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The Peasant.

HAIL the rosy smile of morning,
Welcomer of golden day,

That the teaming soil adorning,
From our task takes pain away.

Fresh to labour springs the peasant
From his honest lowly shed;
Toil still makes his slumber pleasant,
Idlers need the downy bed.

God Save the King.

GOD save great George our King,
Long live our noble King,
God save the king;

Send him victorious,

Happy and glorious,

Long to reign over us,

God save the King!

O Lord our God arise,
Scatter our enemies

And make them fall,

Confound their politics,
Frustrate their knavish tricks,
On him our hearts we fix,
O save us all!

Y

Thy choicest gifts in store
On him be pleased to pour,
Long may he reign!

May he defend our laws,
And ever give us cause

To sing with heart and voice
God save the King!

O grant him long to see
Friendship and unity
Always increase!

May his sceptre's sway,
All loyal souls obey,

Join beart and voice huzza!
God save the King!

"From ev'ry latent foe,
From the assassin's blow,
God save the King!

O'er him thine arm extend,

For Britain's sake defend

Our Father, Prince, and Friend,
God save the King!"

*The above additional stanza, (written originally in Ame
rica) was sung with reiterated applause at Drury-Lane
Theatre, on Thursday evening, May 15, 1800, after the at-
tempt was made on the life of his Majesty..

FINIS.

Thomas and Huusley, Printers, Doncaster,

INDEX.

Page

A BEGGAR I am, and of low degree.... 178

A boat danc'd on Clyde's bonny stream

A British soldier's my dad

A cobler liy'd at York

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Adown a green valley there liv'd an old maid
Adieu, adieu, my only life

A flaxen headed cow boy

A footman so dapper

...

Ah! tell me, ye swains, have you seen my
Aid a sailor, kind sir, who once felt it his...
A jolly face parson once happen'd to pop.
A lawyer quite famous for making a bill.
All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd
Alone to the banks of the dark rolling Danube
A pale forlorn outcast I wander alone
Arise, arise, Britannia's sons arise

98

226

57
38

6

114

142

228

36

59

171

61

54

...

65

69

132

73

195

16

168

224

109

A simple country milkmaid I came to town
As I went in, to-day, to a fruiterer's shop...
A traveller full forty year I have been
A young man came, I'll not tell where
A watchman am, I know all the rounds..
Behold poor Will just come from drill
Behold the man that is unlucky..
Believe me, believe me, in country and town
Bleak was the morn when William left his

....

Bright chanticleer proclaims the dawn
Bright dawns the day with rosy face

By my matches, ye maids, I have matches

Cease, rude Boreas, blust'ring railer

Come, damsal, why that sigh?

Come, jolly Bacchus, god of wine

Come listen to my story

Come rouse, brother sportsman, the hunters
Come neighbours, friends, and countrymen..
Contented I am, and contented I'll be
Daddy Neptune one day, to Freedom did say
Dear Tom, this brown jug, which now foams
Deep in a vale a cottage stood
Deserted by the waning moon ....
Dick Dock, a tar, at Greenwich moor'd
Don't I look spruce on my Neddy

Page

134

143

49

154

11

85

124

92

217

....

141

101

173

79

....

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Don't you see as how I'm a sportsman in stile
Ere around the huge oak that o'ershadows
Every mortal some favourite pleasure pursues
Fair Sally, once the village pride....
Fate, uncontroul'd by human pray'r
Fashion was form'd when the world began
Four and twenty perriwigs all on a row....
Four and twenty visitors ail on a row
From Spain, renoun'd in ancient

From the white blossom'd slow my dear Chloe
God save great George our King....
Go, patter to lubbers and swabs, d'ye see
Hail the rosy smile of morning.
Hark! from the trump of Fame..

Here am I with my phantasmagoria so bright
Here a sheer bulk lies poor Tom Bowling
How sweet are the flowers that grow by yon
How sweet in the woodlands

I be one of those sailors who think 'tis no lie

130

97

95

127

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I have parks I have grounds

I know by the smoke that so gracefully curl'd
I'll to court among all the nobility

I love you, cried Harry, so fond and so dearly
I'm call'd honest Ben but for what I don't
I'm Lary O'Lashem was born at Killarney
In a little blue garment all tatter'd and torn
In an age when each day teems with wonders
In good King Charles's golden days
In infancy our hopes and fears

In praise of his monarch for a Briton to sig
In the world's crooked path where I've been
In the downhill of life when I find I'm
In this world, so extensive how many, to eat
In storms, when clouds obscure the sky
I sail'd from the Downs in the Nancy

Page

58

162

172

184

34

192

198

183

25

140

12

24

56

231

76

103

I sing the British seaman's praise...

41

I've been told I'm the son of my father and
I was, d'ye see, a waterman

149

238

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Let Care be a stranger to each jovial soul

Let the Epicure boast the delight of his soul.

Life' like a ship in constant motion

Long time I've courted you, miss

Loud roar'd the British thunder
Loud roar'd the dreadful thunder
Love' a plague, by night and by day
Mr. Abraham Newland's a monstrous
My friend is the man I would copy through
My father was a farmer and father's son am I
My heart is as honest and brave as the best..
My lad's a braw and bonny lad............

28

201

191

43

....

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