Merrily, merrily fuddle thy nose,

Until it right rosy shall be:

For a jolly red nose, I speak under the rose,
Is a sign of good company.

I'LL LOVE BUT THEE, MY NATIVE HOME.

Music-at Messrs. Monro and May's.

My native home now far from thee,
Thy peaceful shade, how I regret
Those tranquil haunts so dear to me!
I never, never can forget.

No! tho' through distant lands I roam,
I'll love but thee; I'll love but thee.
No! tho' through distant lands I roam, &c.
My native home, &c.

Reflecting oft on scenes so bright,

Where early life I joyous past;
If lost for ever to my sight,

In mem❜ry's mirror shall they last.
Yes! though far brighter days may come,

Ill love but thee; I'll love but thee.

Yes! tho' far brighter days may come, &c.

My native home, &c.

PEACE AND HEALTH TO THEE, TOM MOORE.

My boat is on the shore,

And my bark is on the sea;

But, ere I go, Tom Moore,

Here's a double health to thee.

Here's a sigh for those I love,

And a smile for those I hate;

And, whatever sky's above,
Here's a heart for any fate.

Though the ocean roars around me,
It still shall bear me on:

Though a desert should surround me
It hath springs that may be won.

Were it the last drop in the well,
As I gasped on the brink,
Ere my fainting spirits fell,

"Tis to thee that I would drink.

In that water, as this wine,
The libation I would pour,

Should be-Peace to thee and thine,
And a health to thee Tom Moore.

THE FIRST OFFER OF MARRIAGE.
Music-at Messrs. Monro and May's.

MAMMA, do come here for a moment;
Such fun, oh! I surely shall die.
The Major's just gone, and what think ye,
All the morning did nothing but sigh.
Oh! he is such a dear fellow,

And you know has plenty of gold;
Besides he has made me an offer,

But I wish he was not quite so old.
Oh! dear me, I'm quite in a hurry;
Where's papa, Henrietta, and Rose?
They'll scarcely believe when I tell them
The Major came here to propose.

But now, dear mamma, just consider
How very delightful 'twill be;
The clothes and the jewels he'll give me,
And the sights he will take me to see.
To-morrow, at half-past eleven,

He will come, let it snow, hail, or rain,
When he's promised to bring me a present,
A beautiful gold watch and chain.
Oh dear, &c.

There's Lord Henry Grey, and Sir Edward,
How highly annoyed they will feel;
For now I've accepted the Major,

They'll sometimes come short of a meal.
Think how often you've given a dinner,
A soiree, a supper, and ball,
And after so many expenses,

They have given us a short morning call.
Oh dear, &c.
really can't think how I've caught him,
What a fortunate girl I must be;
But I made up my mind I would have him
The first time he came here to tea.
Do you know I had nearly forgotten,

Dear mamma, what you told me to say, About ten thousand pounds he must settle On me, on my wedding day.

Oh dear, &c. Now, mamma, pray do order the carriage, Indeed I must go for a drive;

I'm determined to call on the Gordons,

The Melvilles, the Foleys, and Clives, And then we'll come back to dinner, And afterwards go to the play,

Where, perhaps, we shall meet the dear Major, So finish this fortunate day.

Oh dear, &c.

I NEVER BELIEVE WHAT I HEAR.
Music at Lonsdale's.

My dear Lady Mary, you begg'd me to call,
And tell you the news of the day;
So, as I've been chatting with good Mrs. Hall,
I thought I'd step over the way.

She always has plenty of stories to tell,
But one, alas! grieves me, my dear;

For I know both the parties exceedingly well-
But never believe what I hear.

You know Captain Douglas, who married Miss And who seem'd so devoted and true;- [Brown, Well, they quarrell'd the moment they got out of For he found out his wife was a Blue. [town, So he turn'd out a flirt, and, I'm sorry to add,

Mrs. Douglas grew jealous, my dear;

And her temper, they say, is so shockingly badBut I never believe what I hear.

She told me besides that Lord Archibald Grey
Is to marry his cousin at last;

'Tis a very bad match-for I'm sorry to say
That for years he's been living too fast.

To pay off his debts, his estates must be sold

He once had ten thousand a year;

But the Jews were too sharp for his Lordship, I'm

But I never believe what I hear.

"Tis a very sad business (if true), this affair Betwixt Emily Bland and Lord John;

[told,

I thought she was brought up too well, I declare,
To elope with a poor younger son.

So prudent she seem'd, so retir'd and demure,
Mothers call'd her a pattern, my dear:

After all, to elope with Lord John, to be sure-
But I never believe what I hear.

Oh, could you have thought it, that gay Lady Ann,

Is a good sober wife after all?—

But then she has married a sensible man,

Who wont let her go to a ball.

They say he's a very superior mind,

Though some think his notions are queer;

And I've heard it just whisper'd he's not very kindBut I never believe what I hear.

Yet, between you and I, dear, I wish Mrs. Hall
Had not such a scandalous tongue,

For, amidst her old friends, there's not one, after all,
Whose praise she e'er willingly sung.

But yet I confess that I love a good chat,

'Tis so very amusing, my dear;—

Though 'tis scandal and gossip, what signifies that?→ For I never believe what I hear

THE MODEL.

Music-at Messrs. Coventry and Hollier's, 71, Dean
Street, Soho.

My friend is the man I would copy through life,
He harbours no envy, he causes no strife;
No murmurs escape him though fortune bears hard,
Content is his portion, and peace his reward.

Still happy in his station,
He minds his occupation,
Nor heeds the snares,
Nor knows the cares,

Which vice and folly bring;

Daily working wearily,

Nightly singing cheerily,

[king.

Dear to him his wife, his home, his country and his

His heart is enlarged, though his income is scant, He lessens his little for others that want; [press, Though his children's dear claims on his industry He has something to spare for the child of distress. He seeks no idle squabble,

He joins no thoughtless rabble;

To clear his way,

From day to day,

His honest views extend;

When he speaks 'tis verily,

When he smiles 'tis merrily;

[friend.

Dear to him his sport, his toil, his honour, and his

How charming to find in his humble retreat,

That bliss so much sought, so unknown to the great!
The wife only anxious, her fondness to prove,
The playful endearments of infantine love.