English

Poor, fond deluded heart! wilt thou again
Listen, enchanted, to the syren song
Of treacherous Pleasure? Ah, deceived too long,
Cease now at length to throb with wishes vain!
Ah, cease her paths bewildering to explore!
Betrayed so oft! yet recollect the woe
Which waits on disappointment; taught to know
By sad experience, wilt thou not give o'er
To rest, deluded, on the fickle wing
Which Fancy lends thee in her airy flight,
But to seduce thee to some giddy height,
And leave thee there a poor forsaken thing.

The cherry trees bend over and are shedding
On the old road where all that passed are dead,
Their petals, strewing the grass as for a wedding
This early May morn when there is none to wed.

Cheer up, my young men all,
Let nothing fright you;
Though oft objections rise,
Let it delight you.

Let not your fancy move
Whene'er it comes to trial;
Nor let your courage fail
At the first denial.

I sat down by my love,
Thinking that I woo'd her;
I sat down by my love,
But sure not to delude her.

But when I got to speak,
My tongue it doth so quiver,
I dare not speak my mind,
Whenever I am with her.

Love, here's a ring of gold,
'T is long that I have kept it,

A CHEER and salute for the Admiral, and here's to the Captain bold,
And never forget the Commodore's debt when the deeds of might are told!
They stand to the deck through the battle's wreck when the great shells roar and screech —
And never they fear when the foe is near to practise what they preach:
But off with your hat and three times three for Columbia's true-blue sons,
The men below who batter the foe — the men behind the guns!

II

Oh, light and merry of heart are they when they swing into port once more,

Chattering Swallow, what shall we,
Shall we do to punish thee?
Shall we clip thy wings, or cut
Tereus like thy shrill tongue out?
Who Rodantha driv'st away
From my dreams, by break of day.

for RBS

1.

Chaste, pious, prudent Charles the Second,
The miracle of thy restoration
May like to that of quails be reckoned,
Rained on the Israelitish nation;
The wished-for blessing which Heaven sent
Became their curse and punishment.

2.

The virtues in thee, Charles, inherent
(Although thy countenance be an odd piece)

DIALOGUE.

Cha. W. W.

Charon ! Thou Slave! Thou Fool! Thou Cavaleer! Cha.
A Slave, a Fool, What Traitors voice I Hear? W.
Come bring thy Boat. Ch. No Sir. W. No sirrah why? Cha.
The Blest will disagree, and Fiends will mutiny
At thy, at thy, unnumbred Treachery. W.
Villain, I have a Pass, which who disdains,
I will sequester the Elizian plains. Cha.
Woes me! Ye gentle shades! where shall I dwell?
He's come! It is not safe to be in Hell.

1

Charlottie liv'd on a mountain top in a bleak and lonely spot,
There were no other dwellings there except her father's cot.
And yet, on many a wintry night, young swains were gathered there;
Her father kept a social board and she was very fair.

2

On a New Year's Eve as the sun went down, far looked her wishful eye
Out from the frosty window pane as a merry sleigh dashed by.
At a village fifteen miles away was to be a ball that night,
And though the air was piercing cold her heart was warm and light.

3

Charlie MacPherson, that braw Hieland lad[die],
On Valentine's even cam doun to Kinaltie,
Courtit Burd Hellen, baith wakin an sleepin:
" Oh, fair fa them has my love in keepin!"

Charlie MacPherson cam doun the dykeside,
Baith Milton an Muirton an a' bein his guide;
Baith Milton an Muirton an auld Water Nairn,
A' gaed wi him, for to be his warn.

Whan he cam to the hoose o Kinaltie,
" Open your yetts, mistress, an lat us come in!
Open your yetts, mistress, an lat us come in!