"Pooh! pry'thee, ne'er trouble thy head with | At midnight with streamers flying, The feast I proposed to you I cannot taste; For this night, by our order, is mark'd for a fast." Derry down, &c. Then, turning about to the hangman, he said: "Despatch me, I pray thee, this troublesome blade; For thy cord and my cord both equally tie; And we live by the gold for which other men die." Derry down, down, hey derry down. 49. Song. Admiral Hosier's Ghost. Our triumphant navy rode; Hideous yells and shrieks were heard: Which for winding-sheets they wore, Rising from their wat❜ry grave: You now triumph free from fears; You will mix your joys with tears. Who were once my sailors bold; "I, by twenty sail attended, Did the Spanish town affright; I had cast them with disdain; It was written by the ingenious author of Leonidas, But with twenty ships had done Of this gallant train had been. 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.This brave man, seeing his best officers and men thus daily swept away, his ships exposed to inevitable destruction, and himself made the sport of the enemy is said to have died of a broken heart. And her galleons leading home, “Unrepining at thy glory, Thy successful arms we hail; But remember our sad story, And let Hosier's wrongs prevail. Not in glorious battle slain. We recall our shameful doom, When your patriot friends you see, 50. Song. The Sea Fight in xc11.* The lofty sails of France advancing now; And you'll see That the battle will be soon begun. Tourville on the main triumphant roll'd, To meet the gallant Russel in combat on the deep; He led a noble train of heroes bold, To sink the English admiral and his fleet. Now every valiant mind to victory doth aspire, The bloody fight's begun, the sea itself on fire: *The great naval victory intended to be celebrated by this excellent old song was determined, after a running 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 ; Russel, afterwards Earl of Orford, over French Chorus. I love Sue, &c. Though Ralph is not courtly, nor none of your 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 carried upwards of a hundred guns, and was esteemed the finest vessel in Europe. This last fleet was fitted out for the purpose of restoring King James the Second to his dominions; and that prince, together with the Duke of Berwick, and severa! great officers both of his own court and of the court of France, and even Tourville himself, beheld the final destruction of the French ships from an eminence on the shore. It is now certain that Russel had engaged to favor the scheme of his old master's restoration, on condition that the French took care to avoid him; but Tourville's impetuosity and rashness rendered the whole measure abortive: and the distressed and ill-fated monarch retired in a fit of despondency, to mourn his misfortunes, and recover his peace of mind, amid the And none be so happy as Ralph and his Sue. solitary gloom of La Trappe. While thus I am able to work at my mill. While thus thou art kind, and thy tongue but lies still, Our joys shall continue and ever be new, Chorus. I love Sue, &c. $52. Song in Harlequin's Invasion. GARRICK. | The road to renown lies before ye! 'Tis Nature calls on you to save her; $53. Song in the same. GARRICK. 'THRICE happy the nation that Shakspeare has More happy the bosoms his genius has warm'd! His genius calls-you must obey. his From highest to lowest, from old to the young, Chorus. Come away, &c. To praise him ye Fairies and Genii repair, His genius calls-you must obey. 54. Song in the Country Girl. GARRICK. Let all whining lovers go hang; Tip your arrow with wit, ; And it comes to my heart with a twang, twang, I am rock to the handsome and pretty, The way to my heart's through my brain. We wits, you must know, Have two strings to our bow, To return them their darts with a twang, twang, § 55. Air in Cymon. GARRICK. You gave me last week a young linnet, Shut up in a fine golden cage; Yet how sad the poor thing was within it, Then he mop'd and he pin'd, 56. The Friar of Orders Gray. "Dispersed through Shakspeare's plays are innumerable little fragments of ancient ballads, the entire copies of which could not be recovered. Many of these being of the most beautiful and pathetic simplicity, the Editor was tempted to select some of them, and with a few supplemental stanzas to connect them together, and form them into a little tale. One small fragment was taken from Beaumont and Fletcher." IT was a friar of orders gray Walk'd forth to tell his beads; Clad in a pilgrim's weeds. "Now Christ thee saye, thou reverend friar, I pray thee tell to me, If ever at yon holy shrine, My true-love thou didst see?" That were so fair to view; Lady, he's dead and gone! And at his heels a stone. And 'plaining of her pride. And many a tear bedew'd his grave Within yon kirk-yard wall." "And art thou dead! thou gentle youth? "O weep not, lady, weep not so! Some ghostly comfort seek: My sorrow now reprove; "And now, alas! for thy sad loss. For thee I only wish'd to live, "Weep no more, lady, weep no more; For violets pluck'd, the sweetest show'rs "Our joys as winged dreams do fly, Why then should sorrow last? "O say not so, thou holy friar! I pray thee, say not so! For since my true-love died for me, 'Tis meet my tears should flow. "And will he never come again? Will he ne'er