FILL, FILL! Poetry by George Soane, A.B.; Music from Flotow's Opera of Stradella.-Published by Davidson. Allegretto. O! where are you going, sweet Robin? What makes you so proud and TH so shy? I once saw the day, little Robin, My friend ship you would not deny. But win-ter a-gain is return-ing, And wea-ther both storm-y and snell: 'Gin ye will come back to me, Ro-bin, I'll feed you with mou lins my sel'. O! where are you going, sweet Robin! What makes you so proud and so shy? I once saw the HUSH'D BE SORROW'S SIGH. Poetry by Leman Rede; to Irish Melody, Moore's 'Norah Creina.'-Published by Davidson. Allegretto. bliss with weeping? Waves will roll between us soon; Morns will rise, and we shall greet not; Re-serve your tears till eve has flown, And let us weep, love, when we meet not. Come, take the cup! our only tears Must be the ruby tears of pleasure; These few last moments are as yearsWe cannot lose in woe the treasure! Now let ev'ry thought of bliss Here in rich communion meet, love! Perchance we take a last long kiss, O! let that dear last kiss be sweet, love! Waves will roll, &c. O! let our parting hour be such A brilliant moment of delight, love,That rapture could not add a touch Of joy, to make the hour more bright, love That when, afar, we dream again On pleasure fled or bliss departed, O! COME WITH ME,-I'LL ROW THEE O'ER. Allegretto. O! come with me,-I'll row thee o'er Yon blue and peace-ful sea; And, while I gen-tly while I gently ply the oar, renew my vows to vows to thee, renew re new my vows, my vows to thee! MAIDENS, WOULD YOU KNOW. Poetry by George Soane, A.B.; the Music from Flotow's Opera of Stradella.-Published by Davidson. Maidens, would you know the value of a lover's Go and dear - est oath, ask. Old Time the prophet, He will tell you, nothing loth. Youths who worship at the altar Of some dear, lov'd, peerless fair, Age, that still must heap up treasure, Seek Time in his church-yard dwelling ;- Age and youth, and maiden too ;- MONEY IS YOUR FRIEND. Of friendship I have heard much talk, But you'll find in the end, That, if dis-tress'd, at any rate, Then mo - ney is your friend. Yes, mo- ney is your friend- is it not? Yes, money is your friend- is it not? not? is it not? Pray, tell me now, Yes, money, mo-ney, money is your friend! If you are sick and like to die, And for the doctor send, To him you must advance a fee ;- Yes, money is your friend, &c. If you should have a suit at law, You must pay the lawyer for his brief;- Then money is your friend. Yes, money is your friend, &c. Then let me have but store of gold, From ills it will defend ; In ev'ry exigence of life, Dear money is your friend! Yes, money is your friend, &c. "TWILL NEBBER DO TO GIB IT UP SO. Negro Melody-Published in Davidson's Cheap and Uniform Edition of the Songs of Henry Russell. From a tiny Nig grown up a lad, I look about what trade to be had: Hatter, tailor, can't advance, So I set up at once to teach de dance; To figger in and figger out so; Yet it nebber do to gib it up so, Nigger boy,- I dance as light as old bear's cub, Wid de handsom'st critter ebber was seen ;Her hair is red, her eyes am green, And dat it wur dat make me lub her so; Though she keep contin'ell answer me 'No,' It would nebber do to gib her up so, Nigger boy,It would nebber do to gib her up so. Now I've fifteen little Nigs complete, And what's berry strange, ebery one o' 'em can eat: Day and night I dance, I toil, And all to make de pot to boil; For it's money makes de mare to go, And de little tings must lib, you know; So it nebber do to gib it up so, Nigger boy, No, it nebber do to gib it up so. I'm happy man wid happy wife, To gib any ting up I say is obsurd, And as to can't, I don't know de word; All can manage if to work dey go ; Labour hard, and nebber gib it up so, Nigger boy,No, nebber, nebber gib it up so. |