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

134
THE CHARMS OF MELODY.
The Frolicks of Queen Mab ;
SU^JG 3Y MR. COLLINS,
In lih cclelrated Et'.tertainment of the ' Brufli.'
WHEN fancy roves in a rambling dream,
With the poor and rich it is all the fame,
When fancy roves in a rambling dream,
And we feem to fleep lite tops, fir ;
C^een Mab ihe plays us a pleal'ant game,
Of the' fairy tribe the imperial dame,
C^ueen Mab fhe plays us a pleafant game,
As into our pates' fhe pops.Jir :
.Por there fhe drives her gig, asShatefpear tells the
tale, fir,
.With tricks and prants, a thoufand ways, our Hum-
bert to regale, fir.
Jfo iize as fmall as an agate-flone.
Or the feed i'lhe foil when 'tis newly fown,
'Iff iize as fmall as an agate-flone,
On a mifer's little finger ;
With a whip made out of a cricket's bone.
For fhe never drives like a lazy drone,
With a whip made out of a cricket's bone.
That her ponies may not linger :
In a chariot by a fquirrel fcdop'd, out of a nut
brown fhell, fir.
And a primrofe pipp'd for a riding hood, or elfe a
cowflip's bell, fir.
And in this ftate fhe's night by night,
jLike a little wicked wanton fpright,
And in this flate fhe nieht by night
Trots over lovers brains, fir ;
■ Who fancy, if the fleas but bite,
As they tumble and tofs in a piteous plight,
Who fancy, if the fleas but bite.
That Cupid gives the pain, fir :
Acd if by chance fhe tatesa fcampero'eraeourtier's
knee, fir,
. In fleep he fcrapes and bows aslow as at my lord's
levee, iir.
Then driving over a lady's lips,
, As a pifmire over a mole-hill fkips,
Then driving over a lady's lips.
She flraight on kifTes dreams, fir :
Or a lawyer's nofe, if acrofs fhe fkip^,
With his fhiftin'g, fhuiRing, quirks and quips,
' Or a lawyer's nofe, if acrofs fhe trips,
In what a plight he feems, fir !
'With fnout upturn 'd, like rooting fwine, he fnuffs
and fnor'ts to boot, fir,
.ii'or.O! whaticentis fo diving, asfmelling out a
; fuit, fir.
Nay, the parfon too, when he takes- a nap,
: As ftranger things ev'ry day may hap,
Nay, the parfon too, when he takes a nap,
After dinner, pipe and ale, fir ;
She will fometimes give a tickling tap,
On the rofy cheek of the ret^rend chap.
She will fometimes give a tickling tap.
With a little tythe pig's tail, fir ;
Then fleeves of lawn, the fairy fpright, prefents the
pulpit fmiter,
'And, io I Jiis night-cap in a thrice is turn'd into a
^ mitre.
Then acrafsthe neck of a blade fhe trots,
Who hoflilei plans like Csefar plots,
Then acrofs the neck of a blade flie trots.
Who dreams of war's alarms, 'fir ;
Of cutting Frenchmen and Spaniards throats,
Of red-hot balls, and of batt'ring boats,
Of cutting Frenchmen and Spaniards throats.
And quartering legs and arms, fir :
And when at laft in both his ears, the drum fhe
founds amain, fir,
' He ftarts, and wakes, and prays, ..gnd fwears, _and
th«^ to fleep again,: fir.
Thus afleep or awaka, by night or day,
Kowe'er we labour, cr v.'atch, or pray.
Thus afleep or awrike, by night or day,
The ruling pafnon fways us : ^
And a Will-o'-ihe-v.'ifp nov/ leads the way.
By which like llieep we are lur'd aflray,
And a Will-o'-the-wifp now leads the way,
Or a bugbear now clifmays us •
Yet, though by turns we are highly pleas'd, or in a
, piteous taking.
At leafl may all our pleafing dreams be realiz'd
when waking.
Smiling Grog.
SMILING grog is the failor's beil hope, his fheet
anchor.
His compafs, his cable, his log,
That gives him a heart which life's cares cannot
canker,
Tho* dangers around him
Unite to confound him,
He braves them and tips off his grog :
'Tis grog:, only grog,
Is his rudder, his compafs, his cable, his log -,
The failor's flieet aiichpr is gr-og. '
What though he to a friend, in^rufi,
, His prize money convey.
Who to his bond of faith unjuft.
Cheats him and runs away ;
■ What's to be done ? he vents a curfe
'Gainfl all falfe hearts afhore,
■Of the remainder clears his purfe.
And then to fea for more.
■There- fmUir.g grog , ISc^
What thoiigh his girl, who- often fwore
To know no other charms.
He finds, when he returns afhore,
Clafp'd in a rival's arms :
What's to be done ? He vents a curfe,
And feeks a kinder fhe,
Dances, gets groggy, clears his purfe.
And goes again to fea.
To croflfes born — flill trufting there,
The waves lefs faithlefs that the fair ;
There into toils to rufh again.
And ftormy pearls brave — what then ?
Smiling grog, &fc.
Tbe Soldier's Grave.
OF all fenfations pity brings,
To. proudly fwell the ample heart.
From which the willing forrow fprings,
In others grief that bears a part :
.-Of all fad fympathy's delights.
The manly dignity of grief,
A joy in mourning that excites.
And gives the anxious mind relief--
Of thefe would you the feeling know,
Moft gcn'rous, noble, greatly brave,
That ever taught a heart to glow,
'Tis the tear that bedews a foldier's grave.
For hard and painful is his iot.
Let dangers come, he braves them;all : .
Valiant perhaps to be forgot.
Or undiflinguifh'ddoom'd to fall;
Yet wrapt in confcious worth fecure.
The world, that now forgets his toil.
He views from a retreat obfcure,
And quits it with a willing fmile :
Then trav'ler one kind drop beflow,
'Twere graceful pity, nobly ^b rave ;
Nought ever taught the heart to glow.
Like the tear that bedews, the foldier's grave.