| First Line |
Page |
Verses |
| Down the burn and thro' the mead |
1 |
3 |
| Fair Hebe I left with a cautious design |
2 |
1 |
| Lowland lads think they are fine, The |
2 |
3 |
| My sweet pretty Mog, you're as soft as a bog |
3 |
3 |
| As Jockey sat beneath a shade |
3-4 |
3 |
| Shepherds I have lost my love |
4 |
4 |
| It was summer so softly the breezes were blowing |
5 |
6 |
| Dusky night rides down the sky, The |
5-6 |
6 |
| Too plain, dear youth, these tell-tale eyes |
6-7 |
6 |
| Leave, neighbours, your work, and to sport and to play |
7-8 |
5 |
| Topsail shivers in the wind, The |
8 |
4 |
| Some how my spindle I mislaid |
8-9 |
3 |
| This world is a stage, where all men engage |
9-10 |
9 |
| When lav'rocks sweet and yellow broom |
10 |
3 |
| When kind friends expect a song |
11 |
6 |
| Come now, all ye social pow'rs |
11-12 |
5 |
| Ye virgins attend, believe me your friend |
12-13 |
5 |
| My days have been so wondrous fine |
13 |
8 |
| It is I believe, next Hollandtide eve |
14 |
5 |
| Stag thro' the forest, when rous'd by the horn, The |
14 |
2 |
| Cobler there was, and he liv'd in a stall, A |
15 |
7 |
| Wealthy fool, with gold in store, The |
16 |
4 |
| Taylor I once was as blithe as e'er need be, A |
16-17 |
6 |
| I envy not the proud their wealth |
17 |
5 |
| Me be one poor slave, brought into Barbado |
18 |
5 |
| No glory I covet, no riches I want |
18-19 |
5 |
| Leave off your fooloish prating |
19 |
3 |
| 'Twas on the morn of sweet May day |
20-21 |
5 |
| 'Tis wine that clears the understanding |
21 |
4 |
| Let the tempest of war |
21-22 |
3 |
| Drunk I was last night, that's poz |
22 |
6 |
| Cease, rude Boreas, blust'ring railer! |
22-24 |
9 |
| No more I'll court the town-bred fair |
24-25 |
4 |
| When war's alarms entic'd my Willy from me |
25 |
2 |
| At Totterdwon hill there dwelt an old pair |
25-26 |
4 |
| As you mean to set sail for the land of delight |
26-27 |
4 |
| Guardian angel now protect me |
27 |
3 |
| Echoing horn calls the sportsmen abroad, The |
28 |
4 |
| Spring was advancing, and birds were beginning, The |
28-29 |
5 |
| O the days when I was young |
29-30 |
3 |
| Hunters are up and the ruddy fac'd morn, The |
30-31 |
4 |
| Jacky Bull, when bound for France |
31 |
2 |
| When gentle zephyr fans the ocean |
31-32 |
3 |
| Amo amas, I love a lass |
32-33 |
3 |
| When the blythe village-maid leads her flocks to the plains |
33 |
4 |
| Sun from the East tips the mountains with gold, The |
33-34 |
5 |
| Three daughters I have, and as prettily made |
34 |
4 |
| How imperfect is expression |
35 |
3 |
| Hark, dear girl, the message hear |
35-36 |
4 |
| I've kiss and I've prattled with fifty fair maids [sic] |
36 |
4 |
| To horse, ye jolly sportsmen |
36-38 |
10 |
| Dear Kathleen, you no doubt |
38 |
3 |
| One summer's eve, when Luna's beam |
38-39 |
3 |
| As through the grove, the other day |
39-40 |
3 |
| As passing by a shady grove |
40-41 |
3 |
| My love is gone to sea |
41 |
3 |
| Ye sons of Mars, attend |
41-42 |
3 |
| Hark! hark! the joy-inspiring horn |
42-43 |
4 |
| Wou'd you know, my good friends, what the honey-moon is |
