Now dash'd upon the billow, In the Bay of Biscay O! At length the wish'd-for morrow, Her yielding timbers sever, A sail in sight appears, We hail her with three cheers! Comfort, damsel, why that sigh? COMFORT, damsel, why that sigh? Heaven in kindness sends us sorrow Patience, damsel, heav'n is nigh, Weigh'd down by each passing show'r, Rolls the dark storm far away, The drop that press'd it, came from heav'n. Old England for Ever, and Long Live the King. IN praise of his monarch, for a Briton to sing, For fifty years thro' all the perils of war, He our country preserv'd, its freedom and laws, Then like true loyal Britons, let's chearfully sing, Old England for ever, and long live the king. To tell all the great deeds that have pass'd since he's reign'd, In my song were it vain, if I try'd, What battles were fought, what victories gain'd, What heroes have conquer'd and died, To reward modest merit was ever his pride, Then like true loyal Britons let's chearfully sing, The Village Crim. Con.; or Snob versus Snip. OH! ye lads and ye laddesses gay, Come bear with my rhyming a bob; Though some said 'twas 'cause of the brads. Now, once for all, Snob thought to marry, Her love Snob thought firm as lump-butter, Soon the maid felt the butter-milk passion, While her heart curdl'd o'er with compassion, The day when the licence was bought, He would any time do, if Snob call'd. Now Nancy belov'd by the tailor, Soon prov'd that the spirit was frail; When Snip dar'd with kisses assail her, She gently confess'd he'd prevail. So Snip got a licence and married This dairy-maid, buxom and fair; While Snob all the time at home tarried, Thinking next day the fond bliss to share. But finding her not come to meet him, Was Mrs. Snip walking from church. Replied Snob, "Into court shall be carried This conduct, d-n me, it's Crim. Con." Yet quickly thought Snob, "Since the licence John Lump's Description of the Comet. OH! what a horrid thing I'ze seen this very night, sirs, I'ze only just com❜d from it, (Spoken.) Dang it, there it were with a nation great tail as long as our old cow's. I ax'd a man what it were made on ? "Made on, you stupid oaf," says he, "why cheese, to be sure!" but thinks I that's all Tooral looral la, tooral fooral loddy, They say if it comes near "I will roast us all alive, sirs, And I am full of fear "Tis coming here full drive, sirs, |