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We threw him over our shoulders, and wander'd through the town, Call'd into a neighbour's house and sold him for a crown;
We sold him for a crown, my boys, but I did not tell you where,
For it is my delight of a shiny night in the season of the year."
Well, here's success to poaching, for I do think it fair,
Bad luck to every gamekeeper that would not sell his deer; Good luck to every gamekeeper that wants to buy a hare,
For it is my delight of a shiny night in the season of the year.
MY BOYHOOD'S HOME.
My boyhood's home, I see thy hills,
Tho' years have rolled since thee
I come to thee from war's dread school,
To the war steed adieu-to the trumpet farewell
To the pomp of the palace-the proud gilded dome;
For the green scenes of childhood, I bid ye farewell;
The soldier returns to his boyhood's
My boyhood's home, &c.
THE GRAVE OF WASHINGTON
DISTURB not his slumbers, let Washington sleep
'Neath the boughs of the willow that over him weep;
His arm is unnerved, but his deeds remain bright,
As the stars in the dark vaulted heaven at night.
Oh! wake not the hero, his battles are
Let him rest undisturbed on Potomac's fair shore
On the river's green border so flowery drest,
With the hearts he loved fondly let Washington rest.
Awake not his slumbers, tread lightly
Tis the grave of the Freeman, 'tis Liberty's mould:
Thy name is immortal, our freedom ye won,
Brave sire of Columbia, our own Washington.
Oh! wake not the hero, his battles are o'er,
Let him rest, calmly rest, on his dear native shore,
While the stars and the stripes of our country shall wave,
O'er the land that can boast of a Wash
THE AMERICAN GIRL
TUNE.-March to the Battle Field
OUR hearts are with our native land,
Are shining bright before us;
Her proud flag waving o'er us.
And there are smiles upon our lips
Our hearts are with our native land,
Who strike where honour leads them. We love the taintless air we breathe,
'Tis freedom's endless power, We'll twine for him an endless wreath Who scorns a tyrant's power.
They tell of France's beauties fair,
THE ROVER'S SONG.
Up, rovers, up, with sword and sail,
Spread out our blood red flag.
See now, within gun-shot she draws, Blaze in upon her lee
She feels our light'ning, lads, huzza! Her mizzen swabs the sea.
On, boarders, on, for victory,