Broadside ballad entitled 'Adieu, My Native Land, Adieu'

Transcription

ADIEU, MY NATIVE LAND, ADIEU.

This song can only be had at the Poet's Box, Price One Penny,

AIR?farewell to Albion's Heather Hills.

Adieu, my native land, adieu,

The vessel spreads her swelling sails;
Perhaps I never more may view

Your fertile fields, your flowery dales.
Delusive hope can charm no more;

Far from the faithless maid I roam,
Unfriended seek some foreign shore,

Unpitied leave my peaceful home.

Adieu, my native, &c.

Farewell dear village, oh, farewell;

Soft on the gale thy mnrmer dies;
I hear thy solemn evening bell,

Thy spires yet glad my aching eyes.
Though freqent falls the dazzling tear,

I scorn to shrink from fate's decree;
And think not, cruel maid, that e'er

I'd heave another sigh for thee.

Adieu, my native, &c.

In vain through shades of frowning night,

Mine eyes thy rocky coast explore;
Deep sinks the fiery orb of light,

I view thy beacons now no more.
Rise! billows, rise! blow hollow winds!

Nor night, nor streams, nor death I fear,
Unfriended, bear me hence to find

That peace which fate denies me here.

Adien, my natixe, &c.

The Poet is a general Job Printer, and executes all orders
with neatness, beauty and dispatch. The Poet assists all parties
in making up any kind of printing they may require done?such
as Invoices, Circulars, Bill Headings, Prices Current, Custom
House Forms, Excise Forms, Bills of Lading, Law Papers, Cer-
tificates, Pulpit Notices, Shipping Cards, &c.,. while all orders
receive the Poet's strictest attention. For cheapness the Poet
defies the world; for example he prints 100 Raffle Tickets for Is,

The Poet has the best songs in the world. The collection is
so superb that it will actually do your eyes good to see them.
Come, then, come away, and see them. Along with songs, the
Poet has many a nic-nack, such as Laces for Id the dozen ; Ink
for Id. the bottle; Soap for Lovers, bearing the lover's charm, for
Id. the cake ; Braces for Id. the pair ; Bell's Matches, or the
large sliders, for One Farthing the box. The Poet's Blacking is
only One [   ] the packet ; its equal is nowhere to be had
except in the Box.

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