COUNTRY COMMISSIONS TO MY COUSIN | He hums and he hankers, he frets and he cankers. IN TOWN. DEAR Cousin, I write this in haste, To beg you will get for mamma A pot of best jessamine paste, pa, And a pair of shoe-buckles for For a skein of white worsted at Flint's. Papa wants a new razor strop, And mamma wants a Chinchilli muff; Little Bobby's in want of a top, And my aunt wants six-pen'orth of snuff: Just call in St. Martin's-le-Grand For some goggles for Mary, (who squints); And while you are there you may stop And while you are there you can go But all this you may easily do When you get the white worsted at Flint's. I send, in this parcel, from Bet, An old spelling-book to be bound, A cornelian broach to be set, And some razors of pa's to be ground. O dear, what a memory have I! Notwithstanding all Deborah's hints, I've forgotten to tell you to buy A skein of white worsted from Flint's. YOUR FROWNS, TOO SURE, WOULD SINCE then I'm doom'd this sad reverse to prove, And driven the keenest storms of fate to bear: Ah! but forgive me, pitied let me part, Your frowns, too sure, would break my sinking heart. Where'er I go, whate'er my lowly state, Yet grateful mem'ry still shall linger here; And when, perhaps, you're musing o'er my fate, You still may greet me with a tender tear: Ah! then forgive me, pitied let me part, Your frowns, too sure, would break my sinking heart. WHAT CAN A YOUNG LASSIE DO WI' AN AULD MAN? (Burns.) WHAT can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie, What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man? Bad luck on the pennie that tempted my minnie To sell her poor Jenny for siller an' lan'! Bad luck on the pennie, &c. He's always compleenin' frae mornin' to e'enin', He hosts and he hirples the weary day lang; He's doylt and he's dozin', his blude it is frozen, O, dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man! He's doylt and he's dozin', &c. I never can please him, do a' that I can; He's peevish and jealous of a' the young fellows, O, dool on the day I met wi' an auld man! My auld auntie Katie upon me takes pity, "TIS A FOLLY TO TALK OF LIFE'S TROUBLES. Air-" Away with this pouting and Sadness. "Tis a folly to talk of life's troubles, There are always two sides of the way, Yet there's good in it Wisdom decides, If a man all his teeth chance to lack, He may save the expense of a purse; Why, he's sure his sight cannot grow worse. If a man's but one shirt at the most He's no trouble to think which he'll use; And if he's as deaf as a post, Why, he'll never hear unwelcome news. If light-headed, why still you're all right, For there's comfort to think it an't madness; And if a man's drunk day and night, Why, it's clear he can't feel sober sadness. If but little your own you can call, It's quite certain much you cannot pay, And if you've got nothing at all, Why, you're sure they can't take it away. Strange stories may find few upholders, But one thing you'll grant which is that If a man has no head on his shoulders, He'll ne'er know the want of a hat. THE DEVIL TAKE HIM WHO WOULD A FOND husband will, after a conjugal strife, WE know these troubadours, Who think themselves so wise; Ah! once they used such arts; We gave to them our hearts. Not a word that you've heard For these men-now and then Hush! 'twas but a souvenir, &c. These swains they laid a snare, To catch us both they thought; But, ah! for want of care, In their own trap were caught. They fled and wandered here, Forgetful of each vow, By way of souvenir, We'd punish them just now. Hush! 'tis but a souvenir, &c. THE MISERIES OF A QUALITY FOOTMAN. (Lawler.) A FOOTMAN, So dapper, With a well-powdered napper, Quite brim-full of pride and frivolity, When footman I've been To a lady of rank and quality. Twenty heads, fifty hands, I should need, for they came in a swarm, 'Cause two words were misplaced In a message as long as my arm. SPOKEN, ad libitum.] It was from Lady Howd'ye to my Lady Allnight, and ran thus:-Make my compliments to her ladyship, tell her that a certain person that I know has been speaking to a certain that she knows on a particular subject that person we both know, concerning a private affair of Lady Betty's that all the world knows. So, as I said before, for misplacing a syllable or two, I lost my place. Such service I've seen, I found wouldn't chime: I was just like a slave at his oar: Ladies' service I've left, And I ne'er mean to take to it more. SPOKEN, ad libitum.] One morning, said my mistress, "Martin, bring in breakfast, afterwards, attend the young ladies in Hyde-Park-you have only fifty cards to deliver this morning, so you can step to the library, for Miss Flimsey's new novel, and look in at Birenall's for Mr. Humstrum, our music master's new sonata-run to the Morning Post, and bespeak two columns and a half for my rout on Thursday-then call for the puffs at the pastrycook's take a front box at the theatre. When the play is over, I shall go to Lady Dasher's rout, and finish the evening at the Honourable Mrs. Cheatum's card party. Thank heaven, 'tis o'er, I'll be footman no more To a lady of rank and quality. HAD I A HEART FOR FALSEHOOD FRAMED. (Sheridan.) HAD I a heart for falsehood framed, For though your tongue no promise claimed, To you no soul shall bear deceit, No stranger offer wrong, But friends in all the aged you'll meet, And lovers in the young. But when they learn that you have blest They'll bid aspiring passion rest, And act a brother's part; Then, lady, dread not here deceit, For friends in all the aged you'll meet, young. GENTLE LOVE SHALL BE OUR SONG. (E. M.) FAIREST maiden, ope thine eyes, Wake, my ever-charming fair, Whilst genial pleasures round us throng Through the clouds the moon doth break, Then, maiden, from thy couch arise, With her flames and darts, and apple-tarts, her ices, trifles, cherry-brandy, O, she knew not which to choose, for she thought them both the dandy. MISS PATTY PUFF AND HER TWO SWEETHEARTS; OR, THE DUEL A-LA-MODE. Air- The Bold Dragoon."