And would throw him bouquets ou

the stage,

Which caused him to meet her; how he ran me down,

To tell you would take a whole page.
He'd fly through the air, etc.

One night, I as usual, went to her dear home,

Found there her mother and father alone; I asked for my love and soon they made known,

:

To my horror, that she'd run away!* She'd packed up her box and eloped in the night,

With him, with the greatest of ease: From two stories high, he had lowered her down

To the ground, on his flying Trapeze. He'd fly through the air, etc. Some months after this, I went to a Hall, Was greatly surprised to see, on the wall, A bill in red letters, which did my heart gall

That she was appearing with him! He taught her gymnastics, and dressed her in tights,

To help him to live at his case,

And made her assume a masculine name! And now she goes on the Trapeze ! Chorus. She floats through the air with the greatest of ease,

You'd think her a man on the flying Trapeze,

She does all the work, while he takes his ease,

And that's what's become of my love!

WOULD I WERE A BOY AGAIN.

O WOULD I were a boy again,

When life seemed formed of sunny

years,

And all the heart then knew of pain
Was swept away in transient tears.
Was swept away in transient tears.
When ev'ry late, hope whisper'd then,
My fancy deemed was only truth.
O would that I could know again,
The happy visions of my youth.

O would I were a boy again, etc.

'Tis vain to mourn that years have shown,

How false these fairy visions were;

Or murmur that mine eyes have known,
The burden of a fleeting tear,
But still the heart will fondly cling,
To hopes no longer prized as truth,
And memory still delights to bring,
The happy visions of my youth.

O would I were a boy again, etc.

OULD IRELAND! YOU'RE MY DARLIN',
OULD Ireland! your'e my jewel, sure,
My heart's delight and glory;
Till time shall pass his empty glass,
Your name shall live in story.
And this shall be the song for me,
The first my heart was larnin',
Before my tongue one accent sung,
Ould Ireland! you're my darlin'.

My blessing's on each manly son
Of thine who will stand by thee;
But hang the knave and dastard slave
So base as to deny thee.

Then bould and free, while yet for me
The globe is round us whirlin',
My song shall be, Gra Galmachree,
Ould Ireland! you're my darlin'.

Sweet spot of earth that gave me birth,
Deep in my soul I cherish,

While life remains within these veins,
A love that ne'er can perish.
If it was a thing that I could sing,
Like any thrush or starlin',
In cage or tree, my song should be,
Ould Ireland! your'e my darlin'.

PRETTY MAID MILKING HER COW. Ir being on a fine summer's morning, As birds sweetly tuned on each bough, I heard a fair maid sing most charming, As she sat a milking her cow. Her voice was enchanting-melodious, Which left me scarce able to go; My heart it was soothed in solace, By the pretty maid milking her cow.

With courtesy I did salute her: "Good-morrow, most amiable maid; I am your captive slave for the future." "Kind sir, do not banter," she said; "I am not such a precious rare jewel, That I should enamour you so;

I am but a plain country girl,"

Said this pretty maid milking her cow.

"The Indies afford no such jewel,
So precious and transparent clear,
Oh! do not refuse to be my jewel,
But consent, and love me, my dear;
Take pity, and grant my desire,
And leave me no longer in woe;
Oh! love me, or else I'll expire,
Sweet colleen dhas cruthin amoe." *

"I don't understand what you mean, sir,
I never was a slave yet to love;
These emotions I cannot experience,
So, I pray, these affectious remove;
To marry, I can assure you,

That state I will not undergo,

So, young man, I pray you will excuse

me."

Said this pretty maid milking her cow.

"Had I the wealth of great Omar,
Or all on the African shore;
Or had I great Devonshire's treasure,
Or had I ten thousand times more,
Or had I the lamp of Aladdin,

And had I his genius, also-
I'd rather live poor on a mountain,
With colleen dhas cruthin amoe."

* Pretty maid milking her cow.