Andante. ICH DENKE DEIN-I THINK ON THEE. milk it her kye, And this was her sang, while the tears doun did fa:-'O! there' nae bard o' na-ture sin' Rob-in's a-wa'. The bards o' our coun-try now sing as they may, The best o' their dit-ties but maks my heart wae; For at the blithe strain there was ane beat them a';-Oh! there's nae bard O! there's nae bard o' nature sin' Robin's awa', since he has teaz'd me to death; For so sweet-ly he sings, and makes love with such faith of Saint Pa-trick he's shot thro' my heart, With his Gram-a-chreeMolly,och! what can I do? He vows, if I'll enter the conjugal life, He'll,-O! to be sure,-only make me a wife; Then, so tender he looks when we lovingly chat. That I long to be married-but won't tell him that; With his Gramachree Molly, &c. Last Sunday at church he must fain tell the priest; Moderato. DORSETSHIRE HOUSE. Published by Lonsdale. All the world has been ask'd to the par-ty to-night-"Twill be the most bril-liant dis play of the year: Mis-ses George will be there, though her daugh-ter's a fright; And La-dy Jane Rook, with her three girls, I hear. Mis- -ses Can-dour's invited, tho' no one knows why, And that for-ward de tes-ta-ble lit-tle Miss Rouse! What can be the rea-son my daugh-ter and I My daughter is handsome,-no girl's so well dress'd; Her gowns alone cost me a hundred a year! 'Mongst the waltzers at Almack's she's reckon'd the best, And the women all envy her figure, I hear! She's sure to be ask'd-whilst my daughter and I Comes sneeringly up to my daughter and me Ut course I shall meet you at Dorsetshire House!' Tis in vain that we open our house all the year, And give entertainments of every sort; Have a box at the Opera, on the best tier, And are seen at the balls and the parties at Court! Larghetto. lone are ex- cluded from Dor-set-shire House? In spite of it all, still my daughter and I [Rouse I would give up my efforts, abandon each hape, O! he might have propos'd to my daughter to-night, Nay-'tis only a note!-O! my fate is too hard! Then we shall not be ask'd to this party, 'tis clear! But what do I read?-O! I'm ready to fall!The Marquis is going to marry Miss Rouse!!She tells me 'twas settled last week at the ball, From which we were excluded, at Dorsetshire House! MY OWN DEAR SOMEBODY. yonder herds are feu, And steal a look at some-bo-dy, My own dear some-bo-dy, my con-stant some bc; I'd creep where yon-der herds are fed, And steal a look at some-bo-dy. |