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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.

Make game

My master and the neighbours all

of me and Sally, And, but for her, I'd better be

A slave and row a galley ;
But when my seven long years are out

O then I 'll marry Sally,
O then we 'll wed, and then we 'll bed,
But not in our alley !

H. Carey

CXXXII

A FAREWELL

O fetch to me a pint o'wine,

a ;

That I may drink before I go

A service to my bonnie lassie ; The boat rocks at the pier of Leith,

Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry, The ship rides by the Berwick-law,

And I maun leave my bonnie Mary.

The trumpets sound, the banners fly,

The glittering spears are ranked ready; The shouts o' war are heard afar,

The battle closes thick and bloody; But it's not the roar o sea or shore

Wad make me langer wish to tarry ; Nor shouts o' war that's heard afarIt's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary.

R. Burns

CXXXIII

IF

F

Right soon I 'll mount my steed; And strong his arm, and fast his seat

That bears frae me the meed. I'll wear thy colours in my cap,

Thy picture at my heart;
And he that bends not to thine eye
Shall rue it to his smart !
Then tell me how to woo thee, Love;

O tell me how to woo thee !
For thy dear sake, nae care I 'll take

Tho' ne'er another trow me.

If gay attire delight thine eye

I'll dight me in array ;
I'll tend thy chamber door all night,

And squire thee all the day.
If sweetest sounds can win thine ear,

These sounds I 'll strive to catch;
Thy voice I 'll steal to woo thysell,

That voice that nane can match.

But if fond love thy heart can gain,

I never broke a vow;
Nae maiden lays her skaith to me,

I never loved but you.
For alone I ride the ring,

For you I wear the blue ;
For you alone I strive to sing,
O tell me how to woo !
Then tell me how to woo thee, Love;

O tell me how to woo thee !

you

For thy dear sake, nae care I 'll take,
Tho' ne'er another trow me.

Graham of Gartmore

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S

WEET stream, that winds through yonder glade,

Apt emblem of a virtuous maid
Silent and chaste she steals along,
Far from the world's gay busy throng:
With gentle yet prevailing force,
Intent upon her destined course;
Graceful and useful all she does,
Blessing and blest where'er she goes ;
Pure-bosom'd as that watery glass,
And Heaven reflected in her face.

W. Cowper

CXXXV

THE SLEEPING BEAUTY

SF

LEEP on, and dream of Heaven awhile

Tho' shut so close thy laughing eyes,
Thy rosy lips still wear a smile
And move, and breathe delicious sighs !

Ah, now soft blushes tinge her cheeks
And mantle o'er her neck of snow ;
Ah, now she murmurs, now she speaks
What most I wish — and fear to know !

She starts, she trembles, and she weeps !
Her fair hands folded on her breast :

- And now, how like a saint she sleeps ! A seraph in the realms of rest!

Sleep on secure! Above controul
Thy thoughts belong to Heaven and thee:
And may the secret of thy soul
Remain within its sanctuary !

S. Rogers

CXXXVI

OR ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove

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And when we meet a mutual heart
Come in between, and bid us part?

Bid us sigh on from day to day,
And wish and wish the soul away ;
Till youth and genial years are flown,
And all the life of life is gone?

But busy, busy still art thou,
To bind the loveless joyless vow,
The heart from pleasure to delude,
To join the gentle to the rude.

For once, O Fortune, hear my prayer,
And I absolve thy future care;
All other blessings I resign,
Make but the dear Amanda mine.

7. Thomson

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