Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Charms of melody, or, Siren medley

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THE
CHARMS OF MELODY,
G R
SIREN MEDLEY.
The Plan of the Publidier is -to embody in one Gran.l Folio Volume, lU the Songs, ancieut-and modern, in the En'glifh'La'n^a^e '}
formi-ig a Univerl'al Magazine ot' Lave, Seuiiniental, War,, Hunting, Bacchanalian, Sea, ^nd tolitical'SoDgs ; as well as Old EnfU&
IriiTi asid Scotch Ballad?, Legendaries, &c. &c. To which will be added,. a corliplete Index. o >
Within a Mile of Edinboro* Town.
'rj~^WAS within a mile of Edinboro' town,
X In the rofy time of tlie year.
Sweet flow,S;s did bloom, and the grafs was down,
And each (hepherd woo'd his dear-
Bonny Jockey, blitlie and gay,
KilVd his Jenny making hay,
The laflie blulh'd, arid frowning cry'd, no, no, it will not do;
I cannot, cannot, ma.' noti ma' not, wo' not buckle to.
Jockey was x waf,who never would wed I
Tho' long hq.had foUow'd the lafs;
Contented flie eiirn'd and ate her brown bread,
And merrily turn'd up the grafs.
Bonny Jockey, blithe and free,
Won her heart right merrily. The laffie blulh'd, ® c
But when he vow'd he would make her his bride,
Tho' his flocks and herds were not few.
She gave him her hand and a kils befide,
And vow'd flie'd for ever be true.
Bonny Jockey, blithe and free,
Won her heart right merrily,
No more at church (he frowning cry'd, No, No, & c.
Kalty Flannigan.
AT the dead of the night, by whiflcey infpif'd.
And pretty Katty Flannigan my fenies liad fir'd,
I tapp'd at her window, and thus fhe began,
! what the devil are you at, begone you naughty man.
1 gave her A look, oh ! as (ly as a thief.
Or when hungry I'd view a fine firloin of beef ;
Tho' my heart is red hof, , faid I, yet cold is my (kin.
So pretty Mrs. Ttiinn'igart, ah ! won't you let me in.
She open'd the door, I fat down by the fire.
And loon was reliev'd from the wet, cold, and mire;
Ipleas'd her To mightily, that e'er it was day,
1 ftolepoor Katty's tender heart, and then I tripp'd away.
Flow'r of the Foreft.
SEVERE the pangs of (liglnted love,
Each hill aiid dale my plaint fhallring;
And as the woouliind wilds I rove,'
Sweet Philomel flull hear mefin^,
Flow'r of the fored is my dear,
Sweet as the violet of the vale.
Her vows of love as iwctt to hear.
Yet tramicnt as the palling gale.
lieneath a willow o'er the brook,
I tilent fii with folded areris.
And on the heedltfs ftceam 1 look,
While Heav'n remiaJ, me of her ciiarm',
Fluw'r of the forelV, Sec.
The Medley of Rogues.
THRO' all the employments of life,
Each neighbour nbufes his brother ;
Rog-.ie and Whore tbcy call huil>and and wife-
Each profeflion beragues one another :
Tho Priert calls t'ne Lawyer a cheat—
The Lawyer be-knaves tfie Divine;
And the Satefman becaufe he's lb great,
Thinks his trade as hone1l-as mine.
. '■ ■ -Beggar's Optra.
Banks of Banna,
SHEPHERDS, r have loft my Love,
Have you leen my Anna •'
Pride of ev'ry iTiady grovfe.
On the banks of Banna.
'I for her my home forfook,
Near yon mifty mountain ;
Left my flock, my pipe, my crook,
Green-wood, (hade, and fountain. ,
Never (hall Ifee them more.
Till with her returning ;
Ev'ry joy of life is o'er.
Mirth is chang'd to mourning.
Whither is'my charmer flown !
Shfpherds, muft we fever!
Woo is me 1 I fear (he's gone,
Alas ! from me for ever.
Parody on the Banks of Banna.
SHEPHERDS, I have lo(l my waift,
Have you feen my body ?
Saerilic'd to modern tafte,
I'm quite a hoddy doddy.
Never (I'.all I fee it more.
Till common I'enfc returning;
My body to mv legs reftore.
Then I (hall ceafe from mourning.
For fafliion I that part forfook.
Where fages place the belly,
*Tis loft, and I have not a nook
For cheefe-cakes, tarts, or jellies.
Never fliall I, &c
Bonny Jem of Aberdeen.
THE tuneful lavrocks cheer the grove.
And Iweetlyimellsthe fummer green;
Now o'er the mead I love to rove,
Wi' bonny Jern of Aberdeen.
Whene'er we fit beneath the broom.
Or wander o'er the lea.
He's always wooing, wooing, wooin j
Afilways wooing me.
He's frc(h and gay as flow'rs in May,
The blitheft tad that's on the green,
How fweet the time will pafs away,
Wi' bonny Jem of Aberdeen.
Wi' joy I leave my fii:ner's cot,
Wi' ilka fport of glen or green.
Well pleas'd to (liare the humble lot,
Of bonny Jem of Aberdeen.
Whene'er we fit, 8:c.
Whene'er we fit, ice.
The Advice.
NEVER be one of thofe fad filly fellows.
Who always are lhappilh,.fufpicijDii3 and jealous,
Who live but to doubt,
To pine and to pout.
To take one to tafk,
--.„ , , ,"~ --5^araine and a(k,
lvi'«Ha''Fii&ijj(E^ejolsqueftions to find fomething ott.
Sti'"'' •■•■■"■ O never liej (kc.
PUBLISHED at W
FQED-ROTV, Dublin