My meester vork'd me zoorly;
I didn't valee that,

Although he groombled all the day,
Whatever I woor at,

Sae long as I could go into

The woods, amang the deer;

Oh, 'twas ma delight, in a zhiny night,
In the zeazon o' the

year.

Oh, 'twas ma delight, &c.

But when ma meester wanted me
To voork by candel light;
I look-ed up unto the moon,

And zhe zhone vera bright;

Zo I zhow'd un a vine pair of heels,

Without a bit of fear

Oh, 'twas ma delight, in a zhiny night,
Ín the zeazon o' the year.

Oh, 'twas ma delight, &c.

I zhow'd un a vair pair of heels,

And to the alehouse went,
And there a' met zome jolly boys,
On powching they were bent.

They zwore me wan amongst them then,
All vor a pot of beer-

Oh, 'twas ma delight, in a zhiny night,

In the zeazon o' the year.

Oh, 'twas ma delight, &c.

Noo 'tis I can vire a long un,

And a zhort un I can zell,

And zometimes zend a haunch unto

A vriend in town az well;

A' poozles all the joostices,

And makes the parzons zwear;

Oh, 'twas ma delight, in a zhiny night,

In the zeazon o' the year.

Oh, 'twas ma delight, &c.

As me and ma coomrades
Were zetting on a snare,

Lauks! the geamkeepoors carm oop to us,
For them we did no care,

Case we could fight, and wrestle, lads,
Jump over ony where-

Oh, 'twas ma delight, on a zhiny night,
In the zeazon of the year.

Oh, 'twas ma delight, &c.

Az me and ma coomerads
Were zetting vour or vive,
And toaking on 'em oop agean,
We cotch'd a heere alive;
We putten into the bag, ma boys,
And through the wood did steer,
Oh, 'twas ma delight, in a zhiny night,
In the zeazon o' the year.

Oh, 'twas ma delight, &c.

We popt un in the bag, ma boys,
An wandered off vor town:
We took un to a neighbour's hosse,
And we zold un vor a crown;
We zold un vor a crown, ma boys,
But I did not tell ye where;

Oh, 'twas ma delight, in a zhiny night,
In the zeazon of the year.

Oh, 'twas ma delight, &c.

Then here's success to powching,

For I does think it vair

And here's look to ere a gentleman

Az wants to buy a heere; Bad look to ere a gamekeepoor

Az woona zell his deere.

Oh, 'twas ma delight, in a zhiny night,

In the zeazon o' the year.

Oh, 'twas ma delight, &c.

MORAL.

Vhat made me vond of powching vurst,
If you vould wish to hear,

It vos because a vound that beef

And mutton were zo deer.

While I gets geame and wenzon cheap-
Which iz a reazon clear.

Oh, 'twas ma delight, in a zhiny night,
In the zeazon o' the year.

Oh, 'twas ma delight, &c.

THE PEOPLE WHO STAND ON THE

ALBERT SMITH.]

STAIRS.

Tune-"Goldminer's Song,"
H. RUSSELL.

FUNNILY, freely, progress now the revelries;
Cheerily, merrily, each one's engaged;
Flirting's at par, and against all blue devilries
Rigorous warfare is constantly waged;

While they are dancing, while bright eyes are glancing,

And light hearts forgetting the world and its cares ; Let us for a minute quit the room and those in it, And peep at the people who stand on the stairs!

Where is Kate Dalrymple! flirting of course she is!

Charley Fitzgerald is standing close by;

Soft are her whispers and full of remorse she is
If we may judge her expression of eye!

Mr. Slowman, who says waltzing makes his head giddy;

Young Woffles, the poet, who gives himself airs; Dr. Box and Kate Dalrymple's brother, the middy, Are found 'mongst the people who stand on the stairs!

Jawkins is there with a circle around him,

To whom he is telling his usual lies;

"Derby stop in through the session ?-confound him! He has not a chance-he wont take my advice !" There is Tom Honeyman, known as "that funny

man,"

Who the loudest of shirt-studs and coral studs

wears,

Who is laughing and chaffing, and bitter beer quaff

ing,

Being always at supper when not on the stairs!

Thus they go on with their fun and frivolity,
Cheerily, merrily passing the night;
Music and liquor are each first in quality,
Hands are enlacing, and eyes flashing bright!
Wearily, drearily breaks forth the sun again,
Jaded and faded are daughters and mères;
While the only regret at not having the fun again,
Is expressed by those people who stood on the
stairs!

THE ARCHERY MEETING.

T. H. BAYLY.]

[Music by GEORGE LINLEY.

THE archery meeting is fixed for the third;
The fuss that it causes is truly absurd;

I've bought summer bonnets for Rosa and Bess,
And now I must buy each an archery dress!
Without a green suit they would blush to be seen,
And poor little Rosa looks horrid in green!

Poor fat little Rosa! she's shooting all day!
She sends forth an arrow expertly they say;
But 'tis terrible when with exertion she warms,
And she seems to be getting such muscular arms;
And if she should hit, 'twere as well if she miss'd,
Prize bracelets could never be clasp'd on her wrist!

Dear Bess with her elegant figure and face,
Looks quite a Diana, the queen of the place;
But as for the shooting-she never takes aim ;
She talks so, and laughs so! the beaux are to blame :
She dotes on flirtation-but oh! by-the-by,

'Twas awkward her shooting out Mrs. Flint's eye!

They've made my poor husband an archer elect ;
He dresses the part with prodigious effect;
A pair of nankeens, with a belt round his waist,
And a quiver of course in which arrows are placed ;
And a bow in his hand-oh! he looks of all things
Like a corpulent Cupid bereft of his wings!

They dance on the lawn, and we mothers, alas !
Must sit on camp stools with our feet in the grass;
My Flora and Bessy no partners attract !
The Archery men are all cross Beaux in fact !
Among the young ladies some hits there may be,
But still at my elbow two misses I see!

UP IN THE MORNING EARLY.
[PETER BUCHAN.]

UP in the morning, up in the morning,
Up in the morning early;

Frae night till morn our squires they sat,
An' drank the juice o' the barley.
Some they spent but ae hauf-crown,
And some six crowns sae rarely;
In the alewife's pouch the siller did clink,
She got in the morning early.

Up in the morning early, &c.

I hae got fou, Beldornie cried;
Wardess replied, I am fou tee;
Then said Darlicha, Beware o' a fa,
An' haud by the wa' as I dee.
Up in the morning early, &c.