| First Line |
Page |
Verses |
| I that once was a ploughman, a sailor am now |
13-16 |
4 |
| Sailor's life's a life of woe, A |
17-20 |
3 |
| Spring time returns, and cloaths the green plains, The [sic] |
21-23 |
4 |
| Dusky night rides down the sky, The |
23-25 |
6 |
| Says Plato, why should man be vain? |
26-27 |
3 |
| Echoing horn calls the sportsman abroad, The |
28-29 |
2 |
| O! thou lov'd country, where my youth was spent |
30-31 |
2 |
| Here a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling |
31-33 |
3 |
| Never till now I knew love's smart |
33-34 |
5 |
| 'Twas summer, and softly the breezes were blowing |
34-38 |
7 |
| Heavy hours are almost past, The |
38-39 |
3 |
| Come now all ye social pow'rs |
40-41 |
4 |
| To Bachelors Hall we good fellows invite |
42-44 |
5 |
| Too soon my dearest Sophia, pray take this adieu |
45-46 |
4 |
| Awful hero, Marlb'ro rise! |
46-49 |
9 |
| Fields were green, the hills were gay, The |
50-51 |
3 |
| Cease, rude Boreas, blust'ring railer |
51-55 |
9 |
| Plague of those musty old lubbers, A |
55-58 |
4 |
| Go patter to lubbers and swabs, do ye see |
58-61 |
4 |
| To ease his heart, and own his flame |
61-64 |
7 |
| Little insect that on high |
64-66 |
5 |
| Oh think on my fate once I freedom enjoy'd |
66-68 |
3 |
| Her sheep had in clusters crept close to the grove |
68-70 |
8 |
| When bidden to the wake or fair |
70-71 |
2 |
| Day is departed, and round from the cloud, The |
71-73 |
3 |
| Ah why must words my flame reveal? |
74-76 |
6 |
| When first I slipp'd my leading strings |
76-78 |
4 |
| 'Twas past meridian half past four |
78-80 |
7 |
| 'Twas near a thickets calm retreat |
81-82 |
3 |
| When thirst of gold enslaves the mind |
82-84 |
4 |
| Attention pray give, while of hobbies I sing |
84-86 |
7 |
| Ah Delia see the fatal hour |
86-88 |
7 |
| To my muse give attention, and deem it not a mystery |
89-93 |
11 |
| In the praise of Queen Bess lofty strains have been sung sir |
93-95 |
10 |
| Bright Phoebus has mounted the chariot of day |
96-98 |
4 |
| Tho' oft we meet severe distress in vent'ring out to sea |
98-99 |
3 |
| Diogenes surly and proud |
100-102 |
7 |
| When first the Sun o'er Ocean glow'd |
103-105 |
8 |
| My friends all declare that my time is mispent |
106-107 |
4 |
| Anacreon they say was a jolly old blade |
107-109 |
6 |
| There was a jolly miller once liv'd on the river Dee |
109-111 |
4 |
| On sturdy stout Dobbin I mounted my saddle |
111-114 |
4 |
| Sun sets at night, and the stars shun the day, The |
114-115 |
4 |
| How happy the soldier who lives on his pay |
115-116 |
3 |
| Meadows look cheerful, the birds sweetly sing, The |
117 |
2 |
| Adieu, adieu, my only life |
118-120 |
3 |
| 'Twas Saturday night, the twinkling stars |
120-122 |
5 |
| Hail! America hail! unrival'd in fame |
122-125 |
5 |
| Fresh and strong the breeze is blowing |
125-127 |
3 |
| As on a lonely hill I stray'd |
128-129 |
4 |
| Come all ye sons of song |
130-132 |
5 |
| Now let rich music sound |
133-134 |
6 |
| Poll. dang it, how d' ye do? |
135-136 |
4 |
| Spanking Jack was so comely, so pleasant, so jolly |
137-139 |
4 |
| For England when with fav'ring gale |
140-141 |
3 |
| 'Tis done! the edict past, by Heav'n decreed |
142-146 |
7 |
