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“Pooh! pry'thee, ne'er trouble thy head with | At midnight with streamers flying,
such fancies;

Our triumphant navy rode;
Rely on the aid you shall have from St. Francis : There, while Vernon sate all-glorious
If the money you promised be brought to the From the Spaniards' late defeat,

And his crews, with shouts victorious,
You have only to die; let the church do the rest. Drank success to England's fleet;
Derry down, &c.

On a sudden, shrilly sounding,
" And what will folks say if they see you afraid ? Hideous yells and shrieks were heard:
It reflects upon me, as I knew not my trade : Then, each heart with fear confounding,
Courage, friend! to-day is your period of sorrow: A sad troop of ghosts appear'd;
And things will go better, believe me, to-mor- All in dreary hammocks shrouded,

Which for winding-sheets they wore,
Derry down, &c.

And, with looks by sorrow clouded,
To-morrow ?" our hero replied in a fright;

Frowning on that hostile shore. “ He that 's hang'd before noon ought to think On them gleam'd the moon's wan lustre ; of to-night."

When the shade of Hosier brave
“ Tell your beads,” says the priest, “and be His pale bands were seen to muster,
fairly truss'd up;

Rising from their wat’ry grave:
For you surely to-night shall in Paradise sup." O'er the glimmering wave he hied him,
Derry down, &c.

Where the Burford rear'd her sail,
Alas !" quoth the squire, “howe'er sumptu- With three thousand ghosts beside him,
ous the treat,

And in groans did Vernon hail. Parbleu! I shall have little stomach to eat :

“ Heed, O heed, our fatal story! I should therefore esteem it great favor and I am Hosier's injur'd ghost; grace,

You, who now have purchas'd glory Would you be so kind as to go in my place.” At this place where I was lost : Derry down, &c.

Though in Porto-Bello's ruin “That I would,” quoth the father, "and thank You now triumph free from fears; you to boot;

When you think of my undoing, But our actions, you know, with our duty You will mix your joys with tears. must suit :

“See these mournful spectres sweeping The feast I proposed to you I cannot taste; For this night, by our order, is mark'd for a Whose wan cheeks are staind with weeping;

Ghastly o'er this hated wave,

These were English captains brave.
Derry down, &c.

Mark those numbers, pale and horrid,
Then, turning about to the hangman, he said : Who were once my sailors bold;
“Despatch me, I pray thee, this troublesome Lo! each hangs his drooping forehead,

While his dismal tale is told.
For thy cord and my cord both equally tie;
And we live by the gold for which other men

“ I, by twenty sail attended,

Did the Spanish town affright; die." Derry down, down, hey derry down.

Nothing then its wealth defended,

But my orders not to fight.

O'! that in this rolling ocean 49. Song. Admiral Hosier's Ghost.

I had cast them with disdain ;

And obey'd my heart's warm motion
It was written by the ingenious author of Leonidas,

To have quell’d the pride of Spain! on the taking of Porto-Bello from the Spaniards by Admiral Vernon, Nov. 22d, 1739.—The case of Ho- “ For resistance I could fear none, sier, which is here so pathetically represented, was briefly this: In April, 1726, that commander was

But with twenty ships had done sent with a strong fleet to the West Indies, to block What thoy, brave and happy Vernon, up the galleons in the ports of that country; or, Hast achiev'd with six alone. should they presume to come out, to seize and carry Then the Bastimentos never them to England: he accordingly arrived at the Bastimentos, near Porto-Bello, but, being restricted

Had our foul dishonor seen, by his orders from obeying the dictates of his cour-Nor the sea the sad receiver age, lay inactive on that station until he became

Of this gallant train had been. the jest of the Spaniards : he afterwards removed to Carthagena, and continued cruising in these seas “ Thus like thee, proud Spain dismaying, till the far greater part of his men perished deplorably by the diseases of that unhealthy climate.

And her galleons leading home, This brave man, seeing his best officers and men Though, condem'd for disobeying, thus daily swept away, his ships exposed to inevi I had met a traitor's doom: table destruction, and himself made the sport of the To have fallen, my country crying, enemy is said to have died of a broken heart.

