Each fond fairy image flies, Flies as fades the rapt'rous dream; All, but conscious mem'ry, diesLaura's beauty, and my flame! WILLY WAS A WANTON WAG. A favourite Scotch Song. WILLY was a wanton wag, The blythest lad that e'er I saw, At bridals still he bore the brag, And carried ay the glee away. His doublet was of Zetland shag, And vow! but Willy he was bra', And at his shoulder hung a tag, That pleas'd the lasses best of a'. He was a man without a clag, His heart was frank without a flaw; And ay whatever Willy said, It was still hadden as a law. When he went to the weapon shaw ; Upon the green nane durst him brag, The fiend a ane among them a'. And was not Willy well worth goud? He wan the luve of great and sma'; For after he the bride had kiss'd, He kiss'd the lasses halesale a'. Sae merrily round the ring they row'd, When by the hand he led them a’; And smack on smack on them bestow'd, By virtue of a standing law. And was na Willy a great lown, As shyre a lick as e'er was seen, When he danc'd with the lasses round, The bridegroom speer'd where he had been? Quoth Willy, I've been at the ring, With bobbing, faith, my shanks are sair; Gae ca' your bride and maidens in For Willy he dow do nae mair. Then rest ye, Willy, I'll go out, Bridegroom, he says, you'll spoil the dance, (O! Willy is a wanton wag:) THE GIPSIES. Sung By Mrs. Mills and Gipsies. Tune-Sir Roger de Coverly. WE Gipsies who live in the wood, It's because we don't know it by sight; But we do what we can, Each woman and each man, To be merry from morning till might. We know nothing of carding or spinning, Our caps, our aprons, and shirt, While housewives are fuming and fretting, And so make the most of our trade. If you eat'em as soon as they're laid. Peter stroll'd by the pigstye and dairy; Faith with two little pigs, And a pound of fresh butter for sauce. We promise you houses and lands, And plenty of husbands and wives; So you cross but with silver our hands, Ready money most commonly thrives. So thus without any toil, You give us one bird in the hand, For the future we care not a rush. PRETTY GOOD PRACTICE. Sung by Mr. Fawcet in Il Bondocani. When at school not a fool e'er was I, In hopes to be Cadi of Bagdat. And he made me a very fine master, Justice, we know, should be blind as wise, Yet to be partial I ever was loth, So my conscience to clear it a fact is, That when two sides wou'd bribe, I took money And thought it was pretty good practice. For when at school, &c. O LOVE THOU SOURCE OF JOY AND PAIN. ·Sung by Mr. Girton in the Disagreeable Surprise. O love! thou source of joy and pain, Ever teazing, The unwary passenger decoys, First 'cites his hopes, then damps his joys, OUR COUNTRY IS OUR SHIP, D'YE SEE. OUR country is our ship, d'ye see! A gallant vessel, too! And of his fortune proud is he, Who's of the Albion's crew. And lend a hand, As the common cause demands. Among ourselves, in peace, 'tis true, We fairly scold it out: But, once the enemy in view, -we soon are friends; Shake hands On the deck, 'Till a wreck, Each the common cause defends. 1 |