THE BANKS OF BANNA. As down on Banna's banks Ì stray'd, The little birds with sweetest notes, They sung their tender tales of love, They sung them o'er and o'er, Ah! grammachree, ma cholleenouge, The daisy pied, and all the sweets, Ah! grammachree, &c. I laid me down upon a bank, Bewailing my sad fate; That doomed me thus the slave of love, And cruelly Molly's hate; How can she break the honest heart That wears her in its core ? Ah! grammachree, &c. You said you loved me, Mary, dear, Yet who would think such tender words, O had I all the flocks that graze, Or lowed for me the num'rous herds, Ah! grammachree, &c Two turtle doves above my head, Such fondness once for me she showed, alas 'tis o'er, But now, Ah! grammachree, &c. Then fare thee well, my Molly dear, Though thou art false, may heaven on thee, Its choicest blessing pour. THE BAY OF BISCAY, O! LouD roared the dreadful thunder, There she lay, In the Bay of Biscay, O! Now dash'd upon the billow, None stop the dreadful leak! To cling to slipp'ry shrouds, Each breathless seaman crowds, As she lay, 'Till the day, In the Bay of Biscay, O! At length the wish'd for morrow Broke through the hazy sky,Absorb'd in silent sorrow, Each heav'd a bitter sigh; The dismal wreck to view, Struck horror to the crew; As she lay, On that day, In the Bay of Biscay, O! Her yielding timbers sever, We hail her with three cheers ; From the Bay of Biscay, O! THE DE'IL CAME FIDDLING THRO THE THE de'il came fiddling thro' the town, We'll dance, and sing, and rejoice man; And monie thanks to the muckle black de'il, That danc'd awa wi' the exciseman. There's threesome reels, and foursome reels, There's hornpipes, and strathspeys, man; But the ae best dance e'er came to our lan,' Was the de'il's awa wi' the excise man. We'll mak our maut, and brew our drink, We'll dance, and sing, and rejoice man; And monie thanks to the muckle black de'il, That dane'd awa wi' the exciseman THE WASHING DAY AIR.-There's nae luck about the house THE sky with clouds was overcast, My wife she whipped the children, Oh! the deuce a bit of comfort's hero |