Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch.
ROY's wife of Aldivalloch,

Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,
Wat ye how she cheated me,
As I cam o'er the braes of Balloch ?

She vow'd, she swore, she wad be mine;
She said she lo'ed me best of ony;
But, ah! the fause, the fickle quean,
She's ta'en the carle, and left her Johnnie.
Roy's wife, &c.

Her face sae fair, her een sae clear,
Her wee bit mou sae sweet and bonny,
To me she ever will be dear,

Though she's for ever left her Johnnie.
Roy's wife, &c.

But O, she was a canty quean,

And weel could dance the Highland walloch: How happy I, had she been mine, Or I'd been Roy of Aldivalloch! Roy's wife, &c.

A Young Man came with a Lira li la.

A

YOUNG man came, I'll not tell where,
But all to woo a lady fair,

And love it was that brought him there,

With a lira li, lira li la.

He sigh'd and look'd and sigh'd again,
And hop'd this lady's love to win,
But still her heart no love let in,
With a lira li, lira li la.

At length she vow'd, her coyness o'er,
To treat him kinder than before;
But ah! this young man came no more,
With a lira li, lira li la.

O then, ye fair, in mind keep this,
When true love sues for wedded bliss,
Pray ne'er say no, when you mean yeş,
With a lira li, lira li la.

Sailor's Consolation,

SPANKING Jack was so comely, so pleasant, so jolly,

Though winds blew, great guns, still he'd whistle

and sing;

Jack lov'd his friend, and was true to his Molly, And, if honour gives greatness, was great as a king.

One night as we drove with two reefs in the mainsail,
And the scud came on low'ring upon a lee-shore,
Jack went a loft for to hand the top-gallant-sail,
A spray wash'd him ofl, and we ne'er saw him

more.

But grieving's a folly,
Come, let us be jolly,

If we'ye troubles at sea, boys, we've pleasures on shore,

Whiffling Tom, full of mischief or fun in the middle, Through life, in all weathers, at random would job, He'd dance, and he'd sing, and he'd play on the fiddle,

And swig, with an air, his allowance of grog; 'Longside of a Don, in the Terrible frigate,

As yard-arm and yard-arm we lay off the shore, In and out, Whiffling Tom did so caper and jig it, That his head was shot off, and we ne'er saw him

more.

But grieving's a folly, &c.

Bonny Ben was to eachjolly messmate a brother, He was manly and honest, good-natur'd and free; If ever one tar was more true than another

To his friend and his duty, that sailor was he: One day, with the David, to heave the kedge-anchor Ben went in the boat on a bold craggy shore; He overboard tipt, when a shark, and a spanker, Soon nipp'd him in two, and we ne'er saw him

more:

But grieving's a folly, &c.

But what of it all, lads, shall we be down hearted, Because that, mayhap, we now take the last sup; Life's cable must one day or other be parted,

And death, in fast moorings, will bring us all up; But 'tis always the way on't, one scarce finds a brother,

Fond as pitch, honest,hearty,and true to the core, But by battle, or storm, or some strange thing or other,

He's popp'd off the books, and we ne'er see him

more.

But grieving's a folly, &c.

Lash'd to the Helm.

IN storms, when clouds obscure the sky,
And thunders roll, and lightnings fly,
In midst of all those dire alarms,
I think, my Sally, on thy charms.
The troubled main,

The wind and rain,
My ardent passion prove;
Lash'd to the helm,

Should seas o'erwhelm,

I'd think on thee, my love.

When rocks appear on ev'ry side,
And art is vain the ship to guide;
In varied shapes when death appears,
The thoughts of thee my bosom cheers:
The troubled main,

The wind and rain,
My ardent passion prove,
Lash'd to the helm,

Should seas o'erwhelm,

I'd think on thee, my love,

But should the gracious pow'rs be kind,
Dispel the gloom and still the wind,
And waft me to thy arms once more,
Safe to my long-lost native shore,
No more the main

I'd tempt again,

But tender joys improve;
I then with thee

Should happy be,

And think on ́nought but love.

Spotless Maid.

THE spotless maid the like a blooming rose,
Which on its native stem unsully'd grows;
But if some hand the tender stalk invades,
Lost is its beauty, and its colour fades.

Whoever leaves à virtuous maid behind,
Tho' distant still he views her in his mind;
Reflection tells, that absence must improve,
The dear delight of meeting those we love.

The Smuggler.

TWAS one morn, when the wind from the northward blew keenly,

3

While sullenly roar'd the big waves of the main, A fam'd smuggler, Will Watch, kiss'd his Sue, then serenely

Took helm, and to sea boldly steer'd out again. Will had promis'd his Sue, that this trip, if well ended, Shou'd coil up his hopes, and he'd anchor on shore; When his pockets were lin'd, why his life should be mended,

The laws he had broken, he'd never break more.

His sea-boat was trim, made her port, took her lading,

Then Will stood for home, reach'd her offing, and

cried,

This night, if I've luck, furls the sails of my trading, In dock I can lay, serve a friend too beside.

H