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

THE CHARMS OF MELODY.
All fierce and military.
Sung in the Comic Opera of ' Patrick in Prujfia^
ALL fierce and military, '
Crofs bufF-beit and regimental new,
With high cap rough and hairy,
At our grand review,:
With fpur and boor,^
Adorn the foot,
To grace the field, while pateraroes ftioot.
Fire and Imoke,
All a joke.
Bullets whiz,
Bully Quiz
EreiS as a fturd/ oafe.
On my charger prancing,
Kat, tat, tat, his hoofs fhall beat the ground ;
Great glove, and broad fword glancing.
Salute the ladies round :
In the grand pas rear.
Up the pavement tear,
Lite a noble col'nel, at my men I fwear.
Hey, they fight.
To the right.
Keep the rank.
Guard the flank.
Zounds, I'll foon be a brigadier.
The Boys of the Blade.
Sung in ibc Comic Opera of ' Patrick in PruJ/!a.'
SO chearful and happy, we boys of the blade,
Prepare all to meet on the ihining parade;
Then rub, ~
Then fcrub,
Your muflretSjyour belts, and your bayonets bright.
We'll rub.
We'll fcrub.
Our mufkets, out 'belts, and our bayonets bright.
[n fpatterdafti white, as he throws up his leg,
Each rank and file marches a bold Scanderbeg;
The ladies admiring.
Our charging and firing,
'Gur Handing and kneeling.
To right and left wheeling.
A fmile from a woman's a foldier's delight,
They love as we love 'em, and for 'em we fight;
We'll jovially fing.
Drink a health to our king,
And make the camp rii>g, ^c.
I have a I-over of my own.
Sung in the Comic Opera of ' The Cajlk cf ylnJaluJia.'
I HAVE a lover of my own.
So kind and true is he ;
A.S true, I love but him alone,
And he loves itone bat me.
I boaft not of his velvet down,
Ori cheeks of roiy hue,
His fpicy breath, his ringlets brown-;
I prize the heart that's true.
So to all elfe I muft fay nay ;
They only fret and teaze :
?ear youth, 'tis you alone that may
Come court jne when you pleafe.
[ play'd my love a thoufand tricks.
In feeming coy and fliy ;
Twas only, ere my heart I'd fix,
I thought his love to try.
I
I am, cry'd Apollo.
AM," cry'd Apollo, when Daphne he woo'd.
And panting for breath the coy virgin purfu'd.
When his wifdom in manner moft ample expreft,
The long lift of graces his godfliip poffeft.
" I'm the god of Tweet fong, and infpirer of lays."
Nor for lays, nor fweet fong, the fair fugitive ftays.
"I'm the god of the harp— ftop.niy faireft" in vain-.
Nor ths harp, nor the harper, could bring her again.
BALLAD,
The Children in the Wood,
Mr- Addifon, in fpeaking of this incomparable Ballad, amoneft
odier things in its praife, fays, " Tho' the Language i, mean„
the thoughts are natural, and therefore cannot fall to pleafe
thofe who are not judges of Languar;e, or thofe who,not-
withftandmg ll,=y are judges of Language, have a true
- and unprejudiced taft e of Nature. The condition, fpeech
and behaviour ot the dying Parents, with the age, inno-
■ " cence and oiftrels of iheChildren, are fet forth in fuch ten-
; " der circumflances, that iti. Impcffible for a Reader of com-
' " mon humanity not to be affefted with them. As for the
" circumaance of the RMn-rcJ-ErcaJ}, it U indeed a litUe
" poetical ornament; and to (hew the genius of the Author
" amida all his fimpllclty, isjull the' fame kind of fiftion
•' which one of the greateft Latin Poets (Horace! has mad<.
■ ",ufe of upon a parallel occafion.'
cts (Horace) has made
.S/if(5a/sr— No. 85.
NOW ponderwell, you parents dear,
The words wh'ch I fhall write ;
A doleful flory you fhall hear.
In time brought forth to light.
A gentleman of good account
In Norfolk liv'd of late,
Whofe wealth and riches did furmount
Moft men of his eftate.
Sore fick he was, and like to die.
No help that he could have;
His wife by him as fick did lie,
And both pofTefs'd one grave.*
No love between thefe two was loft.
Each was to th'other kind;
In love they liv'd, in love they dy'd.
And left two babes behind.
The one a fine and pretty boy.
Not paffing three years old ;
Th' other a girl, more young than he,
And made in Beauty's mold.
The father left his little fon.
As plainly doth -appear.
When he to perfect age fiaould come,
. Three hundred pounds a year ;
And to his little' daughter Jans
Five hundred pounds in gold.
To be paid down on marriage day,
Which might not be controul'd:
But if the children chance to die.
Ere they to age llnould come.
Their uncle ftiould poffes their wealth.;
For fo the will did run.