JEPHTHA'S DAUGHTER. Hebrew Melody.-The Poetry by Lord Byron; the Music by I. Nathan. And the voice of my mourning is o'er, And of this, O, my father! be sure, And the last thought that soothes me below. thy vow, Strike the bosom that's bar'd to thee now. Though the virgins of Salem lament, Be the judge of the hero unbent! I have won the great battle for thee, When this blood of thy giving hath gush'd, UNCLE GABRIEL; OR, O COME ALONG, O SANDY BOY, Published in Davidson's Cheap Edition of the Songs of the Ethiopian Serenaders. All night I nebber sleep a wink For tinking ob dis ghost, So I wander'd out by moonlight, I started werry much at dis,- O! come along, &c. And fust, she roll'd her eyes about, I'm Dinah Ginger, well you know, O come along, &c. 'But eb'ry night, atwixt the hours And though I leab her to her fate, She's faithful still to me; And eb'ry night, when de moon am bright Dat horrid sight I see!' O! come along, &c. Allegro. O! HAD I JUBAL'S LYRE. O had I Ju-bal's lyre, Or Mi-riam's tune-ful voice, O had I Ju-bal's lyre, Or Miriam's tune-ful voice, To sounds like his I would as-pire, To sounds like faintly show, How much to Heav'n and thee I owe, How much to Heav'n and thee I owe. Vivace. THE BOLD DRAGOON. There was an ancient fair, O! she lov'd a nate young man, And she could not throw sly looks at him, but on-ly thro' her fan; With her winks and blinks, this waddling minx, her quizzing ad lib. glass, her leer and si-dle, O! she lov'd a bold dra-goon, with his long sword, sad-dle, bri-dle, Whack row di dow dow, tal la la di ral di; Whack row di dow dow, tal de ral de ral de ral. She had a rolling eye,-its fellow it had none; With her winks and blinks, this waddling minx, Now, he was tall and slim,-she, squab and short He look'd just like a mile in length,-she, just like With her winks and blinks, this waddling minx, Soon he led unto the church the beauteous Mrs. Flin, O! then such winks! in marriage links A twelvemonth scarce had pass'd, when he laid her Soon he threw the onion from his eyes and touch'd For her winks and blinks her mone, chinks, THOUGH WINTER BLAST THE WEEPING YEAR. Moderato. The Poetry by Dr. Wolcot; the Music by Dr. Busby. Though win-ter blast the weep - ing year, Let Cyn-thia's pre-sence glad my soul; No howling winds a-round I hear, Un heard the roar-ing torrents roll. With |