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THE GIRL I'VE LEFT BEHIND ME.
ANONYMOUS.

AIR-"Brighton Camp."

I'm lonesome since I cross'd the hill,
And o'er the moor and valley;
Such heavy thoughts my heart do fill,
Since parting with my Sally.
I seek no more the fine and gay,
For each does but remind me
How swift the hours did pass away
With the girl I left behind me.
Oh! ne'er shall I forget the night,

The stars were bright above me,
And gently lent their silv'ry light,

When first she vow'd to love me. But now I'm bound to Brighton camp, Kind Heaven, then pray guide me, And send me safely back again

To the girl I've left behind me.
Had I the heart to sing her praise
With all the skill of Homer,
One only theme should fill my lays,
The charms of my true lover.
So let the night be e'er so dark,
Or e'er so wet and windy,
Kind Heaven send me back again
To the girl I've left behind me.

Her golden hair in ringlets fair,
Her eyes like diamonds shining,
Her slender waist, with carriage chaste,
May leave the swain repining.
Ye gods above! oh, hear my prayer,
To my beauteous fair to bind me,
And send me safely back again

To the girl I've left behind me.

The bee shall honey taste no more,
The dove become a ranger,
The falling waves shall cease to roar,
E'er I shall seek to change her.
The vows we register'd above

Shall ever cheer and bind me
In constancy to her I love,

The girl I've left behind me.

My mind her form shall still retain
In sleeping or in waking,
Until I see my love again,

For whom my heart is breaking.
If ever I return that way,

And she should not decline me,
I evermore will live and stay
With the girl I've left behind me.

THE ATHLONE LANDLADY.
"TWAS in the sweet town of Athlone
Lived the beautiful Widow Malone,
She kept the Black Boy,
Was an armful of joy,

And had plenty of lovers, och hone, och hone !

O the world for you, Widow Malone !
There was Bolus, the medical drone,
And Latitat, all skin and bone;
But physic and law

Both stuck in her craw,

And she couldn't digest them, och hone, och hone!

O success to sweet Mistress Malone !
But Cupid, who's the divil's own,
Sent a lad who soon altered her tone,

'Twas brave Sergeant MacWhack, With long sword and broad back, And his roguish black eyes at her thrown, och hone!

O they bother'd the Widow Malone.

The love-sick sweet Mistress Malone
So fond of the soldier was grown,
That in secret she'd sigh,
"For the Sergeant I die!

Oh, would I were bone of his bone, och hone !"

More of that to you, Mistress Malone.

Still the lawyer and doctor will groan, And tease the poor widow, och hone! Till one day Pat MacWhack Kick'd them out in a crack,

And a smack gave sweet Katty Malone, och hone!

"O you've won me !" cried Widow Ma lone.

So they wedded one morning, och hone! And with fun sure the stocking was thrown ;

And he's man of the house,
And his beautiful spouse

Is sweet Mistress MacWhack, late Malone, Malone;

So more luck to MacWhack and Malone.

TWO HEADS ARE BETTER THAN ONE. J. E. CARPENTER.

"SURE, Katty, you'd much better tarry," One day said my mother to me, "For you still over young are to marry, My darling, to that you'll agree."

"Oh! mother, your frown sorely tries me,

Why should I not do as you've done?" "Sure," said she, "I had none to advise

me,

And two heads are better than one."

Then who should I meet but dear Larry, I told him the worst of my fears; "It's my mother that wont let me marry," Said I, nearly choked by my tears: "Och! your mother's advice don't be

dreading,

Sure it's just the right thing to be done, For the best of all reasons for wedding Is-that two heads are better than one."

To my mother I went the next morning, I blushed as I showed her the ring, "So it's all my advice you've been scorning !" "Sure, mother, it's no such a thing." "Larry said that you never could scold

me,

For but doing what others have done, And besides we've but proved what you

told me,

That two heads are better than one !"

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