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AH SURE A PAIR WERE NEVER SEEN.
TUNE-" Highland Laddie."
So elegantly form’d by nature;
The maid in ev'ry graceful feature.
When kindred beauties each discovers;
And thou to bless this charming creature.
So mild your looks, your children thence,
Will early learn the task of duty,
The girls with all their mother's beauty.
At once such graces and such spirit!
Each blessing equal to your merit.
THE HEART THAT CAN FEEL FOR ANOTHER. JACK Stedfast and I were both messmates at sea,
And plough'd half the world o'er together, And many hot battles encounter'd have we,
Strange climates, and all kinds of weather.
Determind to stand by each other;
Is the heart that can feel for another.
When often suspended 'twixt water and sky,
And death yawn'd on all sides around us, Jack Stedfast and I scorn’d to murmur or sigh, For danger could never confound us.
Smooth seas and rough billows, to us were the same,
Convinc'd we must brave each and t'other; And like jolly sailors, in life's chequer'd game,
Give the neart that can feel for another.
Thus smiling at peril, at sea or on shore,
We box the old compass right cheerly; Toss the cann, boys, about-and a word or two more,
Yes, drank to the girls we lov'd dearly. For sailors, pray mind me, tho' strange kind of fish,
Love the girls just as dear as their mother; And what's more, they love, what I hope you all wish,
'Tis the heart that can feel for another.
ROSES WILL FADE.
Oh! roses are sweet on the beds where they grow,
Fresh spangled with dews of the morn; On nature's kind bosom in safety they glow,
Protected by many a thorn. There awhile in full richness exists the sweet flower,
Till its fast falling leaves drop around; Then soon of the charms of the pride of the bower, There's nought but the thorns can be found.
Ah! roses are sweet, but sweet roses will fade!
So fares it with beauty in life's early prime,
When arm’d with stern rigour the breast;
Then sinks into age still unblest;
How you guard your soft breast from Love's woes, Lest apathy, spreading like thorns round your heart, You at last drop alone like the rose :
For roses are sweet, but sweet roses will fade!
ENCOMPASS'd in an angel's frame,
An angel's yirtues lay:
And call'd its own away.
Can never more return !
Ah me! my Anna's urn!
Can I forget that bliss refin’d,
Which, bless'd with her, I knew ?
Were bound by love too true.
In festive dance to turn,
Now weeping deck her urn.
The soul escaping from its chain,
She clasp'd me to her breast, « To part with thee is all my pain !"
She cried, then sunk to rest ! While mem'ry shall her seat retain,
From beauteous Anna torn, My heart shall breathe its ceaseless strain
Of sorrow o'er her urn.
There, with the earliest dawn, a dove
Laments her murder'd mate : There Philomela, lost to love,
Tells the pale moon her fate.
and ivy round me spread,
DRINK TO ME ONLY.
DRINK to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
And I'll not look for wine.
Doth ask a drink divine;
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much hon’ring thee,
It would not wither'd be.
And sent it back to me;
Not of itself, but thee.
WE BRETHREN FREE MASONS. We brethren Free-Masons, let's mark the great name, Most ancient and loyal, recorded by fame, In unity met, let us merrily sing, The life of a mason's like that of a King. No discord, no envy, amongst us shall be, No confusion of tongues, but let us agree; Not like building of Babel, confound one another, But fill up your glasses, and drink to each brother. A tower they wanted to lead them to bliss; I hope there's no brother but knows what it is; Three principal steps in our ladder there be, A myst’ry to all but those that are free.
Let the strength of our reason keep the square of our
heart, And virtue adorn ev'ry man in his part; The name of a Cowan we'll not ridicule, But pity his folly, and count him a fool. Let's lead a good life, whilst power we have, And when that our bodies are laid in the grave, We hope with good conscience to heav'n to climb, And give Peter the pass-word, the token, and sign. Saint Peter he opens, and so we pass in, To a place that's prepar’d for all those free from sin; To that heav'nly lodge which is tild most secure, A place that's prepar'd for all masons that's pure.
THE NEGRO BOY.
And selfish views alone bear sway,
Alas! for this poor simple toy,
I sold a blooming Negro Boy.
Though black yet comely to the view,
To fiends, that Afric's coast annoy,
I sold the blooming Negro Boy.
His tender limbs in chains confin'd,
But still to gain this simple toy,