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And when at last, (for tars and kings

Must find in death a peaceful home,)
The shot its sure commission brings,
And of
poor

Jack the time is come;
Cheerful his duty to fulfil,

His mind's made up, come what will; The cannon's pois’d, from its fell jaws

A fatal shot takes him aback;
But, since he died in honour's cause,

'Tis all one to Jack.

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FT as on Thames' banks I stray,

Where nymphs and swains appear, From all their sports I turn away, If William be not there;

The nymphs then laugh,

The swains all quaff,
Their cyder, ale, and perry;

They nod and wink,

While health they drink,
To William of the ferry,
Dear William of the ferry.

When on the stream the youths attend,

Their manly skill to show,
With rival force the oar they bend,
And o'er the surface row.

But none I'm sure,
E'er ply the oar,

Or steer so well the wherry,

As he who won

The prize alone, Young William of the ferry, Dear William of the ferry.

Such bliss to me his smiles impart,

Whene'er he talks of love;
That now I find my yielding heart,
Does all his hopes approve;

So Hymen's bands,

Shall join our hands, Then I'll be blithe and merry;

And sing through life,

The happy wife,
To William of the ferry,
Dear William of the ferry.

F
NIRST and chief on golden wing,

The cherub contemplation bring,
And the mute silence hist along,
'Less Philomel will deign a song,
In her sweetest saddest plight,
Smoothing the rugged brow of night.

Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly,
Most musical, must melancholy;
Thee, chauntress oft the woods among
I woo, to hear thy ev'ning song,

Or,

Or, missing thee, I walk unseen, On the dry smooth shaven green, To behold the wand'ring moon, Riding near her highest noon.

COM
NOME buy of poor Mary, primroses I sell,
Through London's fam'd city I'm known

mighty well;
Tho' my heart is quite sunk, I constantly cry,
Who'll buy my primroses,who'll buymyprimroses,
Who'll buy my primroses, who'll buy, who'll buy

Friends and parents I've none, I ne'er saw their

face, I wander about the poor child of disgrace ; Yet tho'poor, I am honest, and oft heave a sigh, While crying primroses, who'll buy my primroses,

Who'll buy, &c.

My equals despise me, and say I am proud,
Because I avoid them, and keep from their crowd;
For wicked temptations I ever will fly,
I live by primroses, who'll buy my primroses,

Who'll buy, &c.

Alone and unpitied, I'm look'd on with scorn,
Ah! better for me I had never been born;
Here I sue for protection, while plaintive I cry,
Who'll buy my primroses, who'll buy my primroses,

Who'll buy, &c.

How happily my life I led, ,

Without a day of sorrow,
To plough and sow,
Το reap

and

mow,
No care beyond the morrow;
In heat or cold, in wet or dry,
I never grumbled, no not I;

My wife, 'tis true,

Loves words a few :
What then? I let her prate;
For sometimes smooth, and sometimes rough,
I found myself still rich enough,

In the joys of an humble state.

But when with law I craz'd my head,
I lost both peace and pleasure ;

Long saws to hear,
To search and swear,
And plague beyond all measure;
One grievance brought another on,
My debts increase, my stock is gone;

My wife, she says,
Our means 'twill raise,
What then? 'tis idle prate,

For sometimes smooth, &c.

WHAT

THAT is glory? what is fame?

a

;

Restless mortals to deceive.
Are they renown'd, can they be great,
Who hurl their fellow-creatures tate,

That mothers, children, wives, may grieve, Ask smiling honour to proclaim,

What is glory? what is fame? Hark! the glad mandate strikes the list'ning ear,

The truest glory to the bosum dear, Is when the soul starts soft compassion's tear.

What are riches, pomp, and pow'r?
Gewgaws that endure their hour,

Wretched mortals to allure.
Can greatness reach the idly vain,
Indulging in the princely fame,

Deat to the mis’ries of the poor?
Ask smiling reason to proclaim,

What is glory? what is fame?
Hark! the sweet mandate strikes the list’ning ear;

The truest glory to the bosom dear,
Is when the soul starts soft compassion's tear,

GOD

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