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O, COME TO ME WHEN DAY-LIGHT SETS

O COME to me when day-light sets,

Sweet, then come to me,
When smoothly go our gondolets,

O'er the moonlight sea,
When mirth's awake and love begins

Beneath the glancing ray,
With sounds of lute and mandolins

To steal young hearts away.
O then's the hour for those that love,

Sweet! like thee and me;
When all is calm below, above,

In heaven and o'er the sea.
When maidens sing sweet barcarolles,

And echo sings again,
So sweet, those all with ears and souls
Should love and listen then.

So come, &c.

WHEN I DRAIN THE BOWL,

WHEN I drain the rosy bowl,
Joy exhilarates the soul ;
To the Nine I raise my song
Ever fair and ever young.
When full cups my cares expel,
Sober counsel then farewell.
Let the winds that murmur, sweep
All my sorrows to the deep.

Let the winds, &cm
When I drink dull time away,
Jolly Bacchus, ever gay,
Leads me to delightful bow'rs,
Full of fragrance, full of flow'rs.

When I quaff the sparkling wine,
And my locks with roses twine ;
Then I praise life's rural scene,
Sweet, sequester'd, and serene.

Then I praise, &c.
When I drink the bowl profound,
(Richest fragrance flowing round)
Ànd some lovely nymph detain,
Venus then inspires the strain.
When from goblets deep and wide,
I exhaust the gen'rous tide,
All
my

soul unbends—I play Gamesome with the young and gay.

All my soul, &c.

THE CHARITY BOY.

No doubt you wonders who I is,
And at my figger you may quiz ;
At once your doubts then to destroy,
I'm Bobby Miles the charity boy.
Tho' some folks says as I'm a fool,
I'm a teacher in the charity school;
And 'cause I am six feet to view,
I'm reckoned the head scholar too.

Oh! vot a pleasure larning is,
For tho' the folks may jeer and quiz,
I'm mammy's pet and daddy's joy.

So, vot d'ye think of the charity boy ?
My talent I did quickly show,
At twelve years old, vy, you must know,
Pot-hooks and hangers I wrote free,
'Asides I knowed my A, B, C.
My rising genius not to pass,
They promoted me to the fust class ;

And yhen master my school-fellows did yhack, I'd the onner to take 'em on my back.

Oh! vot, &c. To be quite punctual is my rule, I alyus is the fast in school. To encourage me, my mother drops The browns, to buy me lollipops ; Then as to school my vay I drags, On hard-bake I blows out my bags. Stale tarts and buns too, it is plain, And a spanking piece of allecampane.

Oh! vot, &c. I'm so accomplished you must see, At miveys none can play like me ; At buttons too I comes it stout, I beats my playmates out and out. My larning, too, no one denies, As this here proof vill quite suffice, You hear as I can spell quite pat, C, A, T, dog, and D, 0, G, cat.

Oh! vot, &c. Vun arternoon I play'd the vag, And to the fields my way did dragTo get cock sorrel, the place I knew, And butter-cups and daisies too. Next day the master scolded me, And threatened that I horsed should be, But yhen he made the first attack, Vy, I vollop'd master like a sack.

Oh! vot, &c. On boxing day my joys increase, For yhen I shows my Christmas piece, I gets sich lots o' money then, 'Cause so vell can use my pen. And yhen ve has our breaking up, Oh crickeys! don't I eat and sup ;

To cut avay 'tis then the time,
O, jigger me tight! it is so prime.

Oh! vot, &c.
So thus you see how blest I are,
In larning I bangs Byron far,
Vith a mind content vhere'er I goes,
And dress'd in these here handsome clo'es!
I ever bless the fate I'm sure
Vhich made me humble-made me poor,
For oh, you can't conceive the joy,
It is to be a charity boy.

“Humpty dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty dumpty had a great fall;
I'm mammy's pet and daddy's joy,
So, vot d'ye think of the charity boy?

BELLS UPON THE WIND.

That heavenly voice, that heavenly voice,

When every joy has fled,
In accents soothing brings relief,

When all, save hope, is dead.
Those melting sounds, those melting sounds,

Alone can calm the mind,
Like dying sunbeams gild the scene,
Or bells upon the wind.

Bells upon, &c. Those mellow tones, those mellow tones,

The soul desponding cheer, · Reviving joys the bosom fill,

Fresh budding hopes appear,
The drooping heart, the drooping heart,

In friendship’s voice shall find
A balm, whose cheering accents thrill
Like bells upon the wind.

Bells upon, &c.

THE ROSE-BUD OF SUMMER.

WHEN the rose-bud of summer its beauties bestowing,

On winter's rude blasts all its sweetness shall pour, And the sunshine of day in night's darkness be

glowing. Oh, then, dearest Ellen, I'll love you no more.,

When of hope the last spark, which thy smile loves

to cherish, In my bosom shall die, and its splendour be o'er, And the pulse of that heart which adores you shall ·

perish, Oh, then, dearest Ellen, I'll love you no more.

I NEVER SAYS NOTHING TO NOBODY.

What a shocking world this is for scandal!
The people get

worse every day,
Every thing serves for a handle

To take folk's good name away.
In backbiting vile, each so labours,

The sad faults of others to show body;
I could tell enough of my neighbours,

But I never says nothing to nobody.

'Tis a snug little house I reside in,

And the people who're living next door,
Are smother'd completely, such pride in

As I never met with before.
But outside of doors they don't roam,

A large sum of money they owe body,
Folk call but can't find them at home,

I never says nothing to nobody.

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