• He has play'd an English part,' As near Porto-Bello lying

Had been better far than dying On the gently-swelling flood.

Of a griev'd and broken heart.


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“ Unrepining at thy glory,

And mighty Fate stood looking on; Thy successful arms we hail;

Whilst a flood, But remember our sad story,

All of blood, And let Hosier's wrongs prevail.

Fillid the scuppers of the Royal Sun! Sent in this foul clime to languish,

Sulphur, smoke, and fire, disturbing the air, Think what thousands fell in vain,

With thunder and wonder affright the GalWasted with disease and anguish,

lic shore; Not in glorious battle slain.

Their regulated bands stood trembling near, Hence, with all my train attending

To see the lofty streamers now no more.

At six o'clock the Red the smiling victors led, From their oozy tombs below,

To give a second blow, the fatal overthrow; Through the hoary foam' ascending,

Now death and horror equal reign ; Here I feel my constant woe:

Now they cry, Here, the Bastimentos viewing,

Run or die, We recall our shameful doom,

British colors ride the vanquish'd main! And, our plaintive cries renewing, Wander through the midnight gloom. See, they fly amaz'd o'er rocks and sands!

One danger they grasp at to shun the great“O'er the waves, for ever mourning,

er fate; Shall we roam depriv'd of rest,

In vain they cry for aid to weeping lands; If, to Britain's shores returning,

The nymphs and sea-gods mourn their lost You neglect my just request :

estate! After this proud foe subduing,

For evermore adieu, thou Royal dazzling Sun, When your patriot friends you see,

From thy untimely end thy master's fate beguni Think on vengeance for my ruin,

Enough, thou mighty god of war! And for England-sham'd in me.”

Now we sing,

Bless the king, $ 50. Song. The Sea Fight in XC11.*

Let us drink to every English tar. THURSDAY in the morn, the ides of May,

$51. Song. The Miller's Wedding. GARRICK. Recorded for ever the famous ninety-two, Brave Russel did discern, by dawn of day,

LEAVE, neighbors, your work, and to sport The lofty sails of France advancing now;

and to play; All hands aloft, aloft, let English valor shine, No day through the year shall more cheerful

Let the tabor strike up, and the village be gay: Let fly a culverin, the signal for the line; {

be seen ; Let every hand

pply his gun; Follow me,

For Ralph of the Mill marries Sue of the Green.

And you'll see
That the battle will be soon begun.

I love Sue, and Sue loves me,

And while the wind blows, Tourville on the main triumphant rollid,

And while the mill goes, To meet the gallant Russel in combat on

Who'll be so happy, so happy as we? the deep; He led a noble train of heroes bold,

Let lords and fine folks, who for wealth take a To sink the English admiral and his fleet. bride, Now every valiant mind to victory doth aspire, Be married to-day, and to-morrow be cloy'd : The bloody fight's begun, the sea itself on fire: My body is stout, and my heart is as sound;

And my love, like my courage, will never give * The great naval victory intended to be celebrated ground. by this excellent old song was determined, after a run Chorus. I love Sue, &c. ning action of several days, off Cape La Hogue, on the coast of Normandy, the 22d of May, 1692, in favor Let ladies of fashion the best jointures wed, of the English and Dutch combined fleets, consisting And prudently take the best bidders to bed : of 99 sail of the line, under the command of Admiral Such signing and sealing's no part of our bliss ; squadron

of about half that number, commanded by We settle our hearts, and we seal with a kiss. the Chevalier Tourville, whose ship Le Soleil Royal Chorus. I love Sue, &c. carried upwards of a hundred guns, and was esteem

Though Ralph is not courtly, nor none of your ed the finest vessel in Europe. This last fleet was fitted out for the purpose of restoring King James the beaux,

(clothes, Second to his dominions; and that prince, together Nor bounces, nor flatters, nor wears your tine with the Duke of Berwick, and severa! great officers In nothing he'll follow the folks of high life, even Tourville himself, beheld the final destruction Nor e'er turn his back on his friend or his wife. of the French ships from an eminence on the shore. Chorus. I love Sue, &c. It is now certain that Russel had engaged to favor the While thus I am able to work at my mill. scheme of his old master's restoration, on condition that the French took care to avoid him; but Tour- While thus thou art kind, and thy tongue but ville's impetuosity and rashness rendered the whole

lies still, measure abortive: and the distressed and ill-fated Our joys shall continue and ever be new, misfortunes, and recover his peace of mind,

amid tho And none be so happy as Ralph and his Sue. solitary gloom of La Trappe.

