd, "heaven's mercy relieving,

Each anguishing wound shall forbid me to. mourn;"

"Ah! no the last pang in my bosom is heaving, No light of the morn shall to Henry return; Thou charmer of life, ever tender and true,

Ye babes of my love, that await me afar---”· His falt'ring tongue scarcely murmur'd adieu, When he sunk in her arms, the poor wounded hussar!

THE TAR WHO WAS WOUNDED AT SEA

I'M return'd from the ocean again, my brave boys,,
And the rage of the battle is o'er;

Yet Time, the dispencer of sorrows and joys,
No ease to my breast can restore.

For my limb was lopt off, ah! how dreadful the

smart!

And I wander by Fortune's decree;

Let love then subsist in each feeling heart,

For the tar who was wounded at sea.

When I parted with Sue, and for fame barter'di love,

My anguish no words can explain;

But the Valiant once boarded, I rous'd up, by Jove,,
And forgot all my trouble and pain.

I fought with the foe till my splinters were torn,
And they left me for dead, dire decree!

Altho' poor and helpless, still wanders forlorn,,
The tar who was wounded at sea.

With tender compassion regard his sad lot;
Who from duty and love would not swerve,,

But still hazard his life, tho' his name be forgot,;
His country and king to preserve.

Let the mite of sweet Pity be tenderly dealt,
And warm this old bosom with glee,

And gratitude ne'er will more strongly be felt,,
Than the tar's who was wounded at sea..

THE FARMER.

HERE's to each jolly fellow,

That loves to be mellow, Attend unto me and sit easy; For a bottle in quiet,

My boys, let us try it,

For dull thinking will make a man crazy;
Whilst here I am king,

Let us laugh, dance, and sing;

Let no mortal appear as a stranger;
But shew me the ass

That refuses his glass,

And I'll order him grass in á manger.

By reaping and mowing,

By ploughing and sowing,

Lal de lal, &s.

Dull nature supplies me with plenty;
I've a plentiful board,

And a cellar well stor'd,

And my garden supplies me with dainties;
I have land I have bowers,

I have fruits, I have flowers,

And I'm here as Justice of Quorum ;

In my cabin's far end

I've a bed for a friend,

With a clean fire-side and a jorum.

Was it not for my seeding

You would have poor feeding,

Lal de lal, &c.

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