43-44 |
3 |
| Says Plato why should man be vain? |
44 |
3 |
| See beneath yon bow'r of roses |
45 |
4 |
| Since love is the plan |
45 |
2 |
| Happy, harmless, rural pair |
46 |
3 |
| Lovely nymph now cease to languish |
46 |
4 |
| Linnet's nest with anxious care, A |
47 |
3 |
| Banish sorrow, grief and folly |
47-48 |
3 |
| Busy crew their sails unbending, The |
48 |
5 |
| I sing the beauties that adorn |
48-49 |
4 |
| Blow chearfully ye winds, till my Henry return |
49 |
|
| Last Valentine's day, when bright Phoebus shone clear |
49-50 |
6 |
| It was upon a Lammas night |
50-51 |
4 |
| Ye sportsmen draw near, and ye sportswomen also |
52 |
3 |
| Wind blew hard, the sea ran high, The |
52-53 |
6 |
| Say little foolish fluttering thing |
53-54 |
2 |
| How sweet the rosy blush of morn |
54 |
3 |
| From the man that I love, though my heart I disguise |
54-55 |
4 |
| Fields were green, the hills were gay, The |
55 |
3 |
| As my cow I was milking just now in the vale |
56 |
4 |
| On that fair bank where Lubin died |
56-57 |
4 |
| As down on Banna's banks I stray'd |
57-58 |
7 |
| Lord, what care I for mam or dad? |
58-59 |
5 |
| How stands the glass around? |
59 |
3 |
| Bright Phoebus has mounted the chariot of day |
60 |
3 |
| Oh! the days when I was young! |
60-61 |
3 |
| Young Willy woo'd me long in vain |
61 |
4 |
| Master I have, and I am his man, A |
61-62 |
6 |
| Gad a mercy! devil's in me |
62-63 |
2 |
| Hark! hark! sweet lass, the trumpet sounds |
63 |
4 |
| In vain to me the hours of care |
63-64 |
4 |
| Go! tuneful bird, that glads the skies |
64 |
2 |
| Ye gents, give ear to me, I pray |
64-66 |
6 |
| I dreamt I saw a piteous sight |
66-67 |
8 |
| Thus for men the women fair |
67 |
2 |
| Cease, tyrant of my flaming bosom |
67-68 |
5 |
| Wand'ring sailor ploughs the main, The |
68 |
3 |
| Behold on the brow the leaves olay in the breeze |
68-69 |
8 |
| Knights errant of old |
69-70 |
1 |
| De'il burn you a', quothe St. Andrew |
70 |
1 |
| Now, cotsplood, quoth St. David |
70 |
1 |
| St. Dennis di, mes chere amis |
70 |
1 |
| St. Patrick, hot as lightning with whiskey and old bumbo |
70 |
1 |
| When errant knights, in proud array |
70-71 |
2 |
| Thou soft flowing Avon! by the silver stream [sic] |
71 |
4 |
| Sun shone pale on mountain snow, The |
71-72 |
3 |
| Few years ago, in the days of my grannum, A |
72-73 |
3 |
| Aspasia rolls her sparkling eyes |
73 |
4 |
| Come bustle, bustle, drink about |
74 |
7 |
| What a charming thing's a battle |
74-75 |
2 |
| Ye fair possess'd of ev'ry charm |
75-76 |
3 |
| Ma chere amie, my charming fair |
76 |
3 |
| Mon cher ami, amis tres cher |
76-77 |
3 |
| I winna marry one mon but Sandy o'er the lee |
77 |
3 |
| How sweet is love when virtue guides |
77 |
3 |
| Now's the time for mirth and glee |
78 |
4 |
| Gallants attend, and hear a friend |
78-81 |
22 |
| One morning young Roger accosted me thus |
81 |
6 |
| What pleasures can compare |
82 |
5 |
| O Sandy, why leav'st thou thy Nelly to mourn? |
83 |
4 |
| Hark! forward away, my brave boys to the chace |
83-84 |
3 |
