Behold him in the dreadful scene, In honour's deathless page enroll'd, Whose bosom nobly pants for fame. The choicest smiles, their favours sweet, When crown'd with laurels from the foe, They lay their wreaths at beauty's feet. C No doubt a song you've heard, It comprises, in a word, The luck of a cove wot writes! (My mind to truth it clings :) Tol de rol, &c. In a garret I show'd my nob, In Earl-Street, Seven Dials, My father was a snob. My mother dealt in wials; I hated low-life things! Made friends with a cove wot writes, And now I'm a chap wot sings. Tol de rol, &c. When at singing I made a start, But turned to the comic line; Tol de rol, &c. To a concert, ball, or rout. If I go to take a room, Tol de rol, &c. There needs no talk or stuff; She's proud to have in her house, A gentleman wot sings. Tol de rol, &c. Each day so well I fare, To hear the chap wot sings. Tol de rol, &c. While strolling t'other night, I dropped in at a house, d'ye see, Insisted on treating me; SPOKEN.]"How much to pay, landlord," said I "Nothing of the sort," Says he, "you're a cove wot sings." Now my song is at an end, Tol de rol, &c. My story through I've run; Was to cause a morsel of fun ; If I succeed, that's right, There's a pleasure pleasing brings; And I'll try some other night, The luck of a chap wot sings. Tol de rol, &c. LOVE'S RITORNELLA. GENTLE Zitella, whither away? Lonely Zitella hath too much fear; And those bright eyes if the brigand should see, Gentle Zitella, banish thy fear; Love's ritornella, tarry and hear. Simple Zitella, beware, ah, beware! RETURN, O MY LOVE. RETURN, O my love! and we'll never part, And no one but thou of its sweetness shall sip, Then return, &c. FOUR FEET HIGH. WHAT a misery it is to be just four feet high, Oh, hapless misfortune-I feel it—that I, My school I went through, and some years passed away, And although I looked but a boy; With other lads taller I scorn'd to play, For I thought myself hobble-de-hoy. Fate cut my prospects, and sternly decreed- Did reach four-and-twenty years old, and indeed, Before I was four feet high. Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh, hapless misfortune-I sob and I sigh, I then fell in love, and a courting I went, Who was just six feet tall, but she would not consent, And all my hope turn'd to despair. Too short to be married-I sob and I sigh, I made up my mind for a soldier to go, But corporal, sergeant, and all-nine or ten- And told me they only took good siz❜d men, Too short to be shot at-I sob and I sigh, As I walk through the streets I feel some alarm To see every tall person come; Whose looks plainly say, You wee little hop o' "Come under my arm, my thumb." And each gawkey boy, my walk who comes near, Seems but to act by one plan; For all of them cry, "Companions, look here, |