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Again, at our door, in the morning of spring,
To see the Sun rise, and hear goldfinches sing!
To rouse our companions, and maids of the May,
In copses to gambol, in meadows to play.
Or, at questions and forfeits, all rang'd on the grass;
Or to gather fresh chaplets, each lad for his lass;
To sing, and to dance, and to sport on the plain,
Thy Jack shall return to his Gracey again.

Or alone, in his Gracey's sweet company bless'd,
To feed thy young robins that chirp on the nest;
To help at her med cines, and herbs for the poor,
And welcome the stranger that stops at the door.
At night, o'er our fire, and a cup of clear ale,
To hear the town-news, and the traveller's tale;
To smile away life, till our heads they grow hoar,
And part from my sheep, and my Gracey no more.

AIR VIII. TUNE-Dremondoo.

Now he has left me, what care shall employ, What object afford me the shadow of joy? To a heart so o'erladen, all sorrows are meet; Misfortune is welcome, and mourning is sweet!

Away, ye companions of daily delight,
And pastimes that gently could steal on the night;
Away, ye fond sports of the wake and the fair!
Your pleasures are vanish'd--no brother is there!

Of the ball, and the hurling, the dance, and the

race,

His skill was the victor, his person the grace:
The maidens throng'd round him, delighted to see,
And wish'd they had all been his sisters, like me.

Thus, ev'ry dear scene of my former delight,
To my mind will recall him, but not to my sight;
The trees will all droop, and the meadows look lone;
And all say-poor maid! thy companion is gone!

AIR IX.

TUNE-Grana Weil.

THOUGH passions contend, and afflictions storm,
And shake the frail state of the human form;
If virtue the base of our pile sustain,
Afflictions shall rage and assault in vain.

The paths for the steps of all mortals made,
Is simply to follow where truth shall lead:
Nor thou from its rectitude turn aside;
The rest, let hereafter and Heaven provide.

AIR VII.

TUNE-Lochaber.

FAREWELL to my Gracey, my Gracey so sweet,
How painful to part!-but again we shall meet,
Thy Jack, he will languish, and long for the day
That shall kiss the dear tears of his sister away.
Though honour, in groves of tall laurel, should
grow;

And fortune, in tides, should eternally flow;
Nor honour, nor fortune, thy Jack shall detain,
But he'll come to his Gracey, his sister again.

AIR X.

TUNE-I have sixpence under my thumb. How sweet the gossiping birds that sing! How sweet the treasure the zephyrs bring, Light wafted on each odorif'rous wing That winnows the breast of flowery spring!

How sweet the showers with balm replete! The fawns that frolic, and lambs that bleat! But O! above all, though all should meet, Our Justice, our queen of sweets is sweet!

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Here's humility in high station!
Dignity strip'd of ostentation!
Friendship, here, outgoes profession;
Here is pow'r, without oppression!

Oh, the finest show!

Who 'll see honesty in a miser?
Fops, from France, return the wiser?
Wealthy poets, and poor receivers ?
Lawyers in future rewards believers?

Oh, the curious show!

Here's dependance, without servility;
Peers, to virtue who owe nobility;
Next, where piety weds with prelacy:
But you scarce will credit, till you see,

Such a wondrous show!

AIR XXI.

TUNE-Poddreen mare.

COME all you gay gallants, for pleasure who prowl! Come all you young racers, who strain for the goal! Come all you stout wrestlers, who strive on the

plain !

[main! Come all you fond merchants, who trade on the Come all, who expend your short candle, in quest Of phantoms, still follow'd, but still unpossess'd! In vain you search, wander, strain, struggle, and steer!

The prize you all wrestl'd, and run for, lay here.

[Two trifling airs omitted here.]

AIR XXIV.

TUNE-My father and mother sent me far.

FOR lo! her wealth all spent on want,
Where Charity's reclin'd!
The moving tale of wretchedness
Still rolling in her mind.
Her sighs and tears are still a fund
Of bounty to distress;

And she delights to share the woe
She can no more redress.

AIR XXV.

TUNE-My dog and my gun.

ON what a firm rock here does fortitude fix!
Around him, in war, all the elements mix!
The hurricane rages! the tempest it boils!
Loud thunders are lanch'd at his head-and he
smiles!

AIR XXVI.

TUNE-Æneas wandering prince of Troy.

HUMILITY, her crown aside,

Here stoops to wash the feet of Pride.
Averse from all the world calls great,
She fain would fall, and sink from state!
But sink or fall, howe'er she will,
She finds the world beneath her still

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AIR XXVII.

TUNE-Past one o'clock.

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First learn the skill your tongue to still;

And leave the name and honest frame of others free.

A race, who are prouder

To spend their sweet powder

At balls, than on bullets,-a terrible train
Of crimp petit-maitres,

Nice seamsters and plaiters,

Beau'd out, for the dance of a dainty campaign!

AIR XXX.

TUNE-Ye fairy elves that be.

COME follow, follow me,
You jolly boys all, who be
Divested of constraint,

From mortify'd saw, or saint!
To pleasure and boundless licence free,
Come follow, follow, follow me!
Come all to measureless licence free,
And follow, follow, follow me!

Let lean-ey'd honesty bear

His merited weight of care;
And phlegm and conscience dwell
In cynical tub, or cell;

Your tittle-tattle, prate and prattle-rake and rattle, But all ye lovers of game and glée,

all

Due victims to this pearl must fall.

Your joys in toys, of folly, fops, and noise,

That, noon and night, the toy-shop of your heart

employs;

The side-long glance, and kindling dance, Minc'd mien, and conscious eye;

[show;

With foibles which, you know, in shame I spare to A price, I fear, too high.

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And feast and frolic, come follow me! To Nature's measureless licence free, Come follow, follow, follow me!

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