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Tho' murdering carnage stalks in view,
OH! TWINE A WREATH OF EVERGREEN,
Oh! twine a wreath of evergreen,
Of him, who 'mid life's varied scenes,
Of him, who forc'd by honour's call,
Oh, twine a wreath, &c.
How few, who wealth and power obtain,
Too oft, in youth's gay sunny days,
Oh, twine a wreath, &c.
WITHIN A MILE OF EDINBURGH. 'Twas within a mile of Edinburgh town, In the rosy time of the year, Sweet flowers bloom'd, and the grass was down, And each shepherd woo'd his dear; Bonny Jockey, blythe and gay, Kiss'd sweet Jenny making hay;
The lassie blush'd, and frowning, eried,
I canna, canna, winna, winna, munna buckle to,
Jockey was a wag that ne'er wad wed,
Tho' long he had follow'd the lass, Contented she earn'd and eat her brown bread, And merrily turn'd up the grass. Bonny Jockey, blythe and free, Won her heart right merrily, Yet still she blush'd, and frowning, cried, Na, na, it winna do;
I canna, canna, winna, winna, munna buckle to
But when he vow'd he wad make her his bride,
Bonny Jockey, blythe and free,
At church, she nae mair frowning cried,
I canna, canna, winna, winna, munna buckle to.
THE TRUMPET SOUNDS.
He was fam'd for deeds of arms, She a maid of envi'd charms; Now to him her love imparts, One pure flame pervades both hearts; Honour calls him to the field, Love to conquest now must yield; Sweet maid, he cries, again I'll come to thee, When the glad trumpet sounds to victory.
Battle now with fury glows!
He with love and conquest burns,
O death! she cries, thou'rt welcome now to me,
When the forehead of Phoebus illumines the east, And the lark bails the birth of the morn,
I shake off the mantle that's woven by rest,
And obey the rebuke of the horn.
Then the chase, the blithe chase, gives a zest to the day,
And thought sinks immersed in the loud bark away.
And echo repeats what is said,
Then hither, ye wretched, be blissful, be gay, And swell the blithe chorus of hark, hark, away.
Of old lovely Dian, with buskin and spear,
Brush'd the glittering dew from the plain; For the sports of celestials could never compare With the sports of Di and her train, Then who'd give to Morpheus one moment of day When the horn glads the senses with hark, hark
Though Diogenes liv'd as the tyrant of mirth,
Had he followed the chase, not a doubt of man's worth,
Would have enter'd his cynical mind, But drown his vile mandates, with hark, hark, &c.
OF WINE, OF ROSY WINE.
Of wine, rosy wine around;
Oh, fill the goblet high,
Let friendship's hand the cup compound,
A draught of sun beam steep'd in dew.
It spreads abroad through midnight gloom,
While mortals drink, old earth move round,
SWEET KATHLANE MACREE.
Ye winds and ye waves, bear my sorrow away, And ye echoes go babble, for nought can I say!
Oh, bear to the ear of sweet Kathlane Macree, That my thoughts are on her, tho' she thinks not of
Och why will you wander like goose leaving gander
Sweet Kathlane Macree, sweet Kathlane Macree.
My true little heart is your own, my dear creature,
Now union's the word, it is not keeping order,
Then will you wander, &c.
TAKE A BUMPER AND TRY.
The women all tell me I'm false to my lass