Allegretto.

REMEMBER, LOVE, REMEMBER.

Composed by Parke.

'Twas ten o' - clock

one moon-light night, I ever shall re mem-ber, When

ev'ry star shone twink-ling bright In fros - ty dark De cem-ber, When

at the win-dow, tap, tap, tap, I heard a cer-tain well-known rap, And with it

these

words most clear, 'Re-mem-ber, Ten o'clock, my dear; re- mem-ber, love,

My mother doz'd before the fire,
My dad his pipe was smoking,
I dare not for the world retire,-
Now, was not that provoking?
At length, the old folks fast asleep,
I flew my promis'd word to keep;
And sure, his absence to denote,
He on the window-shutter wrote,-
'Remember, love, remember!'

re-mem-ber.'

And did I heed a treat so sweet?

O! yes, for mark the warning,
Which said, 'At church we were to meet
At ten o'clock next morning.'

And there we met, no more to part,

To twine for ever hand and heart; And since that day, in wedlock join'd, The window shutter brings to mind,'Remember, love, remember.'

O, THINK NOT THAT THE FAIREST FACE.

Mozart's Das Madchen und der Vogel,' arranged by Muzio Clementi, to the Poetry of David Thomson. Allegretto.

THE WORLD IS A WELL-FURNISH'D TABLE.

From Love in a Village.'

The world is a well-fur-nish'd ta-ble, Where guests are pro-mis-cuously set:

And scramble for what we can get.

My simile holds to a tit- tle,-Some gorge, while some scarce have a taste; But, if I am

content with a little, Enough is as good as a feast, Enough, e-nough is as good as a feast.

THE ADVENTURES OF MAJOR LONGBOW, OR 'PON MY WORD IT'S TRUE-WHAT WILL YOU LAY IT'S A LIE?

A-ther walk or fly;- Up-on my life it's true,- What will you lay it's

SAW YE MY WEE THING.

The Poetry by Hector Macneil.-The Music as sung by Mr. Wilson.
Andante Moderuto.

'Saw ye my wee thing? aw ye my ain thing? Saw ye my true love down on you

ripe lips, and sweet-er than ro-ses;- Whar could my wee thing wan - der frae me?'

'I saw nae your wee thing, I saw nae your ain
thing,

Nor saw I your true love down on yon lea;
But I met my bonnie thing yestreen in the gloamin,
Down by the burnie whar flow'rs the haw-tree.'
Her hair it was lint-white; her skin it was milk-
white;

Dark was the blue o' her saft-rollin' ee;
Red were her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses;
Sweet were the kisses that she gae to me!'
'It was na my wee thing, it was na my ain thing,
It was na my true love ye saw on the lea:
Proud is her leal heart! and modest her nature!
She never lo'ed onie till ance she lo'ed me.
Her name it is Mary; she's frae Castle-Cary;
Aft has she sat, when a bairn, on my knee:
Fair as your face is, war't fifty times fairer,
Young bragger, she ne'er would gie kisses to
thee!'

'It was, then, your Mary; she's frae Castle-
Cary;

It was, then, your true love I met on the lea:
Proud as her heart is, and modest her nature,
Sweet were the kisses that she gae to me.'
Sair gloom'd his dark brow-blood-red his cheek
grew-

Wild flash'd the fire frae his red-rollin' ee :-
'Ye'se rue sair, this mornin', your boasts and your
scornin':

Defend ye, fause traitor! for loudly ye lie.'
'Awa wi' beguiling!' cried the youth, smiling:
Aff went the bonnet; the lint-white locks flee:
The belted plaid fa'ing, her white bosom shawing--
Fair stood the lov'd maid wi' the dark rollin' ee!
Is it my wee thing! is it mine ain thing!
Is it my true love here that I see!'
'O Jamie, forgie me; your heart's constant to me;
I'll never mair wander, dear laddie, frae thee!'

THE BRAES O' GLENIFFER.
Written by Tannahill to the same Music.

KEEN blaws the wind ower the braes o' Gleniffer,
The auld castle turrets are cover'd wi' snaw;
How chang'd frae the time when I met wi' my lover,
Amang the broom bushes by Stanley green shaw!
The wild flowers o' simmer were spread a' sae bonnie,
The mavis sang sweet frae the green birken-tree;
But far to the camp they hae march'd my dear
Johnnie,

And now it is winter wi' nature and me.
Then ilka thing round us was blithesome and cheerie,
Then ilka thing round us was bonnie and braw;
Now naething is heard but the wind whistling
drearie,

And naething is seen but the wide-spreading

snaw,

The trees are a' bare, and the birds mute and dowie,

They shake the cauld drift frae their wings as they
flee;

And chirp out their plaints, seeming wae for my
Johnnie,-

'Tis winter wi' them and 'tis winter wi' me. Yon cauld fleecy cloud skiffs alang the bleak mountain,

And shakes the dark firs on the steep rocky brae,

While down the deep glen brawls the snaw-flooded fountain,

That murmured sae sweet to my laddie and me. It's na its loud roar, on the wintry winds swellin', It's na the cauld blast brings the tear to my

A LIFE ON THE OCEAN WAVE.

Composed by Henry Russell; and published in Davidson's Cheap and Uniform Edition of his Compositions.

To the Melody of A Life on the Ocean Wave.'-Published in Davidson's Cheap Edition of the Songs of

the Ethiopian Serenaders.