My horse is weary of his stall, I hate to learn the ebb of time, ONE BUMPER AT PARTING. f T. Moore. ONE bumper at parting-though many Remains to be crown'd by us yet. As onward we journey, how pleasant Those few sunny spots, like the present, That 'mid the dull wilderness smile! But Time, like a pityless master, arts IT Than when his way lies among flowers, But come May our life's happy measure? Be all of such moments made up; They're born on the bosom of pleasure, They die,midst the tears of the cup. This eyening, we saw the sun sinking A T In waters his glory made bright And oh! may our life's happy measure MY MORN OF LIFE. My morn of life, how gay, how blest, I dearly lov'd my little cot, Nought could my state improve, Felicity was Edward's lot, For I had Mary's love, Each morning with the lark I rose, Is gentle Mary's love, lui bus serof PLEDGE ME BRIM TO BRIM. TIME was, thy locks were brown, friend Johny Full many a wrang we've suffer'd, John, And sic like days o' sorrow, John, W wish na mair to see. Then here's a fig for snarling Time, Come, prime the cup, my gude auld friend, And pledge me brim to brim. The simmer of our lives is past, But, John, we'll niver sigh; We've friendship left enough to warm And when that day shall come, friend John, But think on a' the gude we've done, And could na make it mair. Then here's a fig, &c. OH! DO NOT GIVE WAY TO THE SHADOWS OF CARE. OH! do not give way to the shadows of care, They will darken the dawn of our happiest hours; Count the flow'rs which strew'd in your path, but beware How you reckon the thorns which are under the flow'rs. The thorns which you tread on may wound you to day, But to morrow may offer some balm to the wound ; And think not when sunshine enlivens your way, That embryo tempests are gathering round. Then look forward like me I will never despond, Till your lips shall have cancell'd our mutual vow There's a tranquil futurity smiling beyond The light clouds that appear to encircle us now; Tho' the mists of the morning the skies may obscure, Tho' the sun for a while may with storms be o'ercast, Yet at noon he'll shine forth, more majestic and pure, From the transient eclipse he, unsullied, has past. THEY MOURN ME DEAD IN MY FATHER'S HALL. THEY mourn me dead in my father's hall The black banner waves on the tow'r ; Ah! maiden, cease those pearly tears, For a penitent knight returns to thine arms, The harp shall sound in my father's hall, And the village bells, greeting my glad return, Then, maiden, cease those pearly tears, For a penitent knight, returns to thine arms, MORALITY ON THE FORETOP. Two real tars, whom duty call'd Dibdin. Thus one another over-haul'd, "I say, Will Hatchway," cried Tom Tow, As through the voyage of life you go, To bring you safe to port ?" Cried Jack, "You chap, why don't you know, Our passions close to reef, To steer where honour points the prow, To hand a friend relief: These anchors get but in your power, My life for't that's your sort; The sheet, my boy, and the best bower Shall bring you up in port." "Why then, you're out, and there's and end," Tom cried out blunt and rough; "Be good, be honest, serve a friend, Who wipes his eye at other's woe "Let storms of life upon me press, Why, dang it, what's my own distress? Aye, aye, if bound with a fresh gale THE SAILOR'S CONSOLATION. ONE night it blew a hurricane, Dibdin. The sea was mountains rolling, When Barney Buntling turn'd his quid, "A strong north-west is blowing, Bill, Ah! don't you hear it roar now? Lord, help us, how I pity all Unhappy folks a-shore now. "You see how many folks are out "Fool hardy chaps that live in town, For fear their roofs should fall in. Whilst you and I, lash'd on the deck, What bricks, what tiles, what chimney-pots! Ꭰ |