come again? Ah, no! he is dead, and laid in his grave, For ever to remain. "His cheek was redder than the rose; The comeliest youth was he. To one thing constant never. "Hadst thou been fond, he had been false, And left thee sad and heavy; For young men ever were fickle found, "Now say not thou holy friar, So, I pray thee, say not so! My love he had the truest heart; O he was ever true! All shall yield to the Mulberry tree, &c. Let Venus delight in her gay myrtle bowers, Pomona in fruit-trees, and Flora in flowers; The 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? Then farewell, home! for evermore A pilgrim I will be. "But first upon my true-love's grave My weary limbs I'll lay; And thrice I'll kiss the green-grass turf See, through the hawthorn blows the wind, "O stay me not, thou holy friar, And dry those pearly tears; Might I still hope to win thy love, "Now farewell grief, and welcome joy For since I've found thee, lovely youth, All shall yield to the Mulberry tree, &c. With learning and knowledge the well-letter'd birch [church; Supplies law and physic, and grace for the But law and the gospel in Shakspeare we find, And he gives the best physic for body and mind. All shall yield to the Mulberry tree, &c. The fame of the patron gives fame to the tree, From him and his merits this takes its degree; Let Phoebus and Bacchus their glories resign, Our tree shall surpass both the laurel and vine. All shall yield to the Mulberry tree, &c. The genius of Shakspeare outshines the bright More rapture than wine to the heart can con- Who planted thee, And thou, like him, immortal shalt be. 58. Song. Black-eyed Susan. GAY ALL in the Downs the fleet was moor'd, The streamers waving in the wind, When black-ey'd Susan came on board "O where shall I my true-love find? [by thee! Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true, $57. Shakspeare's Mulberry Tree. GARRICK. BEHOLD this fair goblet! 'twas carv'd from the tree, Which, O my sweet Shakspeare, was planted If my sweet William sails among your crew." William, who high upon the yard Rock'd by the billows to and fro, Soon as her well-known voice he heard, He sigh'd, and cast his eyes below; The cord glides swiftly through his glowing hands, And quick as lightning on the deck he stands. So the sweet lark, high pois'd in air, Shuts close his pinions to his breast, If chance his mate's shrill call he hear, And drops at once into her nest. The noblest captain in the British fleet Might envy William's lips those kisses sweet. "O Susan, Susan, lovely dear! My vows shall ever true remain; Let me kiss off that falling tear: We only part to meet again. Change as ye list, ye winds, my heart shall be The faithful compass that still points to thee. "Believe not what the landmen say, Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind: They'll tell thee, sailors, when away, At every port a mistress find. Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so, For thou art present wheresoe'er I go. "If to fair India's coast we sail, Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright; Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale, Thy skin is ivory so white. Thus every beauteous object that I view Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue. "Though battle calls me from thy arms, Let not my pretty Susan mourn; Though cannons roar, yet free from harms, William shall to his dear return: Love turns aside the balls that round me fly, Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye." The boatswain gives the dreadful word, They kiss'd; she sigh'd; he hung his head; Her less'ning boat unwilling rows to land; "Adieu!" she cries, and wav'd her lily hand. $59. Song. ROWE. As on a summer's day, "There's not a single swain Of all this fruitful plain, But with hopes and fears Now busily prepares The bonny boon to gain. "Shall another maiden shine In brighter array than thine? Up, up, dull swain, 1 Tune thy pipe once again, Is written in my heart, Than the nymphs of our green, Be content with this shade, ONE morning very early, one morning in the I heard a maid in Bedlam, who mournfully did Her chains she rattled on her hands, while sweetly thus sung she: [me. "I love my love, because I know my love loves "O cruel were his parents who sent my love to sea, [love from me! And cruel, cruel was the ship that bore my Yet I love his parents, since they're his, although they've ruin'd me, [loves me. And I love my love, because I know my love "O! should it please the pitying pow'rs to call me to the sky, [my love to fly; I'd claim a guardian angel's charge, around To guard him from all dangers, how happy [loves me. For I love my love, because I know my love "I'll make a strawy garland, I'll make it wondrous fine, should I be! With roses, lilies, daisies, I'll mix the eglantine, And I'll present it to my love, when he returns from sea; [loves me. For I love my love, because I know my love "O! if I were a little bird to build upon his breast, should be! [rest! Or if I were a nightingale to sing my love to To gaze upon his lovely eyes all my reward [loves me. For I love my love, because I know my love "O! if I were an eagle, to soar into the sky! I'd gaze around with piercing eyes where I my love might spy: But, ah! unhappy maiden! that love you ne'er shall see: [loves me Yet I love my love, because I know my love |