EXCHANGING vows of love and truth,

Beside a purling stream
Sat Joe and Jane in prime of youth,

And love was all their theme:
Gin ye can loo me, lass, he cry'd,

Aud loo but only me,
Ye soon shall be a bonny bride,

And I'll be true to thee, lassie.
A wee house o'er the burn ye see

Wi' thatch weel cover'd o'er;
'Twill shelter gi'e to thee and me,
And what shou'd we want more?





Let others follow fame and wealth,

For greater joys I sigh:
I ask of Heaven sweet ease and health,
With thee to live and die.




can loo

PRITHEE, Sally, speak thy mind

Am I the man or no?
If I am not, be so kind

To tell me plainly so.
If my passion you approve,

I'm your faithful lover:
If you can't return my love,

I must try another.

Pray Pray consider that our prime

Does very soon decay;
Think how great would be the crime
To let it slip away.

If my passion, &c.

Tho' my heart prefers your charms,

I love to laugh, not cry; Tho'it beats with soft alarms, For no woman will I die.

If my passion, &c.

COUNG William seeks my heart to move,

And sighs and talks so much of love :
He'll hang or drown, I fear it-
Of pangs, and wounds, and pointed darts,
Of Cupid's bow, and bleeding hearts-

I vow I cannot bear it.

He says I'm pretty-mighty well !
And witty, too-that's better still!

Aud sensible, I swear it:
But words, we know, are nought but wind;
Unless he'll freely speak his mind,

I vow I cannot bear it.

The shepherd dances blithe and gay,
And sweetly on the pipe can play:

I own I like to hear it:
But downcast looks, and hums and haws,
So badly plead a lover's cause,
I vow I cannot bear it.

I wish

I wish some friendly nymph, or swain,
Would bid the bashful boy speak plain ;

I'd wed him, I declare it.
Then pluck up courage, like my sex ;
The honest swain no more I'd vex,

But wed him, I declare it.

TO-morrow's a cheat, let's be merry to-day,

to stay; Who but cowardswoulde'er at his summonsrepine? Who but cowards would steal from a liquor divine? For ’tis wine that can blunt the keen thorn of pale

sorrow, As it moistens the flow'r that may fade ere to


Since rosy Contentment dwells not with the great, Leave wealth and dull thinking to slaves of the

state; But let mirth and good humour our banquet still

share, And wine be our armour against sullen Care: For 'tis wine, gen'rous wine, blunts the thorn of

pale sorrow, Asit moistens the flow'r that may fade ere to

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To-morrow's a cheat--the blest moment let's prize; The sting of reflection age bids us despise ; Come, Friendship, then, sweeten the care drown

ing bowl, That's sacred to Love, the delight of the soul. D 2


For 'tis wine that can blunt the keen thorn of pale

sorrow, As it moistens the flow'r that may fade ere to


EAR Nancy I've sail'd the world all around,

And seven long years been a rover, To make for my charmer each shilling a pound;

But now my hard perils are over. I've sav'd from my toils many hundreds in gold,

The comforts of life to beget;
Have borne, in each climate, the heat and the cold,

And all for my pretty brunette:
Then say, my sweet girl, can you love me?

Tho'others may boast of more riches than minė,

And rate my attractions e'en fewer; At their jeers and ill nature I'll scorn to repine,

Can they boast of a heart that is truer: Or will they for thee plough the hazardous main,

In the seasons both stormy and wet?
If not, why I'll do it again and again,

And all for my pretty brunette:
Then say, my sweet girl, can you love me?

When order'd afar, in pursuit of the foe,

I sigh at the bodings of fancy; Which fain would persuade me I might be laid low, Aud ah! never more see my Nancy.


But hope, like an angel, soon banish'd the thought,

And bade me such nonsense forget;
I took the advice, and undauntedly fought,

And all for my pretty brunette:
Then-say, my sweet girl, can you love me?

O'ER the parents of Mary, who live in a vale,

Now Penury flings the dark shade of her veil; Neglected, forlorn, and all wretched, they shed Reciprocal tears upon Poverty's bed. One child, a sweet girl, was the pride of their years, On whom they bestow'd all their love, all their When they wept she would cry; when they play'd,

she would smile; And would grieve undissembling, and laugh with

out guile.


If Nature e'er gave to the loveliest face
A lasting impression of infantine grace,
Surely this is the charm by which Mary excels
All the maids on the green, all the city-bred belles:
Su artless her air, so unstudy'd her mein,
To all she was fairer than beauty's bright Queen;
Her eyes shed a lustre, that caus'd in each breast
A fanie that consum'd, alas! robb'd it of rest,

Atschool she was meek, yet was sprightly and gay, Aodsurpass'd all the girls, save inflirting and play;

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