Chorus. I love Sue, &c.

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$ 52. Song in Harlequin's Invasion. GARRICK. | Ø 56. The Friar of Orders Gray. To arms! ye brave mortals, to arms :

“ Dispersed through Shakspeare's plays are innumer

able little fragments of ancient ballads, the entire The road to renown lies before ye!

copies of which could not be recovered. Many of The name of King Shakspeare has charms these being of the most beautiful and pathetic simTo rouse you to actions of glory.

plicity, the Editor was tempted to select some of

them, and with a few supplemental stanzas to conAway! ye brave mortals, away!

nect them together, and form them into a little tale.

One small fragment was taken from Beaumont and 'Tis Nature calls on you to save her ;

Fletcher." What man but would Nature obey,

It was a friar of orders gray And fight for her Shakspeare for ever!

Walk'd forth to tell his beads;

And he met with a lady fair, 0 53. Song in the same. GARRICK.

Clad in a pilgrim's weeds. THRICE happy the nation that Shakspeare has

“ Now Christ thee saye, thou reverend friar, charmà ! More happy the bosoms his genius has warm’da!

I pray thee tell to me, Ye children of nature, of fashion, and whim,

If ever at yon holy shrine, He painted you all, all join to praise him.

My true-love thou didst see ?" Chorus. Come away! come away!

“ And how should I know your true-love His genius calls—you must obey. From many another one ?"

"O, by his cockle hat and staff, From highest to lowest, from old to the young,

And by his sandal shoon :
All states and conditions by him have been sung;
All passions and humors were rais'd by his pen;

“ But chiefly by his face and mien, He could soar with the eagle, and sink with

That were so fair to view; the wren.

His flaxen locks, that sweetly curld, Chorus. Come away, &c.

And eyne of lovely blue.” To praise him ye Fairies and Genii repair,

“O lady, he is dead and gone! He knew where ye haunted, in earth or in air:

Lady, he's dead and gone!
No phantom so subtile could glide from his view, And at his head a green-grass turf,

And at his heels a stone.
The wings of his fancy were swifter than you.
Chorus. Come away! come away! “ Within these holy cloisters long
His genius calls--you must obey. He languish'd, and he died,

Lamenting of a lady's love,
0 54. Song in the Country Girl. GARRICK. And 'plaining of her pride.
TELL not me of the roses and lilies

“Here bore him, bare-faced on his bier, Which tinge the fair cheek of your Phyllis ;

Six proper youths and tall; Tell not me of the dimples and eyes

And many a tear bedew'd his grave
For which silly Corydon dies ;

Within yon kirk-yard wall."
Let all whining lovers go hang ;
My heart would you hit,

" And art thou dead! thou gentle youth? Tip your arrow with wit,

And art thou dead and gone ? And it comes to my heart with a twang, twang, And didst thou die for love of me? And it comes to my heart with a twang.

Break, cruel heart of stone !" I am rock to the handsome and pretty,

“O weep not, lady, weep not so ! Can only be touch'd by the witty ;

Some ghostly comfort seek : And beauty will ogle in vain :

Let not vain sorrow rive thy heart, The way to my heart's through my brain.

Nor tears bedew thy cheek.". Let all whining lovers go hang :

" O do not, do not, holy friar, We wits, you must know,

My sorrow now reprove;
Have two strings to our bow,

For í have lost the sweetest youth
To return them their darts with a twang, twang, That e'er won lady's love.
To return them their darts with a twang.

“And now, alas ! for thy sad loss,

I'll ever weep and sigh; 0 55. Air in Cymon. GARRICK.

For thee I only wish'd to live,
You gave me last week a young linnet,

For thee I wish to die."
Shut up in a fine golden cage;
Yet how sad the poor thing was within it,

“Weep no more, lady, weep no more ; O how it did flutter and rage !

