| First Line |
Page |
Verses |
| From night till morn I take my glass |
9 |
2 |
| I seek not at once in a female to find |
9-10 |
2 |
| What means that tender sigh, my dear? |
10-11 |
4 |
| Let misers with their treasure |
11 |
3 |
| Flow, thou regal purple stream |
12 |
2 |
| No longer let whimsical songsters compare |
12-13 |
7 |
| Smiling morn, the blooming spring, The |
13-14 |
3 |
| When William, at eve, meets me down at the stile |
14 |
2 |
| When the rosy morn appearing |
14-15 |
3 |
| At setting day and rising morn |
15 |
2 |
| Frolic and free, for pleasure born |
15-16 |
3 |
| Ye gay sons of Bacchus, replenish the bowl |
16-17 |
4 |
| Adieu to the village delights |
17 |
3 |
| For thee my fair a wreath has wove |
18 |
3 |
| Whilst on thy dear bosom lying |
18 |
2 |
| Happy hours, all hours excelling |
19 |
2 |
| Blow high, blow low, let tempest tear |
19-20 |
3 |
| Midnight moon serenely smiles, The |
20 |
3 |
| Sailor's life's a life of woe, A |
21-22 |
3 |
| Come sing round my fav'rite tree |
22 |
2 |
| Rose with sweet fragrance delights, The |
23 |
2 |
| Soft zephyr, on thy balmy wing |
23 |
3 |
| In airy dreams soft fancy flies |
23-24 |
4 |
| When I drain the rosy bowl |
24-25 |
3 |
| And are you sure the news is true |
25-26 |
3 |
| Fickle bliss, fantastic treasure |
26 |
3 |
| Awake, my fair, sweet Chloe wake |
27 |
3 |
| Come, Hope, thou queen of endless smiles |
27-28 |
2 |
| Topsails shiver in the wind, The |
28 |
3 |
| Free from sorrow, free from strife |
28-29 |
2 |
| Together let us range the fields |
29 |
1 |
| Ye nymphs, whose softer souls approve |
29-30 |
4 |
| 'Twas when the seas were roaring |
30-31 |
5 |
| They that would contentment find |
31-32 |
6 |
| Smiling dawn of happy days, The |
32 |
1 |
| Ah! Strephon, what can mean the joy |
32-33 |
3 |
| When the young Chloe's rising charms |
33-34 |
4 |
| How sweet in the woodland, with fleet hound and horn |
34 |
2 |
| Ye parents who breathe the cool ev'ning of life |
34-35 |
2 |
| Sprightly horn awakes the morn, The |
35 |
2 |
| If you my wand'ring heart would find |
35-36 |
2 |
| See, ye swains, yon streaks of red |
36 |
3 |
| Moon had climb'd the highest hill, The |
36-37 |
4 |
| Though Chloe's out of fashion |
38 |
3 |
| Rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a show'r, The |
38-39 |
5 |
| You ask me, dear Jack, for an emblem that's rife |
39-40 |
3 |
| Echoing horn calls the sportsman abroad, The |
40 |
2 |
| How long must hapless Celia mourn |
40-41 |
3 |
| Cease, rude Boreas, blust'ring railer |
41-43 |
9 |
| My native land I bade adieu |
43 |
2 |
| Gentle swan, with graceful pride, The |
44 |
4 |
| I sail'd from the downs in the Nancy |
45-46 |
5 |
| When I took my departure from Dublin's sweet city |
46-48 |
6 |
| Tho' Bacchus may boast of his care killing bowl |
48-49 |
7 |
| How happily my life I led |
49-50 |
2 |
| Dear Chloe, whilst thus beyond measure |
50-51 |
5 |
| On pleasure's smooth wing how old time steals away |
51-52 |
5 |
| When summer comes, the swains on Tweed |
53 |
4 |
| Lass of Patie's mill, The |
54 |
4 |
| Forth from my dark and dismal cell |
55-56 |
12 |
| Time has not thinn'd my flowing hair [sic] |
56 |
2 |
| When the sheep are in the fauld, and the ky at hame |
57-58 |
9 |
| In the down-hill of life, when I find I'm declining |
58-59 |
4 |
| Daughter sweet of voice and air |
59-60 |
6 |
| Come, shepherds, we'll follow the hearse |
61-62 |
8 |
| One summer eve, as Nancy fair [sic] |
62-63 |
4 |
| See the course throng'd with gazers, the sports are begun |
63-64 |
3 |
| Resolv'd as her poet, of Celia to sing |
64-65 |
4 |
| When I was a young one, what girl was like me |
65-66 |
6 |
| We bipeds, made up of frail clay |
66-67 |
4 |
| When the anchor's weigh'd, and the ship's unmoor'd |
67-68 |
6 |
| Hark! the horn calls away |
69-70 |
6 |
| Sure Sally is the loveliest lass |
70-71 |
5 |
