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

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THE
CHARMS OF MELODY,
OR
SIREN MEDLEY.
The Plan of the Puhlilher is to embody in one Grand Folio Volume, all (he Songs, ancient and modern, worth preferving, in the
Englifh Language; forming an Univerfal Maia^jine of Love, Sentimental, War, Hunting, Drinking, Sea, and Political Song'; as weU
as Old tn.'lidi, Irirfi, Scotch and German Ballads, Legendaries, &c. To which >vill be added, a. complete Index.
Old Towler.
BRIGHT Chanticleer proclaims the davzn,
And fpangles deck tlie thorn ;
The lowing herds now quit the lawn,
The lark fprings from the corn ;
Dogs, huntfmen, round the windows tKroBg
Fleet Towler leads the cry,
Arife! the burden of their long.
This day a flag muft die.
With a hey, ho chivy,
Hark forward, hark forward, tantivy.
With a hey, ho chivy.
Hark forward", hark forward, tantivy.
Arife, &c.
The cordial takes its merry round,
The laugh and joke prevail.
The huntfman blows a jovial found,
The dogs fnuff up the gale :
The upland winds they fweep along.
O'er fields, thro' brakes they fly ;
The game is rouz'd, too true the long.
This day a ftag must die.
With a hey, ho, &c.
Poor ftag! the dogs thy haunches gore.
The tears run down thy face;
The huntfman'spleafure is no more,
His joys were in the chace.
Alike the fportfmen of the town.
The virgin game in view.
Are full content to run them down.
Then they in turn purfue.
With their hey, ho, &c.
Sweet Lilies of the Valley.
Ij'ER barren hills and flow'ry dales,
O'er feas and dillant ihores ;
With merry fong and jocund tales,
I've pafs'd fome pleafant hours.
Tho' wand'ring thus I ne'er couldfind
A girl like blithfome Sally,
Who picks and culls and cries aloud,
" Sweet lilies of the valley."
From whiftling o'er the harrow'd turf.
From nefling of each tree,
I chofe a foldier's life to wed.
So focial, gay and free.
Yet tho' the laffes love as well,
And often try to rally,
Ivione pleafes me like her who cries
" Sweet lilies of the valley '*
I'm now return'd of late difcharg'd,
To ufe my native toil,
From fighting in my country's caufe.
To plough my country's foil :
I care not which, with either pleas'd.
So I pofTefs my Sally,
That little merry nymph that cries
" Sweet lilies of the valley."
I figh while I tug at the Oar,
/^H ! think on my fate, once I freedom enjoy 'd,
^^ Was as happy as happy could be ;
But pleafure is fled, even Jiope is deftroy'd.
A captive, alas ! on the fea :
I was ta'en by the foe— 'twas the fiat of fate.
To tear me from her I adore !
When thought bring* to mind my once happy ftate,
I figh— while I tug at the oar.
Hard — hard is my fare! oh, how galling my cliaia !
My life's fteer'd by mifery's chart ;
And though 'gainft my tyrants I fcorn to complain.
Tears gufli forth to eafe my full heart :
I difdain e'en to flirink, tho' I feel the fharp lafh.
Yet my hreaft bleeds for her I adore I
While around me the unfeeling billows will dafii,
I figh — and Hill tug at the oar.
How fortune deceives! I had pleafure in tow.
The port where fhe dwelt wee'd in view ;
But the wifh'd nuptial morn was o'er clouded with
woe.
And, dear Anne, I was hurried from you :
Our fhallop was boarded, and I borne away.
To hehold my dear Anna no more :
But defpair wafts my fpirits, my form feel decay,
He figh'd — and expir'd at the oar.
I
Spanking Jack.
SPANKING Jack was fo comely, fo brifk, and
fo jolly,
Tho' winds blaw great guns ftill he'd whiftle and
fing^;
Jack lov'd his friend, and was true to his Molly,
And, if honour gave greatncfs, was great as a king.
One night as we drove with two reefs in our fore-
fail.
The feud came on low'ring from off a lee fiiore.
Jack went up aloft, to hand ihe top-mainfail,
A Ipray wafti'd him offand we ne'er faw him more.
But grieving' s a folly, fo let us be jolly,
Jjwe'-ve troubles at fia, boys, ■we've pkafuris
onjhor^.
Whiffling Tom ftill of mifchief and fun in the
middle,
Thro' life in all weathers at random would jog.
He'd laugh, and he'd fing, and he'dplay on ihe'fiddie.
And faig, with an air, his allowance of-grog ;
Long fide of a Don in the Terrible Frigate,
As yard-arm and yard-arm we lay off the fliore,
In and out whiffling Tom did fo caper and jig ii.
That his head v,as fiiot off, and we ne'er faw hiin
more.
But grieviitg's a folly.
.w^
FVBLISHED at N°-IO, BEDFORD-ROW. Dublin;