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

Numb. 5 2 ]
THE
CHARMS OF MELODY,
OR
SIREN MEDLEY,
All amongft the Leaves fo green, O.
Sung in the Comic Opera of ' The Caftle of Atidalufia.''
r
[N the foreft here hard by,
A bold robber late was I,
Sword and blunderbufs in hand,
When I bid a trav'ler ftand ;
Zounds deliver up your cafh,
Or ftraight I'll pop and flafll.
All among the leaves fo green, O ;
Damme, fir,
If you ftir,
Sluice your veins,
Blow your brains,
Hey down.
Ho down,
Derry, derry down.
All amongft the leaves fo .green, O.
Soon I'll quit the roving trade.
When a gentleman I'm made ;
Then fo fpruce and debonnaire,
'Gad, I'll court a lady fair ;
How I'll prattle, tattle, chat.
How I'll kifs her, and all that,
All among the leaves fo green, O !
How d'ye do ?
How are you ?
Why fo coy ?
Let us toy,
Key down.
Ho down,
Derry, derry down,
All amongft the leaves fo green, O-
But ere old and grey my pate,
I'll fcrape up a inug eftate ;
With my nimblenefs of thumbs,
I'll foon butter all my crumbs.
When I'm juftice of the peace.
Then I'll matter many a leafe,
All amongft the leaves fo green, O.
Wig profound,
•Belly round.
Sit at eafe,
Snatch the fees,
Hey down.
Ho down,
Derry, derry down.
All amongft the leaves fo green, O.
You the Poiut may carry.
Sung in the Farce of * The Fosr SMier.^
YOU the point may carry.
If a while you (arry ;—
But for you,
I tell you true,
No, you I'll never marry.
Tou. the point, ^c.
Care, our fouls difowning.
Punch, our lorrows drowning,
Laugh and love.
And ever prove,
'Joys our wiflies crowning.
Care, our fouls, Esftf.
To the 'church I'll hand her ;
Then thro' the world I'll wander ;
I'll fob and figh
Until I die,
A poor forfaken gander.
To the church, lSc<.
Each pious prieft, fince Mofes,
One mighty truth difclofes ;
You're never vex't,
If this the text.
Go fuddle all your nofes. .
Each pious pr'ieji,, ^c, '
A Soldier I am for a Lady.
Sung in the Comic Opera of ' TU Caftle of Anialupa^
A SOLDIER I am for a lady,
What beau was e'er arra'd completer ?
When face to face.
Her chamber the place,
I'm able and willing to meet her.
Gad's curfc, my dear laffes, I'm ready,
To give you all fatisfaftion ;
I am the man.
For the crack of your fan,
Tho' I die at your feet in the aftion.
Your bibbins may beat up a row-de-dow.
Your lap dog may out with his bow, woW, wow:.
The challenge is love,
I take up the glove,
Tho' I die at your feet in the adion.