« ForrigeFortsett »
When often beset hy this beauty and that,
My tongue in their praise never faulter'd; With eachone Ichatter'd,and humour'd their chat,
Yet still my fond heart never alter'd;
I chanc'd, when a lover, to dally,
Of Sally, my sweet pretty Sally,
And ever shall she be the pride of niy song,
Whose constancy nothing could sever;
Her love was as faithful as ever ;
A passion so true who can rally?
For Sally, my sweet pretty Sally,
Twixt Richmond town
More than could lucky I;
With wherry tight,
/ cheerfully did row; And, to complete this princely life,
Sure never man had friend and wife Like Poll and my Partner Joe.
I rolled in joys like these a while,
How with my wherry part !
But, when on board,
They gave the word, To foreign parts to go,
I ru'd the moment I was born,
That ever I should thus be torn, From Poll and my Partner Joe.
I did my duty manfully,
And, night or day,
Could find my way,
Quicksands, and gales of wind,
In climes afar,
Pour'a Pour'd broadsides on the foe,
In hopes these perils to relate
As by my side attentive sate My Poll and my Partner Joe.
At last it pleas’d his Majesty
And honest hearts,
From foreign parts,
Now safe from all alarms
For, seeing I was finely trick'd, Plump to the devil I fairly kick'd My Pull and iny Partner Joe.
I bore iny
OU gentlemen of England, who live at horar Ah! little do
upon the dangers of the seas; Give ear unto the mariners, and they will plainly all the cares and the fears,
When the stormy winds do blow.
If enemies oppose as, when England is at wars With any foreigu nations, we fear no wounds or
scars ; Our roaring guns shall teach then our valour for
to know, Whilst they reel on the keel, When the stormy winds do blow.
Then courage all brave mariners, and never be
afraid, Whilst we have bold adventurers we ne'er shall
want a trade : Our merchants will employ as to bring them
wealth we know, Then be bold, work for gold, When the stormy winds do blow.
TE gentle maid of whom I sing,
Once liy'd where Tweed's blue waters wave, But now the modest flower of spring
Hangs weeping o'er her dewy grave. Tond nymphs ! of Mary's fate beware,
Of perjur'd William's vows take heed, Lest you
should love and then despair, Like gentle Mary of the Tweed.
Tko' long he woo'd the lovely maid,
And she was faithful in return,
Alarmd Alari'd at her false lover's flight,
Her fair compauions sought the mead, To sink the hopes, in endless night,
Of gentle Mary of the Tweed.
She heard--but scorning to upbraid,
She breath'd alone the secret sigh, For graceful pride induc'd the maid
To hide her wrongs from ev'ry eye. Here, in these shades, a prey to grief,
She tuu'd to plaintive strains the reed; 'Till death from woe,
blest relief, Smote gentle Mary of the Tweed.
Now, in the turf-bound grave at rest,
Where yonder willow droops its head, With hopeless care no more oppressid,
She sleeps beneath the waving shade. The cruel wrongs are all forgot
Which forc'd her virgin heart to bleed; Fond nymphs! be yours a milder lot
Than gentle Mary's of the Tweed.
Says Dick to Tom now that's your sort,
Come fill a bumper of the best,