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WE'LL MEET THE FRENCH IN THE MORNING.

AIR.-Garyone.

Now that we've pledged each eye of blue,

And every maiden fair and true,
And our green island home-to you,
The ocean's wave adorning;
Let's give one hip, hip, hip, hurra,
And drink e'en to the coming day,
When, squadron square,
We'll all be there,

To meet the French in the morning

May his bright laurels never fade,
Who leads our fighting fifth brigade,
Those lads so true in heart and blade,
And famed for danger scorning:
So join me in one hip, hurra,
And drink e'en to the coming day,
When, squadron square,
We'll all be there,

To meet the French in the morning.

And when with years and honours crowned,

You sit some homeward hearth around,

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And hear no more the stirring sound,
That spoke the trumpet's warning;
You'll fill, and drink, one hip, hurra,
And pledge the memory of the day,
When, squadron square,
They all were there,
To meet the French in the morning.

THE IRISH HUSSAR.

In times not very old,
There lived a baron bold,

Who kept a lovely daughter under bolt and bar.

He was naturally mild,

Till he found his only child
Had been bother'd and beguiled
By an Irish hussar.

His castle wall was steep,
And the foss both wide and deep,

And the lady's tower was lofty, as

most ladies' towers are:

But what foss or rampart stout,
E'er yet held young
love out,
Or ever put to rout

A true Irish hussar?

On one wild and stormy night, In that tower shone a light— "Twas Love's own beacon bright, high o'er the elemental war. Each sentry sought his box Trusting all to wall and locks, Little drameing what a fox

Was a Irish hussar.

To the turret light, so ture
A pebble lightly flew,

When the wakeful maiden knew that
her lover was not far:
Back o'er the rampart wall
She flung a silken ball,
Knowing well that it must fall
Near her Irish hussar.

Soon, according to her hope, She drew back a stair of rope, Which her own fair hands soon fasten'd

to her window bar;

Whilst she heard a voice below
Whisper, "Wo, good Shamroy wo'
Till she comes-then off I go,

Like an Irish hussar."

Though the turret rose so high,
The true lover soon drew nigh,

When the maiden gave a sigh, to see the ground so far:

"Now my love, come down with
me!"

"But," says she, "love, where's
your key?"
"Hanging by my side," cries he,
Like an Irish hussar.

This light laugh soothed her fears: Soon she dried her maiden tears, Knowing well that a faint heart would now her fortune mar.

Soon beneath that tower they stood,
Where he found his charger good,
That would face both fire and
blood

With an Irish hussar.

"Now mount, dear girl, with me." "O, la! sweet love," cries she, I looked, at least, to see a coach or jaunting car."

"Up! ma coleen gra," he cried,
"Your sweet self must learn to

ride,

If you look to be the bride
Of an Irish hussar "

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The maiden made no more ado, But en croupe full lightly flew "And now, good steed, be true in love as you have been in war: Your soft arms round me throw, My own girl," he cried, " just so; Now, one kiss-and off you go― whoo!

Like an Irish hussar."

A SWEET IRISH GIRL IS THE
DARLING.

If they talk about ladies, I'll tell them the plan

Of myself to be sure I'm a nate Irishman,

There is neither sultana nor foreign ma'mselle

That has charms to please me, or can coax me so well

As the sweet Irish girl, so charming

to see:

Och! a tight Irish girl is the darling for me. And sing fillilloo, fire away, frisky she'll be,

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