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As I was lumbering down de street.
O down de street,

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O down de street,

Dat pretty color'd gal I chanc'd to meet, O, she was fair to view.


Den Bowery gals will come out to night,

Will you come out to night, Will you come out to night, O de Bowery gals will you come out to night,

And dance by de light ob de moon.

Den we stopped awhile and had some talk,

O we had some talk,
O we had some talk,

And her heel cover'd up the whole side


As she stood right by mẹ.

Den de Bowery gals, &c

I'd like to kiss dem lubly lips,
Dem lubly lips,
Dem lubly lips,

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I think dat I could loose my wits,
And drap right on the floor.
Den de Bowery gals, &c.

I ax'd her would she go to a dance,
Would she go to a dance,
Would she go to a dance,
I thought dat I might have a chance
To shake my foot wid her.
Den de Bowery gals, &c

I, danc'd all night and my heel kept a

O my heel kept a rocking,
O my heel kept a rocking,
And I balance to de gal wid a hole in
her stocking,

She was prettiest gal in de room.
Den de Bowery gals, &c

I am bound to make dat gal my wife,
Dat gal my wife,
Dat gal my wife,

O, I should be happy all my life,
If I had her along wid me,
Den de Bowery gals, &c

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AIR.-Rosin the Beau.

He must be a man of disarning,
Who never was born for a fool;
The stupid will never heed larning,
For thein what's the use of a school.
Och darling, I'll very soon show
That larning's made up in my

Och, surely, I'll very soon show. If a man's a donkey, so mulish,

Och, tache him to love if ye can; The monkey in troth will look foolish, What's worse than an ignorant mau.

Dear lassies avoid such a Beau,
If a man's a monkey when single,
Och, faith! he's not fit for a Beau.

If a man meets a lass to his liking,
And he's any wisdom at all;
His features may not be quite striking,
Yes straitway into love she will fall
Just up to the lassie you go,
Ye tache her the science of loving,
Och, there's science in being a



My larning I've purty well shown ye, In troth though I'm bothered through life;

Broad hints, my dear girls, I have thrown ye,

For sorely I'm wanting a wife.
Is there any lass wanting a Beau,
I'll tache her the art of love-


Och, try me and I'll be your Beau.


ON yonder rock reclining, That fierce and swarthy form behold; Fast his hands his carbine hold'Tis his best friend of old!

This way his steps inclining, His scarlet plume waves o'er his brow, And his velvet cloak hangs low, Playing in graceful flow!

Tremble! E'en while the storm is


Afar hear echo repeating,

Diavolo! Diavolo! Diavolo !

Altho' his foes waylaying, He fights with rage and hate combin'd;

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Towards the gentle fair they find
He's ever mild and kind;

The maid to heedless straying.
(For one, we Pietro's daughter know,)
Home returns full sad and slow,
What can have made her so?

Tremble! Each one the maiden meet.

Is sure to be repeating,
Diavolo! Diavolo! Diavolo!

Perchance all are mistaken,
Dear maid in what they tell to you,
And whate'er is lost 'tis true

He may have stolen too.
Suspicions oft awaken,

As many a guiltless swain may know;
While he alone who caused their woe
Passes incognito-
Tremble! For in this sighing lover
Each eye may surely discover,
Diavolo! Diavolo! Diavolo!


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