Again, at our door, in the morning of spring, Or alone, in his Gracey's sweet company bless'd, AIR VIII. TUNE-Dremondoo. Now he has left me, what care shall employ, What object afford me the shadow of joy? To a heart so o'erladen, all sorrows are meet; Misfortune is welcome, and mourning is sweet! Away, ye companions of daily delight, Of the ball, and the hurling, the dance, and the race, His skill was the victor, his person the grace: Thus, ev'ry dear scene of my former delight, AIR IX. TUNE-Grana Weil. THOUGH passions contend, and afflictions storm, The paths for the steps of all mortals made, AIR VII. TUNE-Lochaber. FAREWELL to my Gracey, my Gracey so sweet, And fortune, in tides, should eternally flow; AIR X. TUNE-I have sixpence under my thumb. How sweet the gossiping birds that sing! How sweet the treasure the zephyrs bring, Light wafted on each odorif'rous wing That winnows the breast of flowery spring! How sweet the showers with balm replete! The fawns that frolic, and lambs that bleat! But O! above all, though all should meet, Our Justice, our queen of sweets is sweet! Here's humility in high station! Oh, the finest show! Who 'll see honesty in a miser? Oh, the curious show! Here's dependance, without servility; Such a wondrous show! AIR XXI. TUNE-Poddreen mare. COME all you gay gallants, for pleasure who prowl! Come all you young racers, who strain for the goal! Come all you stout wrestlers, who strive on the plain ! [main! Come all you fond merchants, who trade on the Come all, who expend your short candle, in quest Of phantoms, still follow'd, but still unpossess'd! In vain you search, wander, strain, struggle, and steer! The prize you all wrestl'd, and run for, lay here. [Two trifling airs omitted here.] AIR XXIV. TUNE-My father and mother sent me far. FOR lo! her wealth all spent on want, And she delights to share the woe AIR XXV. TUNE-My dog and my gun. ON what a firm rock here does fortitude fix! AIR XXVI. TUNE-Æneas wandering prince of Troy. HUMILITY, her crown aside, Here stoops to wash the feet of Pride. Ff 434 AIR XXVII. TUNE-Past one o'clock. First learn the skill your tongue to still; And leave the name and honest frame of others free. A race, who are prouder To spend their sweet powder At balls, than on bullets,-a terrible train Nice seamsters and plaiters, Beau'd out, for the dance of a dainty campaign! AIR XXX. TUNE-Ye fairy elves that be. COME follow, follow me, From mortify'd saw, or saint! Let lean-ey'd honesty bear His merited weight of care; Your tittle-tattle, prate and prattle-rake and rattle, But all ye lovers of game and glée, all Due victims to this pearl must fall. Your joys in toys, of folly, fops, and noise, That, noon and night, the toy-shop of your heart employs; The side-long glance, and kindling dance, Minc'd mien, and conscious eye; [show; With foibles which, you know, in shame I spare to A price, I fear, too high. And feast and frolic, come follow me! To Nature's measureless licence free, Come follow, follow, follow me! |