-(C. Dibdin.) THERE was a gay man-milliner, his name was Timmy Twist, And at making caps and bonnets he'd a mighty pretty fist; With his snips and shreds, and fitting heads, his gauze, and gimp, long thread, and needle, O, he loved a pastry-cook, and he thought her heart to wheedle! Whack falare, bow, wow, wow. There was a spruce shoe-maker, a dabster at an awl, They called him Billy Boot, and he kept a pretty stall; With his last, and shoe, and lapstone, too, his warend, grinding-strap, and hammer, O, he loved this pastry-cook, too, and told her many a crammer. Whack falare, &c. Whack falare, &c. The seconds signal gave to fire, when Timmy swooned away, And Billy, not observing it, ran off without de. lay, With his paste, and pegs, and nimble legs, while both the seconds laugh and hoot him; O, he stuck fast in a hedge, and roared lest Tim should come and shoot him. Whack falare, &c. Now all ye modern heroes, who'd your credit save from fright, Be sure to tell the constables when challenges you write; With your guns, and swords, and great big words, that off weak stomachs come so clever, O, they'll bind you to the peace, and you may brag as much as ever. Whack falare, &c. BEN AND SALLY. (Upton.) THE waves were hushed, the sky serene, When sailing on the main, Ben, from the maintop, viewed the scene, And sung, in tender strain ;"Dear Sall, this picture round my neck, Which bears thy likeness true, Shall e'er my faithful bosom deck, Which throbs for only you. The night was still, when last on shore We took a parting kiss, And warm the vows each other swore A token then my Sally gave, JE NE SCAI QUOI! GIVE me the dear little creatures, That alone give of beauty the air. And the tongue prattle good humour's law, And softness enriching, O! beauty is-Je ne scai quoi! I'll have a tit-bit by the law; HUSHED BE YOUR CARES IN SLEEP. SOFT downy sleep! oh, sooth the soul Oh! may they never dream of love, And treat it with disdain. But least some tender thought should rise For her you did adore, And, in a fancied agony, You still might suffer more! Ah! sink in ease your restless frame, And, undisturbed with anxious dream, THE JOYS OF DRINKING. OH, the joys of drinking! Makes us bid farewell to thinking, And proves each man an ass. "Tis pleasure calls—the sparkling wine See mirth and jollity combine, And laughter makes us shake. SPOKEN. Gentlemen, charge your glasses; The King. I say, Tom, did I tell you what an excellent thing I said at our Punch-Club?-No.I'll tell you; I did not go till late, but that's not to the purpose.-No; nor nothing else you say can be to the purpose.-Ñay, I'll convince you; when I entered the room, I heard the President say, Charge your glasses.'-Now observe-the President, when they were all filled, called the landlord; Come, landlord, charge your glass.'-1 directly replied-now mark- Mr. President, I dare say the landlord will charge enough for the liquor, without charging the glass!'-Now, what d'ye think? Wasn't it an excellent thing?-Why, it was pretty well for you.-Come, gents, in the corner, I can't think how you can sit there, talk, talk, talk, as you do; for my part, I love peace and quietness, and hate a talkative man. Now I never say a word to any one; all my friends say what a quiet man I am. It is a wonder to get more than yes or no from me. I never open my mouth without occasion, and to convince you of it, I'll tell you a story:-You must know there wasSilence-Sir, I was only observing what a very quiet man I am, sir.-Silence!- Song from the President.-Gentlemen, I can't sing, but I'll try, hem, hem Old wine and young women are all my delight, But with wine I'm content when my fair one's away; So push round the glasses all you who incline, wine. SPOKEN.] Bravo! very good! excellent! This is the feast of reason in a flowing bowl, (as the poet says,) 'tis an excellent toast.-Here's old women and young wine!-Ha, ha, ha.-I say, Bill, there's nothing like drinking, d-me, for making a man sleep, d-me, only it makes us queer and drowsy in the morning, d-me.-I say, how did you feel this morning?-O, middling; a cursed bad head-ache, and very queer, or else I was as well as ever I was in my life.-Ah, I thought so, d-me.-Well, Bob, was you late last night? -No; I was early; for I did not go home till nine this morning. I thought it was a pity to disturb my dear wife, as I was so comfortable; you must know I like rational conversation, and there's nothing rational in my wife, for she will have all the talk to herself.-Come, Mr. President, I'll give you a toast. Here's may the evening's amusement bear the morning's reflection.' So push round the glasses, The pleasures of drinking. Now higher mounts the liquor, reflection flies away, The glass goes round the quicker, and every heart is gay, Sweet harmony is banished far, and with it all true joys; See peace and quiet turned to war, and mirth supplied by noise. SPOKEN, drunk.] Well, it does not signify talking, there's nothing like a pretty girl-I wonder how you can take such pleasure in drinking as you do: 'tis a shocking bad habit. I love a pretty girl, and I'll give you a song to convince you of it.-Silence for a volunteer song.-Must be good as 'tis a volunteer. Farewell to the bottle and glass, to thy arms, My beautiful Mary, I flee; For wine, so delicious, no longer has charms And I only will live-only breathe for thy sake- So push round the glasses, &c. WHEN FROM THE BOUGHS THE NIGHT- IT is the hour when from the boughs Sound sweet in every whispered word. Make music to the lonely ear. As twilight melts beneath the moon away. MASTER ROONEY OF BALLINAFAD. IN Ireland so frisky, with sweet girls and whisky, But well I remember, one foggy November, → ocean, Was shipwrecked, and murdered, and sold for a Over mountains and rivers was pelted to shivers, With a whack for old Ireland and Ballinafad. LET Freemasons boast of their early got fame, Still, Odd-fellows more useful have been; |