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'O came ye by yon water-side ?

Pou'd you the rose or lily ?
Or came you by yon meadow green,

Or saw you my sweet Willie?'

She sought him up, she sought him down,

She sought him braid and narrow;
Syne, in the cleaving of a craig,
She found him drown'd in Yarrow !





"OLL for the Brave !

The brave that are no more!
All sunk beneath the wave
Fast by their native shore !

Eight hundred of the brave
Whose courage well was tried,
Had made the vessel heel
And laid her on her side.

A land-breeze shook the shrouds

And she was overset;
Down went the Royal George,
With all her crew complete.

Toll for the brave !
Brave Kempenfelt is gone;
His last sea-fight is fought,
His work of glory done.

It was not in the battle ;
No tempest gave the shock;
She sprang no fatal leak,
She ran upon no rock.

His sword was in its sheath,
His fingers held the pen,
When Kempenfelt went down
With twice four hundred men.

Weigh the vessel up
Once dreaded by our foes !
And mingle with our cup
The tear that England owes.

Her timbers yet are sound,
And she may float again
Full charged with England's thunder,
And plough the distant main :

But Kempenfelt is gone,
His victories are o'er ;
And he and his eight hundred
Shall plough the wave no more.

W. Cowper



LL in the Downs the fleet was moor’d,

The streamers waving in the wind,
When black-eyed Susan came aboard ;

'O! where shall I my true-love find ? Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true If my sweet William sails among the crew.'

William, who high upon the yard

Rock'd with the billow to and fro, Soon as her well-known voice he heard

He sigh’d, and cast his eyes below: The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands, And quick as lightning on the deck he stands.

So the sweet lark, high poised in air,

Shuts close his pinions to his breast
If chance his mate's shrill call he hear,

And drops at once into her nest :-
The noblest captain in the British fleet
Might envy William's lip those kisses sweet.

'O Susan, Susan, lovely dear,

My vows shall ever true remain ;
Let me kiss off that falling tear ;

We only part to meet again.
Change as ye list, ye winds; my heart shall be
The faithful compass that still points to thee.

* Believe not what the landmen say

Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind :
They 'll tell thee, sailors, when away,

In every port a mistress find :
Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so,
For Thou art present wheresoe'er I go.

“If to fair India's coast we sail,

Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright,
Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale,

Thy skin is ivory so white.
Thus every beauteous object that I view
Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue.

'Though battle call me from thy arms

Let not my pretty Susan mourn; Though cannons roar, yet safe from harms

William shall to his Dear return. Love turns aside the balls that round me fly, Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye.'

The boatswain gave the dreadful word,

The sails their swelling bosom spread ; No longer must she stay aboard ;

They kiss’d, she sigh’d, he hung his head. Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land; • Adieu !' she cries; and waved her lily hand.

7. Gay


F all the girls that are so smart

O ;

She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley. There is no lady in the land

Is half so sweet as Sally; She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

Her father he makes cabbage-nets

And through the streets does cry 'em ;
Her mother she sells laces long

To such as please to buy 'em :
But sure such folks could ne'er beget

So sweet a girl as Sally!
She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

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When she is by, I leave my work,

I love her so sincerely ;
My master comes like any Turk,

And bangs me most severely –
But let him bang his bellyful,

I'll bear it all for Sally; She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

Of all the days that 's in the week

I dearly love but one day
And that 's the day that comes betwixt

A Saturday and Monday ;
For then I'm drest all in my best

To walk abroad with Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

My master carries me to church,

And often am I blamed
Because I leave him in the lurch

As soon as text is named ;
I leave the church in sermon-time

And slink away to Sally ;
She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

When Christmas comes about again,

O then I shall have money ; I'll hoard it up, and box it all,

I'll give it to my honey :
I would it were ten thousand pound,

I'd give it all to Sally ;
She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

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