| That I might not be plagu'd with the nonsense of men |
84 |
6 |
| 'Twas at the break of day we spy'd |
85 |
4 |
| When Orpheus went down to the regions below |
86 |
4 |
| When I wake with painful brow |
86-87 |
6 |
| Here's to the maid of bashful fifteen |
87-88 |
4 |
| When running life's race |
88-89 |
8 |
| There was a jolly miller once liv'd on the river Dee |
89-90 |
4 |
| Blow high, blow low, let tempests tear |
90 |
3 |
| As on a summer's day |
91-92 |
8 |
| Jolly mortals fill your glasses |
92 |
3 |
| Of all the fine things that the gay celebrate |
92 |
4 |
| Dear Tom, this brown jug that now foams with mild ale |
93 |
3 |
| Say Phoebe why is gentle love |
93 |
3 |
| Dusky night rides down the sky, The |
94 |
4 |
| Go plaintive sounds! and to the fair |
94-95 |
8 |
| A courting I went to my love |
95-96 |
6 |
| Encompass'd in an angel's frame |
96 |
4 |
| West of th' old Atlantic, firm Liberty stands |
97-99 |
14 |
| When America first, at Heaven's command |
99-100 |
8 |
| Fame, let thy trumpet sound |
101-102 |
6 |
| When exil'd Freedom, forc'd to roam |
102-103 |
6 |
| At length war's sanguine scenes are o'er |
103-104 |
6 |
| Since first l' Ambuscade came here |
104-106 |
4 |
| Eventful point of time! |
106-108 |
8 |
| Ye sons of France, away to glory |
108-109 |
4 |
| In a chariot of light from the regions of day |
109-110 |
4 |
| O'er the vine-cover'd hills and gay regions of France |
110-112 |
6 |
| Lift aloft the trumpet |
112-113 |
2 |
| Hail, social converse! source of purest pleasure |
113-114 |
5 |
| Why give to your tyrants the laurel of fame? |
114-118 |
18 |
| Whilst in peaceful quarter's lying |
118-121 |
11 |
| My temples with clusters of grapes I'll entewine |
121 |
5 |
| At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still |
122-123 |
4 |
| Contented I am, and contented I'llbe |
123-124 |
11 |
| Her sheep had in clusters crept close to a grove |
124-125 |
4 |
| Friendship to every willing mind |
125-126 |
5 |
| God save---"The Rights of Man"" |
127-128 |
8 |
| Columbia! Columbia! to glory arise |
128-130 |
6 |
| Nimrods of the North had among themselves agreed, sir!, The |
130-132 |
10 |
| On the cliffs of the Andes, where virtue once reign'd |
133-134 |
10 |
| Aujourd'huy qua l'egalite |
134-136 |
6 |
| |
|
|
| Genius of France from his star begem'd throne, The |
136-138 |
6 |
| Now let rich music sound |
138-139 |
6 |
| Al hail! to Freedom's sons |
139-140 |
4 |
| Again by the spirit of Freedom invited |
140-141 |
4 |
| Don't blubber, dear Norah, I beg you'd be easy |
142-143 |
7 |
| Donna makoo makoonas! |
143-146 |
13 |
| When a nation's obsorb'd under Tyranny's chain |
146-147 |
8 |
| While tyranny marshals her minions around [sic] |
147-149 |
15 |
| Moon had climb'd the highest hill, The |
149-150 |
4 |
| While high the foaming surges rise |
150-151 |
3 |
| Crown'd with auspicious light |
151-153 |
6 |
| Power that created the night and the day, The |
153-154 |
4 |
| Hark! hHark! a joyous, cheering sound |
154 |
4 |
| Sweet briar grows in the merry green wood, The |
155-156 |
7 |
| Come all ye sons of song |
156-157 |
5 |
