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

THE
CHARMS OF MELODY,
O R
SIREN MEDLEY.
The Plan of tlie Publiflier is to embody in one Grand Folio Volume, all the Songs, ancient and modern, in th(
forming a Univerlal Magazine of Love, Sentimental, War, Hunting, Bacchanalian, Sea, and Political Songs ; as
Irift and Scotch Ballads, Legendaries, &c. &c. To which will he added, a complete Index.
ancient and modern, in the Englilh Language,
well as Old Eng&i,
Green grow the Rallies — O.
There's nought but care on ev'ry hand,
In ev'ry hour that paffes— O,
What fignifies the life of man,
If t'were not for the lafles — O.
Green grow the rafhes— O,
Green grow the raphes — O,
The blytheft hours I ever fpenc.
Were fpent among, the lafles- O.
The worldly wife will riches prize,
And riches ftill may fly them — O,
And if at laft they grafp them faft,
Their hearts cannot enjoy them — O. Chorus,
Give me a happy hour at e'en,
My arms about my deary — O,
And wardly cares and warldly men,
May all gang tapfey tiney — O. Chorus.
All ye fo wife that fneer at this,
Ye're nought but fenfelefs afles — O.
The wifeft man the warld e'er faw,
He dearly lov'd the lafTes—O. Chorus.
Auld nature fwears the lonely dears,
Her nobleft work fhe claffes — O,
Her 'prentic'd hand fhe try'd on man,
And then ihe made the lafles — O. Chorus.
Bums,
Poor Tom Bowling.
HERE, a (heer hulk lies poor Tom Bowling,
The darling of our crew ;
No more he'll hear the tempefl; howling,
For Denth has broach'd him too ;
His form was ot the manliefl: beauty —
His heart was kind and foft ;
Faithful below he di:i his duty,
And now he's gone aloft.
Tom nev«r from his word departed ;
His virtues were fo rare.
His friends were many, and true hearted—
His Poll was kind and fair ;
And then he'd fing ib blithe and jolly.
Ah ! many's the time and oft ;
But mirth is turn'd to melancholy —
For Tom is gone aloft.
Yet flnall poor Tom find pleafant weather.
When HE who all commands
Shall- give, to call life's crew together.
The wor-d — to pipe, all hands !
Thus Death, whq kings and tars difpatch^s.
In vain poor Tom has doff 'd ;
For tho' his body's under hatches,
His foul is gone aloft. Dihdin.
The Tar for all Weathers.
ISAIL'D from the Downs in the Nancy ;
My jib ! how it fmack'd thro' the breeze!
She's a vefl"el as tight to my fancy.
As ever iail'dihro' the fait feas :
Then adieu to the white cliffs of Britain,
Our girls, and our dear native fhore;
For if fome hard rock we Ihould fplit on.
We fliall never fee them any more :
But failors were born for all weathers.
Great guns let it blow high, blow low;
Our duty keeps us to our tethers.
And where the gale drives we muft go>
When we enter'd the Gut of Gibraltar,
I verily though fhe'd have funk ;
For the v.'ind then began to fo alter.
She yaw'd juft as tho'f fhe'd been drunk :
The i'quall tore the main-fail to ihivers —
Helm a-weather, the hoarfe boatfwain cries ;
Bi'ace thefore-fail athwart — fee, fhe quivers,
As rhro' the rough tempeft fhe flies.
Bn-t faihrs, Ss'f.
The florm came on thicker and fafter.
As black juft as pitch was the fky ;
When truly a doleful difafter
Befell three poor failors and I :
Ben Bluntline, Sam Shroud, and Dick Handfail,
By a blaft that came furious and hard.
Thus while we were furling the main-fail.
Were ev'ry foul fwept fr&m the yard :
But failors, &Ci
Poor Ben, Sam and Dick, crp'd pecavi, —
As for I, at the rifk of my neck,
While they funk down in peace to Old Davy,
Caught a rope, and fo landed on deck ;
Well, what would you have? we were ftranded —
And out ot a fine jolly crew,
Of three hundred that fail'd, never landed,
But I, and (I think) twenty-two !
'But failors, iSc
After thus we at fea had mifcarry'd.
Another guefs way fat the wind ;
For to England I came and got marry 'd
To a lafs that was comely and kind :
But whether for joy or vexation.
We know not for what we are born ;
Perhaps I may find a kind Ration —
Perhaps 1 may touch at Cape Horn.
Sailors, fJ'c
Bibdin..
PUBLISHED at N°- lO, BEDFORD-ROW, Dublin,
Where the preceding Numbers can be had.