| Though distant far from Jessy's charms |
147-149 |
5 |
| Come rouse, brother sportsmen, the hunters all cry |
150-152 |
3 |
| See the course throng'd with gazers |
152-155 |
4 |
| Let ev'ry pagan muse be gone |
155-157 |
4 |
| When first I saw thee, graceful move |
158-159 |
2 |
| When faries trip round the gay green |
159-161 |
3 |
| How blest has my time been |
161-162 |
5 |
| When my fortune does frown, I'll not be cast down |
163-166 |
5 |
| On Afric's wide plains where the lion now roaring |
166-168 |
6 |
| O'er barren hills, and flow'ry dales |
168-170 |
3 |
| From place to place I travers'd long |
170-172 |
3 |
| Was I reduc'd to beg my bread |
172-174 |
3 |
| Forever, fortune wilt thou prove |
175-176 |
4 |
| As t' other day in harmless chat |
176-178 |
3 |
| Cease ye fountains, cease to murmur |
179-181 |
8 |
| Streamlet that flow'd round her cot, The |
181-182 |
2 |
| As Cupid in a garden stray'd, transported with the damask shade |
182-183 |
4 |
| Forbear my friends, forbear and ask no more |
184-187 |
12 |
| Well met my loving friends of art |
187-189 |
3 |
| Hark! notes melodious fill the skies! |
189-195 |
8 |
| Moon had clim'd the highest hill, The |
195-198 |
4 |
| Return enraptur'd hours |
198-199 |
3 |
| Dear Nancy, I've sail'd the world all around |
200-202 |
3 |
| Come loose ev'ry sail to the breeze |
202-204 |
4 |
| At the close of the day, when the hamlet was still |
204-207 |
4 |
| Columbia, Columbia to glory arise |
207-211 |
6 |
| Ye sons of Columbia, who bravely have fought |
211-218 |
8 |
| Leander on the bay of Hel-lespont all doubtful stood |
218-221 |
6 |
| Young Myra is fair as spring's early flower |
221-224 |
5 |
| Encompass'd in an angel's frame |
224-227 |
4 |
| What sorrowful sounds do I hear |
228-230 |
6 |
| 'Twas with-in a mile of Edinburgh town |
231-232 |
3 |
| Peaceful slumb'ring on the Ocean |
233-234 |
6 |
| Come buy of poor Kate, primroses I sell |
235-237 |
8 |
| Bright Sol at length by Thetis woo'd |
238-241 |
3 |
| Why should our joys transform to pain? |
241-244 |
10 |
| How brimful of nothing's the life of a beau |
245-246 |
5 |
| Rise, my Delia, heav'nly charmer |
247-249 |
8 |
| Friendship to ev'ry willing mind |
249-252 |
5 |
| If to force me to sing it be your intention |
252-254 |
7 |
| 'Twas when the seas were roaring |
254-256 |
5 |
| Hark, the din of distant war |
256-258 |
5 |
| Oh! say simple maid, have you form'd any notion |
258-259 |
4 |
| Tom Tackle was noble, was true to his word |
260-263 |
4 |
| Cheek enros'd with crimson dye, The |
263-264 |
4 |
| If ever a sailor was fond of good sport |
265-267 |
5 |
| Tho' Bacchus may boast of his care-killing bowl |
268-270 |
6 |
| If life's a rough path, as the sages have said |
271-273 |
3 |
| When Alcidea, the son of Olympian Jove |
274-277 |
3 |
| See now the blust'ring Boreas blows |
278-284 |
7 |
| Shape alone let others prize, A |
285-286 |
6 |
| Bright dawns the day, with rosy face |
287-288 |
1 |
| If you find out his lair, to the woodlands repair |
289-291 |
4 |
| Adieu, ye groves, adieu ye plains |
291-292 |
4 |
| Since then I'm doom'd this sad reverse to prove |
293-294 |
3 |
| Ye mortals whom fancies and troubles perplex |
295-296 |
3 |
| To music be the verse addrest |
297-300 |
6 |