So true to ten thousand I constantly

prove,

O! I'm a sighing, dying,

Kneeling, stealing, smiling, beguiling, Dutiful, beautiful, rattling, prattling, O! botheration-a tight Irish boy.

For war, love, or drinking, myself am the lad,

O! the world itself I go near to destroy;

But a sup of the cratur soon makes my heart glad,

And then I'm a laughing, quaffing, Splashing, dashing, sighing, dying Kneeling, stealing, smiling, beguiling, Dutiful, beautiful, rattling, prattling, O! botheration-a tight Irish boy.

MR. FREE'S SONG.

AIR.-Arrah, Catty, now, can't you be asy? Он what stories I'll tell when my sodgering's o'er,

And the gallant fourteenth is disbanded,

Not a drill nor parade will I hear of no more,

When safely in Ireland I'm landed.

With the blood that I spilt-the Frenchmen I kilt,

I'll drive the young girl's half crazy; And some cute one will cry, with the wink of her eye,

Mister Free, now-why can't you be asy?'

I'll tell how we routed the squadrons in fight,

And destroyed them all at 'Talavera,' And then I'll just add, how we finished the night,

In learning to dance the 'bolera ;'

How by the moonshine, we drank raal wine,

And rose next day fresh as a daisy ; Then some one will cry, with a look mighty sly,

'Arrah, Mickey-now can't you be asy?'

I'll tell how the nights, with Sir Arthur we spent,

Around a big fire in the air too, Or maybe enjoying ourselves in a tent, Exactly like Donnybrook fair too; How he'd call out to me-' pass the wine, Mr. Free,

For you're a nian never is lazy!'

Then some one will cry, with the wink of her eye,

'Arrah, Mickey dear-can't yor be asy?

I'll tell, too, the long years in fighting we passed,

Till Mounseer asked Bony to lead him;

And Sir Arthur, grown tired of glory at last,

Begged of one Mickey Free to succeed him.

'But, acushla,' says I, 'the truth is I'm shy!

There's a lady in Ballymacrazy!

And I swore on the book'-he gave me a look,

And cried, Mickey-'now can't you be asy?'

IF TO THE KING.

IF to the king I had to speak,

Think not my boldness should offend, For I would say in language meek, Your soldier, Toby, and your friend. In your good cause I've fought like Hector,

And yet I'm but a Sergeant still ;

Your Majesty's my sole protector, Promote me by your royal will For indeed I am,

A right loyal man,

When engaged in the field,
Sooner die than yield;
In a night attack,
I've a happy knack,
For the way I'll explore,
Tho' the shot may pour,
Thus my claims I'd string,
When before the king.

O! CHARLEY DEAR.

To live at home,

And never roam,

To pass his days in sighing;
To wear sad looks,
Read stupid books,

And look half dead or dying:
Not show his face,

Nor join the chase,

But dwell a hermit alway:

Oh! Charley dear!

To me 'tis clear,

You're not the man for Galway!

O! Charley dear, &e

m

DE BANKS OB DE MISSISSIPPI.

WHEN de fish-worm walks up arter a

shower,

An' de moon on de river shine, Our tubs we'll bring, for dats de hour, To bob for eels quite fine'; Oh, den we darkies meet again, Án' walk de mud so slippy,

In de starry night when de eels do bite, On de banks ob de Mississippi.

On de banks ob de Missis-si-hi-hi-hi

hippi,

On de banks ob de Missis-sippy-hippy

hippy,

In de starry night when de eels do bite,
On de banks ob de Mississippi.

If care should darken Dinah's brow,
Like a cloud in a thunder shower,
I'll try de banjo's soovin cord,

An' sing ob de luscious hour;
When for a fry fast home we'll fly,
With a tub of eels so slippy,

In de starry night, when de eels do bite, On de banks ob de Mississippi.

On de banks, &c.