THE LILY AND ZEPHYR. A DUET. Lo! when the showers descending Zephyr, lightly sweeping Lady of the May. TELL ME MY HEART. Tell me my heart, why morning prime, While the gay larks celestial chime, Ah! hapless maid, your love s away, Why Flora's beauties seem to blow, Some zephyr whispers in my ear, SHEEP SHEARING. Our skeep shearing over, surround the gay board, From that staple, the wool, all our consequence springs The woolsack is next to the throne; It a freedom secures both to peasants and kings, Which in no other country is known. It guards us awake, and preserves us asleep, When bleak piercing winter comes on with a frown, The doating old man, and the infant new born, Then how with the truth a fair pace can we keep, For it never forsakes us, nay, after we're dead, Nay more, if the sheep, while it ranges our fields, For our wants all these comforts supplies; Faithful still to the last, to the butcher it yields, And for daily nourishment-dies. Thus, living or dead, we its benefits reapThen ye sheep shearers, sing your true friend, the poor sheep. OUR SHIP IN PORT. Our ship in port, our anchor cast, The tempest hushed, and calmed the main, We little think of danger past, Nor that we ne'er may meet again; Though hard our toil, and peril great, But each fond moment past renew. And while the cheerful can, &c. NO JOY WITHOUT MY LOVE. Fly swift ye zephyrs, Who waft the sighs of love, Oh, say how I languish, What pain for her I prove. Fly swift, ye zephyrs, As fleet as fancy move, Oh, tell her o'er my mind My fondness all display. And if an ear she deign, POOR TOM. Then, farewell, my trim-built wherry, Shall poor Thomas take a spell. Some friendly ball will lay me low. Then mayhap, when homeward steering, With a sigh, may ery-poor Tom. LOVELY MARY. By that eye which eclipses the star's playful light, By those teeth which may rival the pearl's glossy white, By a shape Nature formed to distribute delight, Your Strephen is faithful, sweet Mary ; By that mind which to science the gods have in clined, By those wonderful talents which taste has refined, To the youth who adores lovely Mary! If a temper more smooth than the Po's glassy stream, United to cheerfulness, claims no esteem, Then all life is no more than a phantom or dream, But sure as existence is more than a dream, JUSTICE QUORUM. My name's Justice Quorum, I'm lord of this village, ing; I don't always hear both sides, which strange may appear, To those that don't know that I'm deaf of one ear. A man feed me once with a small bag of barley, His opponent brought six beautiful geese to parley: Goosey carried the cause, when the chandler offended, Cried, I gave you some barley, and on you depended; |