| There was an old man, and though it's not common |
71-73 |
8 |
| When spring, dispensing sweets around |
73-74 |
3 |
| Life's like a sea in constant motion |
74-75 |
4 |
| To Anacreon in Heav'n, where he sat in full glee |
75-77 |
6 |
| In all the sex some charms I find |
77-78 |
4 |
| Sylvia, wilt thou waste thy prime |
78-79 |
3 |
| Women all tell me I'm false to my lass, The |
79-80 |
10 |
| Come, come, my good shepherds, our flocks we must shear |
81 |
5 |
| Festive board was met, the social band, The |
81-82 |
3 |
| As Thyrsis reclin'd by her side he lov'd best |
82-83 |
5 |
| Sweet are the charms of her I love |
83-85 |
7 |
| Where the jessamin sweetens the bow'r [sic] |
85-86 |
4 |
| In April when primroses paint the sweet plain |
86-87 |
3 |
| Haste, haste, Amelia, gentle fair |
87-88 |
3 |
| O'er moorlands and mountains, rude, barren, and bare |
88-89 |
8 |
| Bright Phoebus has mounted the chariot of day |
90 |
3 |
| Then here's to thee, Tom: and now here's to thee Will |
90-91 |
4 |
| Oh! come thou rosy god of wine |
91-92 |
4 |
| Time like the winged courser flies |
92-93 |
4 |
| Free from the bustle, care, and strife |
93-94 |
5 |
| O how shall I, in language weak |
94 |
2 |
| Thou soft invader of the soul |
94 |
1 |
| Though my features, I'm told |
95 |
4 |
| Miss Danae, when fair and young |
95-96 |
2 |
| O Love, thou bitter foe to rest |
96 |
3 |
| In infancy our hopes and fears |
97 |
1 |
| Sleep on, sleep on, my Kathleen dear |
97 |
2 |
| Wealthy fool, with gold in store, The |
97-98 |
2 |
| Rose tree in full bloming, A |
98 |
2 |
| Dear Tom, this brown jug, that foams with mild ale |
98-99 |
3 |
| Come haste to the wedding, ye friends and ye neighbours |
99-100 |
3 |
| O Sandy, why leav'st thou thy Nellie to mourn? |
100-101 |
3 |
| O Nelly! no longer thy Sandy now mourns |
101-102 |
3 |
| Wand'ring sailor ploughs the main, The |
102-103 |
3 |
| Encompass'd in an angel's frame |
103-104 |
4 |
| My lodging is on the cold ground |
104 |
3 |
| Ah! sure a pair was never seen |
105 |
3 |
| Let Masonry from pole to pole |
105-106 |
2 |
| O the days when I was young |
106-107 |
6 |
| Come, jolly Bacchus, god of wine |
107 |
2 |
| My temples with clusters of grapes I'll entwine |
108 |
5 |
| With women and wine I defy ev'ry care |
108-113 [109] |
5 |
| O bonny lass, will you lie in a barrack |
113-114 |
3 |
| There was a jolly miller once |
114-115 |
7 |
| Ye fair married dames, who so often deplore |
116 |
5 |
| Ye fair, possess'd of ev'ry charm |
116-117 |
3 |
| Ye fair, who shine throughout this land |
117-118 |
6 |
| Wanton god, who pierces hearts, The |
119 |
4 |
| To ease his heart, and own his flame |
119-120 |
6 |
| While the lads of the village shall merrily, ah! |
120-121 |
3 |
| Shepherds, I have lost my love |
121 |
2 |
| How oft, Louisa, hast thou said |
121-122 |
4 |
| Down the burn, and thro' the mead |
122-123 |
3 |
| What bard, O time, discover |
123-124 |
2 |
| Come now, all ye social pow'rs |
124-125 |
5 |
| Silver moon's enamour'd beam, The |
125-126 |
4 |
| Farewell to Lochaber, and farewell, my Jean |
126 |
3 |
| World, my dear Myra, is full of deceit, The |
127 |
4 |
| Had I a heart for falsehood fram'd |
127-128 |
4 |
| Cease, gay seducers, pride to take |
128 |
2 |
| Let rakes and libertines, resign'd |
128-129 |
3 |
| Soldier, tir'd of war's alarms, The |
129 |
1 |
| Though prudence may press me |
129 |
2 |
| When war's alarms entic'd my Willy from me |
130 |
2 |
| Could I her faults remember |
130 |
2 |
| Give Isaac the nymph, who no beauty can boast |
131 |
4 |
| Give me but a wife, I expect not to find |
131-132 |
6 |
| Hope! thou nurse of young desire! |
132-133 |
3 |
| How blest the maid, whose bosom |
133 |
1 |
| How imperfect is expression |
133-134 |
3 |
| Leave off this idle prating |
134-135 |
5 |
| When trees did bud, and fields were green |
135-136 |
10 |