| O yes, my good people, draw near |
157-158 |
12 |
| No longer let kings and base princes decree |
158-159 |
4 |
| Unfold, Father Time, thy long records unfold |
159-160 |
4 |
| When our fathers came o'er |
160-162 |
10 |
| God save great Washington |
162-163 |
7 |
| Ye sons of Freedom hail the day |
164-165 |
8 |
| When the sails catch the breeze, and the anchor is weigh'd |
165-166 |
3 |
| Fairest flow'rets bring, The |
166-167 |
4 |
| Hark! hark! the joyful news is come |
167-168 |
4 |
| Americans rejoice! |
168-169 |
6 |
| From Susquehannah's utmost springs |
169-171 |
14 |
| While war's crimson carnage is drenching the plains |
171-173 |
14 |
| Why stands the tear in Mara's eye |
173-174 |
4 |
| Come all, ye lovely virgins, come |
174-175 |
3 |
| While landmen wander uncontroul'd |
175-177 |
7 |
| Fill! fill to Washington |
177-179 |
7 |
| Independence! how bright are the blessings you give! |
179 |
5 |
| Hail to the sun, whose circling ray |
180-181 |
8 |
| Great Washington! the hero's come |
181-182 |
8 |
| Hail! the first, the greatest blessing |
183-184 |
6 |
| Come muster, my lads, your mechanical tools |
184-186 |
10 |
| Hail, Freedom all hail! on the top of Mount Bleed |
186 |
3 |
| Ye patriots, listen to my strain |
186-188 |
8 |
| On the basis of fame Columbia stands |
188 |
5 |
| Come all ye sons of song |
189 |
5 |
| Let the foes of Great-Britain now wantonly brag |
190-191 |
6 |
| Let some in grog place their delight |
191-192 |
6 |
| Arise ye generous youths of France |
192-194 |
8 |
| Hail thou auspicious day |
194-196 |
9 |
| America's birth day bids Freemen arise |
196-197 |
6 |
| 'Tis done! the edict past by Heav'n decreed |
197-199 |
7 |
| To a mouldering cavern, the mansion of woe |
199-200 |
3 |
| To Heaven's empyreal height |
200-202 |
6 |
| Come, come, my friends, let's hail the day |
202 |
5 |
| Come, peace of mind, delightful guest |
202-203 |
4 |
| Whilst sycophantic trembling slaves |
203-205 |
5 |
| Red arm of slaughter is stretch'd o'er the plain, The |
205-206 |
5 |
| When first the mitre's wrath to shun |
206-208 |
6 |
| Who, and what are you, sceptred bullies? speak |
208-211 |
14 |
| Ye vile swinish herd in the sty of taxation |
211-213 |
12 |
| Tho' many a nymph may claim my song |
214 |
3 |
| Exulting beauty! phantom of an hour! |
214-215 |
3 |
| To thee, fair freedom, I retire |
215-216 |
5 |
| Angel of the darkest hue, An |
216 |
5 |
| When stranded on some distant coast |
217 |
4 |
| Pray kiss me, gentle Chloe cry'd |
217-218 |
4 |
| With thankful hearts and cheerful voice |
218-219 |
6 |
| Have I then committed treason? |
219-220 |
6 |
| Let music's sons rejoice |
220-221 |
5 |
| Thou lovely daughter of the sea |
221-222 |
3 |
| Delia. for thee I'd seek the foe |
222-223 |
6 |
| Hail lovely maid! Hail power divine! |
223-224 |
7 |
| When Freedom's sons, at Heav'ns command |
225-227 |
10 |
| Enthron'd in weeds of state |
227-228 |
5 |
| Hail! great Republic of the world |
229 |
6 |
| That seat of science Athens and earth's proud mistress Rome |
230 |
3 |
| Hail America hail, unrival'd in fame |
230-323 |
6 |