| First Line |
Page |
Verses |
| Brave sons of the West, your deeds of renown (fl) |
121 |
5 |
| O'er the trident of Neptune Britannia had boasted (fl) |
122 |
4 |
| How plaintive the captive's sad sigh meets the breeze (fl) |
122 |
2 |
| Whether a sailor or not, for a moment avast (fl) |
123 |
3 |
| When 'tis night, and the mid-watch is come (fl) |
123 |
2 |
| When Adam was station'd in Eden's fair bower (fl) |
124 |
8 |
| Bards of the Hudson may sing of the melon, The (fl) |
125 |
4 |
| Farewell ye groves, and chrystal fountains (fl) |
125 |
1 |
| O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west (fl) |
126 |
8 |
| As I strayed o'er a common on Cork's rugged border (fl) |
127 |
6 |
| Rose had been wash'd---just wash'd in a shower, The (fl) |
128 |
5 |
| Oh, weep not, sweet maid, nor let sorrow oppress thee (fl) |
128 |
4 |
| In the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining (fl) |
129 |
4 |
| When absent from her whom my soul holds most dear (fl) |
129 |
2 |
| Goddess of freedom borne down by oppression, The (fl) |
130 |
5 |
| Ah! tell me ye swains,have ye seen my Pastora (fl) |
131 |
3 |
| Ere around the huge oak that o'ershadows yon mill (fl) |
131 |
3 |
| Our Congress lately made a bank (fl) |
132 |
5 |
| John Bull for pastime took a prance (fl) |
133 |
5 |
| Potatoes grow at Limerick and Beef at Ballymore (fl) |
134 |
9 |
| Och! long life to the girls who revive without pother (fl) |
135 |
5 |
| 'Twas you, Sir, twas you Sir (fl) |
135 |
2 |
| Oh! blest was the hour (fl) |
136 |
4 |
| Echo, tell me while I wander (fl) |
136 |
3 |
| Ah! who is that, whose thrilling tones (fl) |
137 |
3 |
| O! come away! my soldier boy (fl) |
137 |
2 |
| Sir Jerry Go-Nimble was lame of a leg (fl) |
138 |
3 |
| Day is departed, and round from the cloud, The (fl) |
139 |
3 |
| I came from a land far away, far away (fl) |
139 |
2 |
| When women warm us (fl) |
140 |
5 |
| Young May moon is beaming, love, The (fl) |
140 |
2 |
| Why, fair maid, in ev'ry feature (fl) |
141 |
4 |
| Fair Ellen like a lily grew (fl) |
141 |
2 |
| Here, a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling (fl) |
142 |
3 |
| Fresh blows the gale, soon under way (fl) |
142 |
2 |
| Should auld acquaintance be forgot (fl) |
143 |
5 |
| O my love's like the red, red rose (fl) |
143 |
2 |
| Return enraptur'd hours (fl) |
144 |
3 |
| Ma Chere Amie, my charming fair (fl) |
144 |
2 |