There was a fat man of Bombay,
Who was smoking one sunshiny day,
When a bird, called a snipe,
Flew away with his pipe,
Which vexed the fat man of Bombay.

Shady grove, my true love,
Shady grove I know,
Shady grove, my true love,
I'm bound for the shady grove.

Peaches in the summertime,
Apples in the fall,
If I can't get the girl I love,
Won't have none at all.

Once I was a little boy,
Playin' in the sand,
Now I am a great big boy,
I think myself a man.

When I wus a little boy,
I wanted a whittlin' knife;
Now I am a great big boy
An' I want a little wife.

Wish I had a banjo string,
Made of golden twine,
And every tune I'd pick on it—

Wilt thou listen, O God! to my prayer;
Unto thee for relief will I cry.
Lead my heart, overwhelmed with despair,
To the Rock that is higher than I.

O, thou Refuge for all the oppressed,
Thy praises, O Lord, I will sing:
Thou art ever my shelter of rest;
I will trust in the shade of thy wing.

For my prayer, O my God, thou wilt hear,
And a blessed inheritance give
To those who shall serve thee with fear,
And in holy obedience live.

Oh, fare you well, I wish you well!
Good-bye, fare you well; good-bye, fare you well!
Oh, fare you well, my bonny young lassies,
Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound!

The billows roll, the breezes blow,
To us they're calling: sheet home and go!

We're homeward bound, and I hear the sound,
So heave on the caps'n and make it spin round.

Our anchor's aweigh and our sails they are set,
And the girls we are leaving we leave with regret.

She's a flash clipper packet and bound for to go,
Good-bye, fare you well; good-bye, fare you well!

Winter time is coming
you can hear that howling wind
Winter time is coming
I can hear that howling wind
You better get ready
loving summer's done gone in

Old Jack Frost is now ready
to put that thing on you
Old Jack Frost is now ready to
put that thing on you
If you don't stop him
that'll be a howdy-do

Cold wave make me shiver
cold wave get my goat
Cold wave make me shiver
cold wave get my goat
I feel so disgusted:
ain't got no overcoat

Shoes ain't got no bottom
feets pattin' on the ground
Shoes ain't got no bottom

Tenn thousand miles away from home
And I don't even know my name,
For thinkin' about the woman I love,
Ran away with another man.

I went down to the old depot,
The trains were a-passin' by;
Looked through the bars, saw the woman I love,
And I hung my head and cried.

Standing on the street corner,
And the girl I loved passed by;
She shrugged her shoulder and passed me by,
And I tucked my head and cried.

Loosed from Winter's prison
When Spring comes forth,
In the morning
The white dew falls;
In the evening
The mists trail:
And in the valley of Hatsu-se
Beneath the twigs of the trees
The nightingale sings.

A great many gentlemen take great delight
In hunting bold Reynard the fox.
At Ashbittle copse I did lay,
An extraordinary rate I did live
In picking the bones of the fat geese and ducks
Till the farmers they all did me hate.

Oh for the lord's hounds did descend,
The huntsman swore I should die.
I left little brother behind,
They love little lambs better than I.

Oh through the lord's park they did run me,
The gamekeeper shot at my thigh.
I beg your pardon, huntsman and hounds,
From this bloody wound I must die.

1. Hail to the Queen who reigns above, Mother of
2. We from this wretched vale of tears Send sighs and
clemency and love, Hail Thou our hope, life,
groans unto thy ears; Oh! then, sweet Advo-
sweetness; we, Eve's banished children, cry to Thee.
cate, bestow A pitying look on us below.

3. After this exile let us see
Our blessed Jesus, born of Thee;
O merciful, O pious Maid,
O gracious Mary, lend thine aid.

Each year when the vile bugs come round
To feast on my potatoes,
I let them taste the Paris green,
I give it to them gratis.

They eat it, sicken, and they die;
Death stops them in their mission:
'Tis just what every bug deserves
That eats without permission.