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A CANADIAN BOAT SONG.

FAINTLY as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune, and our oars keep time

Soon as the woods on shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn!

Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast,

The rapids are near and the daylight's past.

Why should we yet our sail unfurl? There is not a breath the blue wave to curl

But when the wind blows off the shore, Oh, sweetly, we'll rest our weary oar. Blow, breezes, blow, &c.

Utáwas tide! this trembling moon
Shall see us float o'er thy surges soon.
Saint of this green Isle! hear our
prayer,

Grant us cool heavens and favoring air
Blow, breezes, blow, &c

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CROOS-KEEN LAWN.

LET the farmer praise his grounds,
As the huntsman does his hounds,
And the shepherd his sweet-scented
lawn,

While I more blest than they,
Spend each happy night and day
With my smiling little Croos-keen
lawn, lawn, lawn,

Oh, my smiling little Croos-keen
lawn.

Leante ruma Croos-keen

Sleante gar ma voor meh neen Agus gramachree ma cooleen ban, ban, ban,

Agus gramachree ma cooleen ban
In court with manly grace,
Should Sir Toby plade his case,

And the merits of his cause make
known,

Then fill your glasses high,
Let's not part with lips so dry,

Without his cheerful glass,
He'd be stupid as an ass,

So he takes a little Croos-keen lawn
Leante ruma, &c

Though the lark should proclaim it

is dawn;

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But if we can't remain,
May we shortly meet again,

To fill another Croos-keen lawn.
Leante ruma, &c

And when grim death appears,
After few but happy years,
And tells me my glass it is run,
I'll say, begone you slave,
For great Bacchus gives me lave
Just to fill another Croos-keen lawn
Leante ruma, &c

COME O'ER THE SEA.
AIR.-Cuishlih ma cree.

COME o'er the sea,
Maiden! with me,

Mine thro' sunshine, storm, and

snows!

Seasons may roll,
But the true soul

Burns the same, where'er it goes. Let fate frown on, so we love and part not;

'Tis life where thou art, 'tis death where thou art not.

Then come o'er the sea,
Maiden! with me,
Come wherever the wild wind blows
Seasons may roll,

But the true soul
Burns the same,

Is not the sea
Made for the free?

w

where'er it goes.

Land, for courts and chains alone?
Here we are slaves;

But on the waves,

Burns the

Love and liberty's all our own! No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us

All earth forgot, and all Heav'n around
us!

Then come o'er the sea,
Maiden! with me,

Come wherever the wild wind blows.
Seasons may roll,

But the true soul

same,

where'er it goes

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ANSWER TO HEART AND LUTE.

YOUR HEART AND LUTE ARE ALL
THE STORE.

YOUR heart and lute are all the store
You say you have for me;
Then bring them, love, I ask no more,
Than those dear gems from thee.
A lute whose plaintive chords recall
The bliss of happier days;
A heart so form'd to feel for all,
And chase all gloomy rays.

Your heart and lute are all the store

You say you have for me;

Then bring them, love, I ask no more Than those dear gems from thee With such a lute how could you fail To cheer each wand'rer's way, When pouring forth some lover's tale, Or ministrel's warlike lay; A thought of care can never rise To break a spell like this; Where pleasure only now survives In such enchanting bliss

Your heart and lute are all the store
You say you
have for me;
Then bring them, love, I ask no more
Than those dear gems from thee.

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