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A SOUTHERLY WIND AND A CLOUDY

SKY.
A Southerly wind and a cloudy sky

Proclaim it a hunting morning,
Before the sun peeps we'll briskly fly,

Sleep and a downy bed scorning. Away, my boys, to borse, away;

The chase admits of no delay; Now on horseback we've got,

On horseback, on horseback together we'll trot, Together, together, away my brave boys, see the

coverts appear, The hound that strikes first, cheer him up with

out fear,
Drag him on, hoyke! wind him mysteady old hound,
Drag him on, hoyke! wind him the coverts resound.
How completely the coverts of furze they draw;

Who talks of Seotine to Minel,
Old Dasher now flourishes through the shaw,

Saucebox rose out of his kennel.
Away they fly as quick as thought,
The new sown ground soon made them fault;
Clap round the sheep stain, clap round, clap round!
Try back the deep plain, try back, try back!
Comfort bitch hits him off, through the tall speer-

ing hedge; Cragman, boy, leads him off through the new

made edge, Hark forward ! hark forward! bark forward !

brave boys! Hark forward ! hark forward ! zounds don't make

a noise.

Thus we ride whip spur for these four hours chase)

Till our horses so panting and sobbing, Old Dasher and Ringwood begin to race,

Ride on, and give them some mobbing. But hold, by Jove! you spoil the sport, For through the hounds you'll head them short. Hark! Drummer, hark, hark; hark, Tuner / bark

Tuner! Hawk! Drummer, hark, hark; hark, Tuner ! hark

Tuner! He's dodging and jumping at every bush, Old Vixen has fastened her tooth in his brush, Whoop, tear him, whoop, tear him ; he's fairly

run down, Whoop, tear him! whoop, tear him! give Joe his

half-crown.

THE CUCKOO. When daisies pied, and violets blue,

And ladies' smocks all silver white,
And cuckoo buds of yellow hue,

Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo, then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he-
Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, -oh, word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear.
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,

And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks and daws,

And maidens bleach their smocks,
The cuckoo then on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings hem

Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo,-oh, word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear.

HONEST TOM, The wind was hush'd, the fleecy wave Scarcely the vessel's side could lave, When in the mizen-top, his stand Tom Clueline taking, spied the land, Oh! sweet reward for all his toil; Once more he views his native soil, Once more he thanks indulgent fate, That brings him to his bonny Kate. Soft as the sighs of zephyr flow Tender and plaintive as her woe, Serene was the attentive eve That heard Tom's bonny Kitty grieve. Oh, what avails, cried she, my pain ? He's swallowed in the greedy main : Ah! never shall I welcome home, With tender joy, my honest Tom. Now high upon the faithful shroud The land awhile that seemed a cloud, While objects from the mist arise, A feast presents Tom's longing eyes. A ribband near his heart did lay, Now see him on his hat display, That given sign to show that fate Had brought him safe to bonny Kate. Near to a cliff whose heights command A prospect of the shelly strand, While Kitty fate and fortune blamed Sudden with joy she exclaimed,

“ But soe, O heavens: à ship in view,
My Tom appears among the crew;
The pledge appears to bring safe home,
Streams in his hat ; 'tis honest Tom.”

What now remains were easy told,
Tom comes, his pockets lined with gold ;
Now rich enough no more to roam,
To serve his king he stays at home:
Recounts bis toils, and shows each scar:
While Kitty and her constant tar,
With reverence teach to bless their fates,
Young honest Toms and bonny Kates,

FAR, FAR AT SEA. 'Twas night when the bell had toll'd twelve,

That poor Susan was laid on her pillow,
In her ear whispered some flitting elve-
Thy love now lies toss'd on a billow,

Far, far at sea.
All was dark, as she woke out of breath,

Not an object her fears could discover ;
All was still as the silence of death,
Save fancy, which painted her lover,

Far, far at sea.
So she whispered a prayer-clos'd her eyes,

But the phantom still haunted her pillow; Whilst in terror she echo'd his cries, As struggling he sunk on the billow,

Far, far at sea.

COMING THROUGH THE RYE.
Gin a body meet a body,

Comin' through the rye,
Gin a body kiss a body,

Need a body cry?
Ilka body has a body,

Ne'er a ane hae I;
But a'the lads they lo'e me weel,

And what the waur am I?
Gin a body meet a body

Comin' frae the well,
Gin a body kiss a body,
Need a body tell ?

Ilka body has a body, &c.
Gin a body meet a body

Comin' frae the toun,
Gin a body kiss a body,
Need a body frown?

Ilka Jenny has her Jockey, &c.

THE LAST GUINEA, In an old leathern purse a true friend I have got,

And of all friends the best is of any: By providence surely it fell to my lot,

A sight worth beholding by many; 'Tis the balm of distress, and the joy of my life,

And he that don't prize it's a ninny; In point of philosophy, next to a wife,

A blessing attend my last guinea. Jack Junk, an old messmate, arriv'd from on board,

With a hatful of these pretty shiners ;

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