Farewell to the land where in childhood I wander'd!
In vain is she mighty, in vain is she brave!
Unbless'd is the blood that for tyrants is squander'd,
And fame has no wreaths for the brow of the slave.
But hail to thee, Albion! who meet'st the commotion
Of Europe as calm as thy cliffs meet the foam!
With no bonds but the law, and no slave but the ocean,
Hail, Temple of Liberty! thou art my home.
WHEN Charles was deceived by the maid he loved,
We saw no cloud his brow o'ercasting,
But proudly he smiled, as if gay and unmoved,
Though the wound in his heart was deep and lasting.
And oft at night, when the tempest roll'd,
He sung as he paced the dark deck over
"Blow, wind, blow! thou art not so cold
As the heart of a maid that deceives her lover."
Yet he lived with the happy, and seem'd to be gay,
Though the wound but sunk more deep for concealing;
And fortune threw many a thorn in his way,
Which, true to one anguish, he trod without feeling! And still, by the frowning of fate unsubdued,
He sung, as if sorrow had placed him above her"Frown, fate, frown! thou art not so rude
As the heart of a maid that deceives her lover."
At length his career found a close in death,
The close he long wish'd to his cheerless roving,
For victory shone on his latest breath,
And he died in a cause of his heart's approving.
But still he remember'd his sorrow,-and still
He sung till the vision of life was over-
"Come, death, come! thou art not so chill
As the heart of a maid that deceives her lover."
WHEN life looks lone and dreary,
What light can expel the gloom?
When Time's swift wing grows weary,
What charm can refresh his plume?
'Tis woman, whose sweetness beameth
O'er all that we feel or see;
And if man of heaven e'er dreameth,
"Tis when he thinks purely of thee,
O woman!
Let conquerors fight for glory,
Too dearly the meed they gain;
Let patriots live in glory-
Too often they die in vain ;
Give kingdoms to those who choose 'em,
This world can offer to me
No throne like beauty's bosom,
No freedom like serving thee,
O woman!
MR Orator Puff had two tones in his voice,
The one squeaking thus, and the other down so!
In each sentence he utter'd he gave you your choice,
For one was B alt, and the rest G below.
Oh! oh! Orator Puff!
One voice for one orator's surely enough.
But he still talk'd away spite of coughs and of frowns,
So distracting all ears with his ups and his downs,
That a wag once, on hearing the orator say,
My voice is for war, ask'd him, Which of them, pray?
Oh! oh! &c.
Reeling homewards one evening, top-heavy with gin,
And rehearsing his speech on the weight of the crown,
He tripp'd near a sawpit, and tumbled right in,
Sinking Fund," the last words as his noddle came down
Oh! oh! &c.
"Help! help! he exclam'd," in his he and she tones, "Help me out! help me out-I have broken my bones! "Help you out?" said a Paddy who pass'd, "what a bother, Why, there's two of you there, can't you help one another?" Oh! oh! &c.
DEAR aunt, in the olden time of love,
When women like slaves were spurn'd,
A maid gave her heart, as she would her glove,
To be teazed by a fop, and return'd!
But women grow wiser as men improve,
And, though beaux, like monkeys, amuse us,
Oh! think not we'd give such a delicate gem
As the heart, to be play'd with or sullied by them;
No, dearest aunt, excuse us.
We may know by the head on Cupid's seal
What impression the heart will take;
If shallow the head, oh! soon we feel
What a poor impression 'twill make !
Though plagued, heaven knows! by the foolish zeal,
Of the fondling fop who pursues me,
Oh, think not I'd follow their desperate rule,
Who get rid of the folly, by wedding the fool;
No, dearest aunt! excuse us.
"TIS sweet to behold, when the billows are sleeping,
Some gay-colour'd bark moving gracefully by;
No damp on her deck but the even-tide's weeping,
No breath in her sails but the summer-wind's sigh.
Yet who would not turn with a fonder emotion,
To gaze on the life-boat, though rugged and worn,
Which often hath wafted o'er hills of the ocean,
The lost light of hope to the seaman forlorn!
Oh! grant that of those who in life's sunny slumber
Around us like summer-barks idly have play'd,
When storms are abroad we may find in the number
One friend, like the life-boat, to fly to our aid.
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