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When winter old brought frost and cold, he open'd house to all, And though threescore and ten his years, he featly led the ball: Nor was the houseless wanderer e'er driven from his hall;

For while he feasted all the great, he ne'er forgot the small,

Like a fine old, &c.

But time, though sweet, is strong in flight, and years roll'd swiftly by, And autumn's falling leaf proclaim'd the old man he must die.

He laid him down right tranquilly, gave up life's latest sigh,

And mournful friends stood round his couch, and tears bedim'd each eye, For the fine old English gentleman, all of the olden time.

FALSE ONE, I LOVE THEE STILL. STILL TO gently o'er me stealing, Mem'ry will bring back the feeling, Spite of all my grief, revealing

That I love thee, dearly love thes still;

Though some other swain may charm thee,

Ah! no other e'er can warm me,
Yet, never fear, I will not harm thee-
No, thou false one, no, I fondly love
thee still.


WHEN the trump of Fame,
Loud sounding Freedom's call,
Bids, in Freedom's name,
To fight or bravely fall-
Bold the hero goes,

Where maddening war-shouts rise, And, midst countless foes, He flies, he flies. Bright the sword now gleams,

And banners wave on high; Round, the life-blood streams,

'Mid cries of "Yield, or die!" "Till victory uprears

Her pennon, red with gore, And shouts, to patriot ears, That slavery reigns no more.

When the voice of Love
To rescue calls the brave,

Who so base would prove,
He would not fly to save?
Love, whose torch in hall
And bower doth brightly flame,
Champions finds in all

Who manhood claim.
Then shame befall the knight,
Who, false to honor's laws,
Shuns the listed fight

In injured woman's cause
May he from the foe,

In battle, recreant fly, And by some traitor blow, Unpitied, fall and die!

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COME, mariner, down in the deep with me,

And hide thee under the wave;
For I have a bed of coral for thee,
And quiet and sound shall thy slum
bers be

In a cell of the mermaid' cave.
Come, mariner, &c.

And she who is waiting with cheek so pale,

At the tempest and ocean's roar,


And weeps when she hears the mena cing gale,

Or sighs to behold her mariner's sail
Come whitening up the shore.
Come, mariner, &c.

She has not long to linger for thee,
Her sorrows will soon be o'er ;
For the cord shall be broken, the pri-
soners free;

Her eye shall close, and her dreams will be

So sweet, she will wake no more.
Come, mariner, &c


OH! did you ne'er hear of Kate

She lives on the banks of Killarney: From the glance of her eye, shun danger and fly,

For fatal's the glance of Kate

For that eye is so modestly beaming, You ne'er think of mischief she's dreaming:

Yet, oh! I can tell, how fatal's the


That lurks in the eye of Kate

O should you e'er meet this Kate

Who lives on the banks of Killarney, Beware of her smile, for many a wile Lies hid in the smile of Kate Kearney. Though she looks so bewitchingly simple,

Yet there's mischief in every dimple, And who dares inhale her sigh's spicy


Must die by the breath of Kate



A BABY was sleeping,
Its mother was weeping,

For her husband was far on the wide raging sea,

And the tempest was swelling 'Round the fisherman's dwelling, And she cried, "Dermont, darling, oh! come back to me!"

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