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| Hark! hark! the joy-inspiring horn |
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| Come rouse from your trances |
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| Early horn salutes the morn, The |
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| Let the gay ones and great |
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| Sound, sound the brisk horn |
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| Sweet rosy morning, The |
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| Dusky night, &c. |
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| Ask if yon damask rose is sweet |
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| No woman her envy can smother |
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| Let heroes delight in the toils of the war |
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| Of woman to tell you my mind |
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| Believe my sighs, my tears, &c. |
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| Can love be controul'd by advice? |
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| Dear Chloe, come give me sweet kisses |
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| Declare my pretty maid |
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| When Placinda's beauties appear |
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| Fair Kitty beautiful and young |
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| From college I came |
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| Ah my dear Margella, &c. |
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| As thro' the grove I chanc'd to stray |
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| By a cool fountains flow'ry side |
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| In pursuit of some lambs, &c. |
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| Tho' women 'tis true are but tender |
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| From sweet bewitching tricks of love |
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| Topsail shiver in the wind, The [sic] |
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| When first I sought fair Celia's love |
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| Dear madam when ladies are willing |
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| You may say what you will, &c. |
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| I'm in love with twenty |
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| Buy my matches ye maids, &c. |
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| I'm jolly Dick the lamplighter |
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| Why dont you know me by my scars |
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| Sir Solomon Simmons when he did wed [sic] |
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| Come pretty Poll from tears refrain! |
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| Just at the close of summer's day |
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| Dapper-tit-tat-too is my natty name |
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| Young Mog arriv'd at woman's growth |
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| On Richmond Hill there lives a lass |
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| As cross the field the other morn |
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| Can you to battle march away |
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| Little does the towns-wife know |
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| When I was at home I was merry and frisky |
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| For our country when with fav'ring gale |
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| Bold Jack, the sailor, here I come |
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| See the course throng'd with gazers, &c. |
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| On Afric's wide plains, &c. |
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| Spanking Jack, &c. |
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| Loud thund'ring cannons rend the air |
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| O dear! what can the matter be |
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| Tho' I'm a very little lad |
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| When I've money I am merry |
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| Come cheer up my countrymen, &c. |
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| Rise, patriot sons, the morn appears |
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| Trumpet of Liberty, &c., The |
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| God save the Rights of Man! |
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| Come buy of poor Mary primroses I sell |
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| O'er barren hills and flow'ry dales |
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| Fill high the animating glass |
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| War has still its melody |
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| Come, come ny lads, lets toss the can |
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| Stand to your guns my hearts of oak |
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| Four and twenty fiddlers, &c. |
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| Across the downs this morning |
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| Ah! ca ira! |
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| O dearly do I love to rove |
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| This morning Aurora, &c. |
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