Thy sorrow is in' vain :
Then he mop'd and he pin'd,

For violets pluck'd, the sweetest show'rs
That his wings were confin'd,

Will ne'er make grow again. Till I opend the door of his den:

“Our joys as winged dreams do fly, Then so merry was he;

Why then should sorrow last ?
And, because he was free,

Since grief but aggravates thy loss,
He came to his cage back again.

Grieve not for what is past.”.

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“O say not so, thou holy friar!

As a relic I kiss it, and bow at thy shrine, I pray thee, say not so!

What comes from thy hand must be ever divine ! For since my true-love died for me,

All shall yield to the Mulberry tree; 'Tis meet my tears should flow.

Bend to thee, " And will he never come again ?

Bless’d Mulberry! Will he ne'er come again ?

Matchless was he Ah, no! he is dead, and laid in his grave,

Who planted thee, For ever to remain.

And thou, like him, immortal shalt be. “ His cheek was redder than the rose;

Ye trees of the forest, so rampant and high, The comeliest youth was he.

Who spread round your branches, whose heads But he is dead, and laid in his grave,

sweep the sky;

[here Alas! and woe is me !"

Ye curious exotics, whom taste has brought

To root out the natives at prices so dear; “Sigh no more, lady, sigh no more,

All shall yield to the Mulberry tree, &c. Men were deceivers ever; One foot on sea, and one on land,

The oak is held royal, is Britain's great boast, To one thing constant never.

Preserv'd once our king, and will always our “ Hadst thou been fond, he had been false,


[that fight, And left thee sad and heavy;

But of fir we make ships, we have thousands For young men ever were fickle found, While one, only one, like our Shakspeare can Since summer trees were leafy.


All shall yield to the Mulberry tree, &c. “Now say not so, thou holy friar, I pray thee, say not so!

Let Venus delight in her gay myrtle bowers, My love he had the truest heart;

Pomona in fruit-trees, and Flora in flowers; O he was ever true!

T'he garden of Shakspeare all fancies will suit, “And art thou dead, thou much-lov'd youth? With the sweetest of flowers, and fairest of fruit. And didst thou die for me?

All shall yield to the Mulberry tree, &c. Then farewell, home! for evermore

With learning and knowledge the well-letter'd A pilgrim I will be.


(church; “But first upon my true-love's grave Supplies law and physic, and grace for the My weary limbs I'll lay;,

But law and the gospel in Shakspeare we find, And thrice I'll kiss the green-grass turf And he gives the best physic for body and mind. That wraps his breathless clay."

All shall yield to the Mulberry tree, &c. “Yet stay, fair lady, stay awhile

The fame of the patron gives fame to the tree, Beneath this cloister wall :

From him and his merits this takes its degree; See, through the hawthorn blows the wind,

Let Phæbus and Bacchus their glories resign, And drizzly rain doth fall."

Our tree shall surpass both the laurel and vine. O stay me not, thou holy friar,

All shall yield to the Mulberry tree, &c. O stay me not, I pray! No drizzly rain that falls on me

The genius of Shakspeare outshines the bright Can wash my fault away.”



More rapture than wine to the heart can con“ Yet stay, fair lady, turn again,

So the tree that he planted, by making his own, And dry those pearly tears ;

Has laurel, and bays, and the vine, all in one. For see, beneath this gown of gray,

All shall yield to the Mulberry tree,

&c. Thy own true-love appears!

Then each take a relic of this hallow'd tree; “ Here, forced by grief and hopeless love,

From folly and fashion a charm let it be : These holy weeds I sought : And here, amidst these lonely walls,

Fill, fill to the planter the cup to the brim;.

To honor the country, do honor to him. To end my days I thought;

All shall yield to the Mulberry tree; “ But haply, for my year of grace

Bend to thee, Is not yet pass'd away,

Bless’d Mulberry! Might I still hope to win thy love,

Matchless was he No longer would I stay.”.

Who planted thee, “Now farewell grief, and welcome joy

And thou, like him, immortal shalt be. Once more unto my heart; For since I've found thee, lovely youth,

Ø 58. Song. Black-eyed Susan. GAY We never more will part."

