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When the trumpet of war the grand
blast was sounding, You marched to the north with good
will, To relieve the poor slaves in their vile
sack clothing, You used your exertion and skill. You spread out the wings of your envied
train, While tyrants great Cæsar's old nest set
in flames, Their own subjects they caused to eat
herbs on the plains, Are you goue--will I never see you
In great Waterloo, where numbers laid
meu was calling,
Are you gone-will I never see you
I'll roam through the deserts of wild
Abyssinia, And yet find no cure for my pain, Will I go and inquire in the isle of St.
Helena ? No, we will whisper in vain. Tell me, you critics, now tell me in time, The nation I will range my sweet linnet
to find, Was he slain at Waterloo, or Elba on
the Rhine ? If he was, I will never see him more.
W. J. FLORENCE.
In August last, on one fine day,
A bobbing around, around, around, When Josh and I went to make hay,
We went bobbing around.
A bobbing around, around, around, Then we can have a private talk,
As we go bobbing around. We walked along to the mountain ridge,
A bobbing around, around, around,
Till we got near Squire Slipshop's bridge,
As we went bobbing around. Then Josh and I went on a spree,
A bobbing around, around, around, And I kiss'd Josh, and Josh kiss'd me,
As we went bobbing around. Then Josh's pluck no longer tarried,
A bobbing around, around, around, Says he, Dear Patience, let's get married,
Then we'll go bobbing around.
Now I knew be loved another gal,
A bobbing around, around, around, They call'd her long-legg'd, crook’d-shir’d,
When he went bobbing around. So after we got into church,
A bobbing around, around, around, I cot and left Josh in the lurch,
Then he went bobbing around. Now all you chaps what's got a gal,
A bobbing around, around, around, Just think of long-legg'd, crook'd-sbind,
curly-tooth'd Sal, When you go bobbing around.
BEAUTIFUL ERIN. BEAUTIFUL Erin ! I leave thy shore,
For a home far over the sea ; But where Niagara's waters roar,
This heart still will beat for thee. In fancy I'll roam the mountain side,
Where the homes of my fathers stand ; And I'll sing amid the dark woods wide,
The songs of my own green land, I'll sing, I'll sing the songs of my own
I'll sing, I'll sing the songs of my own
Breaking the bough with weary toil,
In that land where plenty flows,
Where my native shamrock grows. Oh! beautiful Erin, then fare-thee-well,
Dear home of my childhood's hours ! No more 'mid thy fond bright scenes I
dwell, Farewell to thy fields and flowers, Farewell ! farewell ! farewell to thy fields
and flow'rs, Farewell I loved Erin, oh fare-thee-well,
AIR." Roy's Wite." CUPID to fulfil a duty,
Lately from Idalia passes ; Hovering o'er the isle of beauty, Gave the palm to Dublin lasses. .0, the dear delighting lasses, Who compare with Dublin lasses, Wit and beauty both combine,
And sweetly shine in Dublin lasses. Venus with a view to teaze him,
Sent him next to Mount Parnassus, De'il a damsel there could please him, Like our charming Dublin lasses.
O, the dear, delighting, etc. Love is theirs, best boon of nature,
Tendered by the kindred graces, Each endearing glance and feature Binds the heart to Dublin lasses.
0, the dear, delighting, etc. Music may have charms for many,
Others stiile care o'er glasses, My delight and boast is Fanny, Fairest of the Dublin lasses.
O, the dear, delighting, etc.