| Guardian angels, now protect me |
136-137 |
3 |
| Jolly mortals, fill tour glasses |
137 |
3 |
| Let's be jovial---fill your glasses-- |
138 |
3 |
| I am marry'd, and happy, with wonder hear this |
138-139 |
4 |
| Oh! had I been by fate decreed |
139 |
2 |
| My banks are all furnish'd with bees |
139-140 |
3 |
| Fill your glasses: banish grief |
140-141 |
4 |
| Ye belles, and ye flirts, and ye pert little things |
141-142 |
4 |
| Ye virgins, attend |
143 |
5 |
| Pride of all nature was sweet Willy O, The |
144 |
5 |
| Bird, that hears her nestlings cry, The |
144-145 |
3 |
| 'Twas summer, and softly the breezes were blowing |
145-146 |
3 |
| How happy were my days till now! |
146 |
3 |
| Come, live with me, and be my love |
147 |
|
| With tuneful pipe and merry glee |
147-148 |
3 |
| Young Jamie loo'd me weel, and ask'd me for his bride |
148-149 |
4 |
| Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen |
149-150 |
4 |
| When all the Attic Fire was fled |
150-151 |
3 |
| Bumper of good liquor, A |
151 |
2 |
| As I went to the wake that is held on the green |
151-152 |
4 |
| Ask if yon damask rose is sweet |
152 |
3 |
| Attend, ye nymphs, while I impart |
152-153 |
5 |
| I have seriously weigh'd it, and find it but just |
153-154 |
5 |
| Blow, blow, thou winter's wind |
154 |
2 |
| By him we love offended |
155 |
2 |
| Go, rose, my Chloe's bosom grace |
155-156 |
2 |
| In penance for past folly |
156157 |
7 |
| Lowland lads think they are fine, The |
158 |
2 |
| When the trees are all bare, not a leaf to be seen |
158-159 |
4 |
| Contented I am, and contented I'll be |
159-160 |
9 |
| Heavy hours are almost past, The |
161 |
3 |
| I lock'd up all my treasure |
161-162 |
3 |
| Dear heart! what a terrible life I am led! [sic] |
162 |
2 |
| Farewell, ye green fields, and sweet groves |
162-163 |
3 |
| Push about the brisk bowl: 'twill enliven the heart |
163-164 |
7 |
| Well met, pretty nymph, says a jolly young swain |
164-165 |
4 |
| There was once---it is said |
165-169 |
19 |
| Modes of the court so common are grown, The |
169 |
1 |
| Virgin, when soften'd by May, The |
170 |
4 |
| Blest as th' immortal gods is he |
171 |
3 |
| What shepherd, or nymph of the grove |
171-173 |
5 |
| Would you taste the noon-tide air |
173 |
2 |
| As you mean to set sail for the land of delight |
173-174 |
4 |
| Believe my sighs, my tears, my dear |
174-175 |
4 |
| By the gayly-circling glass |
175 |
2 |
| If love's a sweet passion, how can it torment |
175-176 |
3 |
| I winna marry ony mon but Sandy o'er the lee |
176 |
|
| Lovely nymph, assuage my anguish |
177 |
2 |
| My Sandy is the sweetest swain |
177-178 |
4 |
| Vows of love should ever bind |
178 |
2 |
| Water parted from the sea |
178 |
2 |
| In love should there meet a fond pair |
178-179 |
2 |
| Rail no more, ye learned asses |
179 |
2 |
| To heal the smart a bee had made |
179 |
2 |
| Was I a shepherd's maid, to keep |
180 |
2 |
| When innocent pastime our pleasure did crown |
180-181 |
3 |
| My Nancy quits the rural train |
181 |
2 |
| As down on Banna's banks I stray'd, one ev'ning in May |
181-183 |
7 |
| Dear Chloe, come give me sweet kisses |
183-184 |
3 |
| Sun from the East tips the mountains with gold, The |
184-185 |
5 |
| If o'er the cruel tyrant, love |
185 |
3 |
| In the social amusements of life let me live |
186 |
3 |
| Since wedlock's in vogue, and stale virgins despis'd |
186-187 |
5 |
| How blithe was I each morn to see |
188 |
3 |
| How blest my time has been! what days I have known |
189 |
5 |
| When late I wander'd o'er the plain |
190 |
4 |
| Ye sportsmen draw near, and ye sportswomen too |
190-191 |
3 |
| You tell me I'm handsome, (I know not how true) |
191-192 |
3 |
| Since laws are made for ev'ry degree |
192 |
1 |
| Come let us prepare |
193-194 |
7 |
| Amo, amas, I love a lass |
194-195 |
3 |
| Not far from town a village squire |
195-196 |
6 |