CUSHLAMACREE. He tells me he loves me, He would wish to deceive; His sweet words to me Are my alien ma vorneen cushlama cree. Oh! when will the day come, The blest happy day, When a maiden shall hear All her lover can say. And he speaks out the words He now whispers to me Are my alien ma vorneen cushlama cree. Last night when we parted, His gentle good-by, A thousand times said And each time with a sigh; Were my alien ma vorneen cushlama cree. "TIS SAD TO LEAVE YOUR FATHER LAND. 'Tis sad to leave your father land, Oh, if there were one gentle eye, A SONG A SONG! A MERRY SONG! A SONG a song! a merry song! A song for the gay and free Let the halls resound To the welcome sound, A merry minstrelsy. A song-a song! a jovial song, In their cups divine, And the grapes ripe clustering! A song-a song! a plaintive song, In the 'guise of truth, Who a fair one had betrayed. A song-a song! a merry song! Of mirth and delight, With a merry minstrelsy. A SOLDIER'S LIFE IS THE LIFE WE LOVE. AWAY We march to the bugle sounding, Our hands are firm, and our hearts are glad ; Our steps are light o'er the green turf bounding, And happy's the life of a soldier lad www For smiling lasses, briming glasses, But when from home, and call'd to duty, Our hopes are high, and our flag's unfurl'd, We bid adieu to smiles and beauty, For a soldier's home is the wide, wide world. We seek our foes 'mid cannon's rattle, And when we're victors in the Oh then we sing to the skies above, At Waterloo a hero led us, Whose brow's are wreath'd for the deeds he's done; He taught our foreign foes to dread us, Then cheer for immortal Wellington! For all who hear that hero's story, Then let us sing to the skies above, Though some may fall beyond the billows, No foot shall tread on the soldier's grave; We'll bear them far where bending willows In some lone spot o'er their ashes wave. For though a soldier's call'd sternhearted, Tears we give for those departed; And our dirge shall be to the skies above, A soldier's life is the life we love. THE MAYPOLE COME, lasses and lads Has got a She, And the fiddler standing by. Tol de rol lol, &c. |