The Tea-table Miscellany: A Collection of Choice Songs, Scots & English. In Two Volumes, Volume 2

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Page 143 - O dinna ye mind, young man," said she, "When ye was in the tavern a drinking, That ye made the healths gae round and round, And slighted Barbara Allan?" He turnd his face unto the wall, And death was with him dealing: "Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all, And be kind to Barbara Allan.
Page 236 - Since laws were made, for every degree, To curb vice in others, as well as in me, I wonder we ha'n't better company Upon Tyburn tree. But gold, from law, can take out the sting ; And if rich men, like us, were to swing, 'Twould thin the land, such numbers to string Upon Tyburn tree.
Page 21 - twas a pleasure too great ; I listen'd, and cried when she sung, Was nightingale ever so sweet ! How foolish was I to believe, She could dote on so lowly a clown, Or that her fond heart would not grieve To forsake the fine folk of the town ; To think that a beauty so gay So kind and so constant would prove, Or go clad, like our maidens, in...
Page 151 - Nor think him all thy own. To-morrow, in the church to wed, Impatient, both prepare ! But know, fond maid ; and know, false man, That Lucy will be there ! " Then bear my corse, my comrades, bear, This bridegroom blithe to meet, He in his wedding-trim so gay, I in my winding-sheet.
Page 150 - The solemn boding sound, And thus in dying words bespoke The virgins weeping round...
Page 7 - William, who high upon the yard, Rock'd with the billows to and fro. Soon as her well-known voice he heard, He sigh'd and cast his eyes below: The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands.
Page 58 - Away with your sheephooks, and take to your arms : Then laurels and myrtles your brows shall adorn, When Pan, and his son, and fair Syrinx return.
Page 14 - Of all the days that's in the week I dearly love but one day — And that's the day that comes betwixt A Saturday and Monday...
Page 75 - O'er my dim Eyes a Darkness hung; My Ears with hollow Murmurs rung. In dewy Damps my Limbs were chill'd; My Blood with gentle Horrors thrill'd; My feeble Pulse forgot to play, I fainted, sunk, and dy'd away.
Page 20 - Ghosts.* r \ESPAIRING beside a clear stream, A shepherd forsaken was laid ; And while a false nymph was his theme, A willow supported his head. The wind, that blew over the plain, To his sighs with a sigh did reply : And the brook, in return to his pain, Ran mournfully murmuring by.

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