All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd,

The streamers waving in the wind, 8 57. Shakspeare's Mulberry Tree. GARRICK. When black-ey'd Susan came on board BEHOLD this fair goblet! 'twas carv'd from “O where shall I my true-love find ? the tree,

[by thee! Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true, Which, O my sweet Shakspeare, was planted'If my sweet William sails among your crew."

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William, who high upon the yard

“ There's not a single swain Rock’d by the billows to and fro,

Of all this fruitful plain, Soon as her well-known voice he heard,

But with hopes and fears He sigh’d, and cast his eyes below;

Now busily prepares The cord glides swiftly through his glowing The bonny boon to gain.

“ Shall another maiden shine And quick as lightning on the deck he stands.

In brighter array than thine ? So the sweet lark, high pois'd in air,

Up, up, dull swain, Shuts close his pinions to his breast,

| Tune thy pipe once again, If chance his mate's shrill call he hear,

And make the garland mine.” And drops at once into her nest.

“ Alas! my love," I cried, The noblest captain in the British fleet

“What avails this courtly pride ? Might envy William's lips those kisses sweet.

Since thy dear desert

Is written in my heart, O Susan, Susan, lovely dear!

What is all the world beside ? My vows shall ever true remain;

“ To me thou art more gay, Let me kiss off that falling tear :

In this homely russet gray, We only part to meet again.

Than the nymphs of our green, Change as ye list, ye winds, my heart shall be

So trim and so sheen, The faithful compass that still points to thee.

Or the brightest queen of May. “ Believe not what the landmen say,

“What though my fortune frown, Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind : And deny thee a silken gown ; They'll tell thee, sailors, when away,

My own dear maid, At every port a mistress find.

Be content with this shade, Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so,

And a shepherd all thy own." For thou art present wheresoe'er I go.

$ 60. Song. “ If to fair India's coast we sail,

One morning very early, one morning in the Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright;


(sing; Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale,

I heard a maid in Bedlam, who mournfully did Thy skin is ivory so white.

Her chains she rattled on her hands, while Thus every beauteous object that I view Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sué. "I love my love, because I know my love loves

sweetly thus sung she:

(me. “ Though battle calls me from thy arms,

“O cruel were his parents who sent my love Let not my pretty Susan mourn;

[love from me! Though cannons roar, yet free from harms, And cruel, cruel was the ship that bore my William shall to his dear return :

Yet I love his parents, since they're his, although Love turns aside the balls that round me fly,

they've ruin'd me,

[loves me. Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's And I love my love, because I know my love eye."

"O! should it please the pitying pow'rs to call The boatswain gives the dreadful word,

me to the sky, (my love to fly; The sails their swelling bosoms spread; I'd claim a guardian angel's charge, around No longer must she stay on board : To guard him from all dangers, how happy They kiss'd; she sighd; he hung his head; should I be!

[loves me. Her less'ning boat unwilling rows to land; For I love my love, because I know my love “Adieu !" she cries, and wav'd her lily hand.

“ I'll make a strawy garland, I'll make it won$ 59. Song. Rowe.

drous fine,

With roses, lilies, daisies, I'll mix the eglantine, As on a summer's day, In the greenwood shade I lay,

And I'll present it to my love, when he returns

[loves me. The maid that I lov'd, As her fancy mov'd,

For I love my love, because I know my love Came walking forth that way.

“O! if I were a little bird to build upon his breast,

[rest! And as she passed by,

Or if I were a nightingale to sing my love to With a scornful glance of her eye, “What a shame," quoth she,

To gaze upon his lovely eyes all my reward should be !

[loves me. " For a swain must it be,

For I love my love, because I know my love Like a lazy loon for to lie !

“O! if I were an eagle, to soar into the sky! And dost thou nothing heed

I'd gaze around with piercing eyes where I may What Pan our god has decreed,

love might spy : What a prize to-day

But, ah! unhappy maiden ! that love you ne'er Shall be given away

shall see:

[loves me To the sweetest shepherd's reed ? Yet I love my love, because I know my love

to sea,

from sea ;

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