And 'twas strange when around one such vices appear, She could weep with her friend, and her sorrows revere! But, ah! those proud blasts that blind fortune has sent On the head of her father, with age lowly bent, Resolv'd to possess her, he chas'd all her fears; To the want of her parents her virtue she sold ; GODDESS! descend on our plains, And enlighten our rustical throng! To thy altar I offer my strains, And the graces of Nisida's song. To twine the rude wreath while we rove, O let thy sweet power improve Tho' THE GOLDFINCH. Tho' a rustic I live in the fields, And attend to my pipe and my sheep Yet a softness my passion reveals, That has taught me to sigh and to weep. HO' cloudy skies and storms appear, All cares are o'er; How blest the British Sailor! From love alone my cares arose: Her cares are o'er; How blest her constant Sailor! The Sailor's duty he performs, Rewarded by the fair one's love; 'All cares are o'er; When beauty's smile Rewards his toil, How blest the British Sailor! ΤΟ To lecture I come, and your pardon I erave, For truly no learning my subject imparts; So spare me, kind critics, all-potent and grave, For mine is a poor simple lecture on hearts. First, then, Britain's glory, the heart of a Tar; Is there aught of more courage, or precious in worth? Ah no! whether glowing in peace or in war, 'Tis alike ever true to the place of its birth; Then health to a Sailor!-and this be the strainThe Tars of Old England again and again! The heart of a Lover, when tender and true, Is a heart to be priz'd, as each woman must own; While the heart of a Miser, to give him his due, Is a heart-selfish mortal !—as hard as a stone. Then the heart of a Virgin-and such,too, there be, That love with a passion devoid of all art— Shall surely be rated and set down by me; Her bosom's all sweetness, all softness her heart: Then health, blooming health!-and let this be the strain, To Love, and true Lovers, again and again! The heart of a Lawyer-and, O what a thing! 'Tis a compound of something that's hard to define; When you think it all honey, you find it all sting, And what really good for I cannot assign. Now, then, for a heart, and a gallant one, too; Tis a Soldier's-and where is a braver in fight? For England it beats ever loyal and true, And proves that her good is its dearest delight: Then health to a Soldier and this be the strainOur Soldiers and Sailors again and again! I WEEL WEEL can remember how can I forget it?.. Nanny's blithe wedding, when I held the glove; How my feet they danc'd quick, but my heart it danc'd quicker, For Willy was there, and O! he was my love. My heart how it beats when I look upon thee! Now Willy was bonny, his hair was a' gowden; Bright, bright were his cen, when he turn'd them on me; Wi' the rose on his cheek, like the blush o' the I lov'd him already, I ken'd na to jeer him, The church made us ane, and our wooing was done. O my Willy, &c. To the gallant arm'd train, Who are crossing the main In the cause of their Country and King; Of the all-glorious band, The warmest of wishes we sing. Ev'ry Ev'ry Briton will join hand and heart in the strain; The kind visit to pay, Ev'ry Briton, &c. Gaul's fraternal embrace, So highly we prize as her suit; To give her a British salute. Ev'ry Briton, &c. When arriv'd on her shore, Let her welcome us o'er, With Caira' on fife and with drum; In return for her song, We will teach her, 'ere long, The chorus of 'Britons strike home.' Since an army of France, nam'd 'Tis pity that she should not have one; So, for that compliment, We this ariny have sent, Convinc'd she would find it a brave one. Ev'ry Briton, &c. Old |