When rosy wine begins to flow,
The goblin, Care, takes flight;
Just as the fiend, and night,
Depart at morn's celestial glow.

Wine o'er the soul, &c.

There's magic lodg'd within the grape :

It makes the lover view

His mistress' beauty new,

Gives lustre to her eye, her air, her shape.

Wine o'er the soul, &c.

TOM MOODY,

You all knew Tom Moody, the whipper-in, well;
The bell just done tolling was honest Tom's knell,
A more able sportsman ne'er followed a hound
Through a country well known to him fifty miles
round.

No hound ever open'd, with Tom near the wood,
But he'd challenge the tone, and could tell if it 'twere
good;

And all with attention would eagerly mark,

6

When he cheer'd up the pack, Hark! to Rockwood, hark! hark!

High-wind him! and cross him!
Now, Ratler, boy!--Hark !'

Six crafty earth-stoppers, in hunter's green drest,
Supported poor Tom to an earth' made for rest:
His horse, which he styled his 'Old Soul,' next ap-
pear'd,

On whose forehead the brush of his last fox was rear'd;
Whip, cap, boots, and spurs, in a trophy were bound,
And here and there follow'd an old straggling hound.
Ah! no more at his voice yonder vales will they trace !
Nor the Welkin resound his burst in the chase!
With high over!-Now press him!
Tally ho-Tally ho!

his breath:

Thus Tom spoke his friends, ere he gave up
'Since I see you are resolv'd to be in at the death,
One favour bestow-'tis the last I shall crave,
Give a rattling view-halloo thrice over my grave;
And unless at that warning I lift up my head,
My boys, you may fairly conclude I am dead!
Honest Tom was obey'd, and the shout rent the sky,
For ev'ry voice join'd in the tally ho! cry.
"Tally he! Hark forward!
Tally ho! Tally ho!'

FLY CARE TO THE WINDS.

FLY Care to the winds, thus I blow thee away;
I'll drown thee in wine if thou dar'st for to stay:
With bumpers of claret my spirits I'll raise,
I'll laugh and I'll sing all the rest of my days.

God Bacchus this moment adopts me his son,
And inspir'd, my breast glows with transports un-
known;

The sparkling liquor new vigour supplies,

And makes the nymph kind who before was too wise.

Then, dull sober mortals, be happy as me ;
Two bottles of claret. will make us agree;
Will open your eyes to see Phillis' charms,

And her coyness wash'd down, she'll fly to your arms.

THE HEARTY OLD ODD FELLOW.

WHILE with wealth on one hand and content on the other,

I enjoy a companion and friend,

That leave me no cares, nor vexations to smother,
Which oft on poor mortals attend;

And, while I reflect, that, with doctor and drug,

But few have through life brush'd so well, O!

I give thanks, that with time, I've so long stood the tug,

Still a hearty and sound old Odd Fellow.

The blessings of youth I enjoy'd while I held 'em,
Though life's but a short fleeting day,

And mortals are pleas'd with evening but seldom,
Yet I'll welcome its last parting ray;

And though time, on my face its deep furrows may plough,

And the bloom on my cheek may turn yellow, Discontent he never shall see perch'd on the brow Of a hearty old honest Odd Fellow.

We know that fine words may be founded on fiction,
And with friends 'tis too often the case;

Yet, if ever I meet an old friend in affliction,
May I never put on a new face ;

Nor a stranger distrest pass unfeelingly by,
While his tale to the winds he may tell, O!

But brush off if I can the big tear from his eye,

Like a hearty old honest Odd Fellow.

And while thus through life I brush on strange and

oddly,

When the book of my failings I scan,

Tis my wish, by reform, ere I under the sod lie,
To brush them all off if I can :

And when the green grass shall like thatch overspread
The low roof, where at last I must dwell, O!

May each friend, left behind, till he spins his last thread,

Prove a hearty old honest Odd Fellow!

IT IS NOT FOR THINE EYE OF BLUE

IT is not for thine eye

of blue,

Nor for thy dark and glossy hair,
Nor for thy cheek of rosy hue,

Nor for thy lovely bosom fair
That I do love thee; for to me,
There are far brighter charms in thee!

But it is for thy gentle mind,

Thy placid and expansive brow,
Imagination, mild and kind,

Which burns with clear, and fervid glow,
That I do love thee; and I see,

A thousand matchless charms in thee!

THE CANADIAN BOAT SONG.

FAINTLY as tolls the ev'ning chime,
Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time;
Soon as the woods on shore look dim,
We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn.

Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast,
The rapids are near, and the day-light's past

Why should we yet our sail unfurl?

There is not a breath the blue wave to curl;
But when the wind blows off the shore,
Oh! sweetly we'll rest our weary oar.

Blow, breezes, blow, &c.

Utawa tide! this trembling moon,
Shall see us float over thy surges soon;
Saint of this green isle! hear our prayer,
Grant us cool heavens and favouring air!

Blow, breezes, blow, &c.

PEACE BE TO THOSE WHO NOBLY BLEED.

PEACE be to those who nobly bleed,

In freedom and their country's cause,
Defending in the hour of need

Their charter'd liberties and laws.
Loud swell the dirge, the anthem swell,
Sweet vivid wreathes let maids entwine,

That may to future ages tell

Their lives heroic, and their fall divine.
Their lives, &c.

THE LADY OF KIENAST TOWER.

IT is the lady of Kienast Tower, of love she will not hear;

And she sits alone in her mountain-bower, though woo'd by prince and peer;

For she hath made a vow in her pride, her husband none to call,

Save he who shall round her castle ride, on the edge of its outer wall!

O! the castle-wall is narrow, and the castle-wall is high;

And the brain would reel were you but to stand and gaze on the gulf a-nigh!

And the bones of many a rider bold lie whit'ning down in the dell,

While that lady proud sits in her hall, and laughs as all were well.

It is Sir Albert, of Thuringy, who kneels to the mai

den now;

She has looked but once on his dark blue eye, and she rues her cruel vow;