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

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Numb.5'7
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THE
CHARMS OF
LODY,
O R
SIREN MEDLEY,
The Plan of the Pntlifher is to embody in one Grand Folio Volume, all the Songs, ancient and modern, in the Englifli I^anguaee
•worth preferving — forming a Univerfal Magazine of Love, Sentimental,War, Hunting, Bacchanalian, Humourous, Sea and Political
Songs; as well as Old Eaglilh, IriDi, and Scotch Ballads, Legendaries, &c, &c. To which will be added, a complete Index.
The Cottage on the Moor.
Sung in the Pantomime of ' Nioie.'
MY mam is no more, and my dad in his grave,
Little orphans are fifter and I, fadly poor ;
Induftry otir wealth, and no dwelling v:e have,
Bui yon neat little cottage, that ftgnds on the moor
The lark's early fong does to labour invite,
Contented we juft fceep the wolf from the door ;
And, Fhoebus retiring, trip home viith delight,
To our neat littlecottage, thatflandson the moor.
Our meals are but homely, mirth fweeter.s the cheer,
Affection's our inmate, tlie gueft we adore.
And heart-eafe, and health, make a palace appear,
Of our neat little cottage, thatflandson the. moor.
G
Come, chear up, my Lads.
OME, chear up, my lads, 'tis to glory v/e fleer,
To add lom.ething nev.' to this wonderful year ;
To lionour we call you, not ,prefs you like flaves;
For who are fo free as the fons of the waves ?
Heart of oak are our lliips.
Heart of oak are our men ;
We always are ready.
Steady, boys, ileady ;
'vVe'll Sght, and we'll conquer, again, and again.
Ve ne'er fee our foes, but w-e wifli them to Hay;
They never fee us, but they wiih us away;
If they, run, why v/e follow, and run them afhore;
For if they won't fight us, what can we do more.
Heart of oak, Is'c.
They fwear they'll invade us, thefe terrible foes,
They frighten cur women, our children and beaux;
Butfhould their iiat bottoms in darknels get o'er.
Still Britons they'll find to receive them on ftiore.
Heart of oak, iSc.
We'll ftill make them run, and we'll fllll make them
fret,
In fpite of the devil, or Ih-ufTel's gazette :
Then, chear up, my lads, with one voice let us fing.
Our foldiers, our failors, our llateimen, and king.
Heart of oak, iS'c.
SONG.
A H ! tell me no more, my dear girl, with a figh,
■^*- That a coldnefs will creep o'er mj heart ;
That a fullen indifF'rcnce will dwell on my eye.
When thy beauty begins to depart.
Shall thy graces, O, Cynthia, that gladden my day,
And brighten the gloom of the night.
Till life be extinguifti'd, from memory Ilray,
V\ hich it ought to revive with delight?
Upbraiding, fhall Gratitude fay with a tear,
" That no longer I think of thofe charms
" Which gave to my bofom fuch rapture fincere,
" And faded at length in my arms?"
V/hy, yes! it may happen, thou aamfel divine-
To be honeft— I freely declare.
That e'en norv to thy con-jerje fo much I incline,
I've already forgot thou zrt fair.
Dr. Walcot.
The conftant Lafs.
OUR Molly has never been fal.fe, fhe declares,
Since laft time we parted atWapping old Hairs;
When I fwore that I flili v/ould continue the fame,
And gave you the 'bacco-box — mark'd with my name
; When I pafs'd a whole fortnight between decks with
you ,
Did I e'er give a bufs, Tom, to one of the crew ?
To be ufeful and kind to my Thomas I ftaid,
For his trowfers I walh'd, and his bumbo i matie.
Though you threaten'd laft Sunday to walk in the
• mall
With Sufan, from Depford, and BiUingfgate Sail,
In lilence I flood, your unkindnefs to hear.
And only upbraided my Tom with' a tear.
Still faithful and fond from thefiift of my life,
Tho" I boaft rot the name, I've the truth of a wife.
For fallehood in wedlock too often is priz'd —
And the heart that isconllantfhouidnoi be tlc-fpis'd.
Arky.
PUBLISHED at tr-lO, BEDFORD-ROW, Dublin,
Where the preceding Numbers can be liad.