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Soft and funnily,

Blyth and bonnily,

Quite an Adonis was Captain Mulligan.
He was willing,

[graphic]

She was killing,

Soft she cried to brave O'Mulligan;
"O, you jewel!
Cruel-jewel,
Willing-killing,
Captain Mulligan."

Shoulders rising over his ears,

Face just like the moon in full again, Legs in shape like a tailor's sheers,

You ne'er saw the fellow of Captain Mulligan-
Limping, twaddling, Miss O Shea,
Glances hinching him,

Quite bewitching him,"
Ogling bonnily,

Squinting funnily,

She was a Venus to Captain Mulligan.
"O, Sweet Kitty

You're so pretty,

Lost he cried, the brave O'Mulligan";
"O. Sweet Kitty;
Pretty-witty,
Kitty-pity,

Captain Mulligan."

Married, how they altered their tune;
Love, once fierce, faith! soon grew cold again;
When they'd pass'd the sweet honey moon,
She blacken'd the eye of hrave Captain Mulligan.
Whisky tippling,.

Night and day;

Seolding, fighting him,
Horns affrighting him,
"Och! be easy now;"

"The devil go with you," then Mrs. Mulliga "Faith, I knew it,

I should rue it!"

So he cried, poor Captain Mulligan;
"You are my gruel,
Cruel fewel,

Killing-milling,
Mrs. Mulligan.”

THE POST CAPTAIN.

When Steerwell heard me first impart,
Our brave commander's story,
With ardent zeal, his youthful heart
Swell'd high for naval glory,
Resolv'd to gain a valiant name,

For bold adventures eager,

When first a cabin boy on board the Fame, He would hold on the jigger,

While ten jolly tars with musical Joe, Hove the anchor a-peak, sing yeo, heave yeo, yeo, &c.

To hand top-ga'nt sails next he learned
With quickness, care, and spirit,
Whose generous master soon discern'd,
And priz'd his dawning spirit,

He taught him soon to reef and steer
When storms convulsed the ocean,

Where shoals made skilful veterans fear;
Which mark'd him for promotion.

And none to the pilot e'er answerd like he, When he gave the command, hard a port, helm alee,

Luff, boys luff, keep her near,

Clear the buoy, make the pier,

None to the pilot e'er answer'd like he,
When he gave the command in the pool, or at sea,
Hard a port, helm a lee.

For valour, skill, and worth renown'd;
The foe he oft defeated:

And now with fame and fortune crown'd,
Post Captain he is rated :

Who, should our injur'd country bleed,
Still bravely will defend ler:
Now blest with peace, if beauty plead,
He'll prove his heart is tender.
Unaw'd, yet mild, to high and low,
To poor and wealthy, friend or foe,
Wounded tars share his wealth,
And the fleet drink his health,
Priz'd be such hearts, for aloft they will go,
Which always are ready compassion to show,
To a brave conquer'd foe.

KITTY OF COLERAINE.

As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping With a pitcher of milk from the fair of Coleraine, When she saw me, she stumbled, the pitcher it tumbled,

And all the sweet butter-milk water'd the plain.

Oh! what shall I do now? 'twas looking at you '

now,

Sure, sure, such a pitcher I'll ne'er meet again; 'Twas the pride of my dairy, O, Barney M'Leary You're sent as a plague to the girls of Coleraine. I sat down beside her, and gently did chide her, That such a misfortune should give her such pain,

A kiss then I gave her, and before I did leave her,
She vow'd for such pleasures she'd break it again.
Twas hay making season,
I can't tell the reason,
Misfortunes will never come single 'tis plain,
For very soon after poor Kitty's disaster,

The devil a pitcher was whole in Coleraine.

THE LAD THAT I LOVE.

How sweet are the flowers that grow by yon fountain,

And sweet are the cowslips that spangle the

grove,

And sweet is the breeze that blows over the moun

tain,

Yet none is so sweet as the lad that I love.

Then I'll weave him a garland,

A fresh flowing garland,

With lilies and roses,

With sweet blooming posies;

A garland I'll give to the lad that I love.

It was down in the vale where the sweet Torze

gliding,

Its murm'ring stream ripples through the dark grove,

I own'd what I felt, all my passion confiding,
To ease the fond sighs of the lad that I love.
Then I'll weave, &c.

JULIA.

Could worth and beauty shake my faith,
It soon would yield to those bright eyes;
But cold, in the abode of death,

The friend of my affection lies.

O, could I, from my sorrowing heart,
My fixed regard for her remove,
And bid the charms of youth depart→→→
You soon would charm that heart I love.
But ah! when death devoured her bloom,
And filled my deart with fruitless care,
Love broke her arrows on the tomb,
And Hope sunk with her anchor there!

THE DEATH OF NELSON.

RECITATIVO.

O'er Nelson's tomb, with silent grief oppress'd, Britannia mourned her hero, now at rest,

But those bright laurels ne'er shall fade with

years,

Whose leaves are watered by a nation's tears.

SONG.

'Twas in Trafalgar's bay,
We saw the Frenchmen lay,
Each heart was bounding then
We scorned the foreign yoke-

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