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And I who wait,

On this cold, cold slate,
While you're at the mouse-hole peeping, love!
Then, awake, till rise of sun, my dear,
And we'll have the devil's own fun, my dear;

For if you look shy,

Faith it's all in my eye,
Fočaway with another I'll run, my dear.



TUNE,- Humours o’Glen.' DEAR Doctor be clever, and fling off your beaves

Come, bleed me, and blister me, do not be slow, I'm sick, I'm exhausted, my schemes they are blasted,

And all driven heels-o'er-head, Doctor Monroe.' • Be patient, dear fellow, you foster your fever;

Pray, what's the misfortune that bothers you so!' 60, doctor! I'm ruined! I'm ruined for ever!

My lass has forsaken me, Doctor Monroe.'
I meant to have married, and tasted the pleasures,

The sweets, the enjoyments, in wedlock that flow; But she's ta’en another, and broken my measures,

And fairly confounded me Doctor Monroe.'
• I'll bleed, and I'll blister you, over and over;

I'll master your malady ere that I go;
But raise up your head from below the bed-cover.

And give some attention to Doctor Monroe.' • If Christy had wed you, she would have misled you, And laughed at your love with some handsome young

beau; Her conduct will prove it; but how would you love it?'

I soon would have lamed her, dear Doctor Mon



• Each year brings a pretty young son or a daughter;

Perhaps you're the father, but how shall we know? You hug them-her gallant is bursting with laughter'

• That thought's like to murder me, Doctor Monroe.' • The boys cost you many a penny and shilling;

You breed them with pleasure, with trouble and wo; But one turns a rake, and another a villain,'

My heart could not bear it, dear Doctor Monroe.' The lasses are comely, and dear to your bosom;

But virtue and beauty has many a foe! 0, think what may happen; just nipt in their blossom!'

• Ah, merciful Heaven! cease, Doctor Monroe.' • Dear Doctor, I'll thank you to hand me my breeches;

I'm better, I'll drink with you, ere that you go; I'll never more sicken for women or riches,

But love my relations and Doctor Monroe. I plainly perceive were I wedded to Christy,

My peace and my pleasures, I needs must fore-go.' He still lives a bachelor; drinks when he's thirsty;

And sings like a lark, and loves Doctor Monroe.

TUNE,— There's no luck about the house.'
Young Ben he was a nice young man,

A carpenter by trade,
And he fell'& in love with Sally Brown,

That was a lady's maid.
But as they fetched a walk one day,

They met a pressgang crew,
And Sally she did faint away,
Whilst Ben he was brought-to.

Too ral, &c.
The boatswain swore most wicked words,

Enough to shock a saint,
That though she did seem in a fit

'Twas nothing but a feint.

Come, girl, says he, hold up your head,

He'll be as good as me,
For when your swain is in the boat,
A boatswain he will be.

Too ral, &c. So when they'd made their game of her,

And taken off her elf,
She roused and only found she was

A coming to herself.
And is he gone, and is he gone?

She cried and wept outright;
Then I will to the water-side
And see him out of sight.

Too ral, &c. A waterman came up to her,

Now young woman, said he,
If you weep on so you will make

Eye-water in the sea.
Alas they've taken my beau Ben

To sail with old Benbow;
And her woe began to run afresh,
As if she said gee-woh.

Too ral, &c. Says he, they've only taken him

To the tender-ship, you see,
The tender ship, cried Sally Brown,

What a hardship that must be.
Oh, would I were a mermaid now,

For then I'd follow him,
But oh! I'm not a fish-woman,
And so I cannot swim.

Too ral, &c. Alas, I was not born beneath

The virgin and the scales, So I must curse my cruel stars,

And valk about in Wales.

Now Ben had sailed to many a place

That's underneath the world,
But in two years the ship came home,
And all the sails were furled.

Too ral, &c But when he called on Sally Brown,

To see how she went on,
He found she'd got another Ben,

Whose Christian name was John.
Oh, Sally Brown, oh, Sally Brown,

How could you serve me so?
I've met with many a breeze before,
But never such a blow.

Too ral, &c.

Then pondering o'er his bacco-box,

He heaved a heavy sigh
And then began to eye his pipe,

And then to pipe his eye.
And then he tried to sing, “ All's well,”

But couldn't though he tried,
His head was turned, and so he chewed
His pigtail till he died.

Too ral, &c. His death which happened in his berth,

At forty odd befell;
They went and told the sexton,

And the sexton tolled the bell.
Now Sal his funeral did attend

With fearful anxious look,
She waited in the cold church-yard
Till the parson shut his book.

Too ral, &c. WILLIAM AND JONATHAN. WILLIAM and Jonathan came to town together, William brought learning, and Jonathan some leather; Said William to Jonathan, what d’ye mean to do? Said Jonathan to William, I can sole a shoe, With my leather, lap-stone, hammer, nippers, peg

ging-awl, and bristles. Said Jonathan to William, pray, what is your intention? William talk'd of things far above his comprehension, He meant to write poetry, pamphlets, songs, and plays, Epitaphs, epigrams, and puffs, the wind to raise, With his Latin, Greek, grammar, syntax, prosody,

and logic. It chanced that they lodged in the same house together, Will stuck close to books, and Jonathan to leather; While Johnny in the cellar as any hog grew fat, Poor Will in the garret was a's thin as a starved cat. With their leather, Latin, hammer, grammar, peg

ging-awl and logic. When they had lived in town, for years nearly twenty; Will was very poor, but Jonathan had plenty; When meeting one day, they compar'd notes together, And clearly proved that learning wasn't half so good

as leather. Sing, leather, lap-stone, hammer, nippers, pegging

awl, and bristles.


Said a fox to a goose,

(From a farm-house let loose,) And chanced to be pluming a feather,

“Dear goose, how d’ye do?

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