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

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THE CHARMS OF MELODY.
The Patent Speculator.
SINCE patents are now all tlie go,
Invention without them is flouted,
Without int'reft to gain thena you know
Poor Genius is prefently routed.
But that I can purchafe at court,
And for confcience proof belts for the law,
1 quickly a patent will fport,
And prove it a je ns fcai quoi.
Fal, lal, &c.
Then a plan for a famous canal,
D'ye fee, I have formed in my patt,
Vv'hich (hall ferve, as I'll prefently tell.
To reach frotn hlpckwall to the Straight.
I've bullet-proof wniftcoats for beaux,
' So wonderous fertile my brain is.
And fince they fcarce wear any clothes,
I've water-proof mufiin for ladies.
Fal, lal, &c.
Then for fpfndihrifts I've epaulet ftraps.
To prevent all attacks on the fhoulder.
Thus euarded from bailiffs fly taps.
They might then ftrut about and look bolder.
But of all tliefe inventions there's one,
(It's merit to own none can falter,
For cornfac^ors the fecret is done,) ♦- .
And that is a fnug patent halter.
Fal, lal, &c.
Erin Go Bragb.
COME pufh round the whiikey be merry and gay.
Let the devil burn care and drive forrow away ;
■For mirth and good humour is an Irimman's law.
So here's friendfliip my jewel, and Enn go hragh.
'Midft a circle of friends we all forrow defy.
If a tear drops from one why we wet t other eye,
Thus grief in our hearts ne'er as yet made a flaw,
So let's join hand in hand and fing Erin go brngh.
Yet tho' oft with laughter the table doth roar.
We think, 'midft our pleafure, of thofe who are poor,
Humanity ever with us is a law,
And our purfe makes the wretched fing Erm go bvagh.
Then let envy and malice our ifland invade,
The fons of St. Patrick will ne'er be difmayed ;
Clofe bound in one bond they (hall ne'er nnake a flaw
In our rights, fo nahockh/h and Efin go hragh. .
Walter's MiftreGTes.
THERE was Dorothy Dump, would mutter and
mump,
And cry, " my dear Walter, helgho !"
But no (tep (lie could take, would my conftancy (hake.
For (he had a timber toe.
There was Rebecca Rofe, with her aquiline nofe,
Who cried, " for you Walter I die,"
But I laugh at each glance, (he thre^v at me alkance,
For (he had a gimlet eye.
There was Tabitha Twi(t, had a mind to be kifs'd,
And made on my heart an attack ;
But he:- l>ivel derided — for (lie was lopfided.
And cuvfedly warp't in the back.
There ,was Barbara Brian, who ever was crying,
" Denr youth put an end to my woes."
Btit to fave in her head all the tears that (he fhed.
Nature irave her a bottle nofe.
Jolin Bull, &c.
JOHN Bull for pafiime took a pranoe
Some time ago to peep at France,
To talk of fciences and arts.
And knowledge gain'd in (breign parts.
Monfieur, obfequious, heard him fpeak.
And anfwered John in heathen Greek.;
To all he a(ked, 'bout all he faw,
'Twas, Monfieur, je 'uous n'entend fas.
John to the palace-royal come.
Its fplendour almoft ftruck him dumb :
' I fay, whofe houfe is that there here r'
Hojfe ! -je "jous nentend pas, Monfieur.
' What ! Nongtongpaw again } cries John,
'This fellow's fure, fome mighty doa ;
' No doubt has plenty for the maw ;
' I'll breakfaft with his Nongtongpaw.'
John faw VerfaiUes from Marli's height.
And cry'd, aftonifli'd at the fight,
' Whofe fine eftate is that there here ?'
Stat — je lious n'entend pas, Monfieur.
' His .' what the land and houfes, too .'
' The fellow's richer than a Jew ;
■" On every thing he lays his claw ;
' I faould like to dine with Nongtongpaw.
Next tripping came a courtly fair ;
John cry'd enchanfd with her air,
' What lovely wench is that there here?'
Ventch ! — je 'vous n'entend pas, Man/ieur.
' What ! he again } upon my life !
' A palace, lands, and then a wife,
' Sir Jo(hua might delight to draw f
' I (hould like to fup with Nongtongpaw.
' But hold ! whofe fun'ral's that .?' cries John,
Je vous n^entend pas ! ' What is he gone j
' Wealth, fame, and beauty could not fave
' Poor Nongtongpaw, then, from the grave ?
' His race is run, his game is up ;
' I'd with him breakfaft, dine, and fup ;
' But (ince he choofes to withdraw —
' Good night t'ye, Mounfegr Nongtongpaw !
The Friar.
I AM a friar of orders grey.
And down the vallies I take my way,
1 pull not blackberry, haw, or hip.
Good ftore of venYon does fill my fcrip.
My long bead roll I merrily chaunt.
Where'er I walk no money I want :
And why I'm fo plump the reafon I tell —
Who leads a good life is fure to live well.
What baron or'fquire.
Or knight of the (Iiire, ,
Lives half fo well as a holy friar.
After fupper of heaven I dream.
But tliat is fat pullet and clouted cream.
Myfelf, by denial, I mortify^—
With a dainty bit of a warden pie :
I'm cloth'd in fackcloth for my fin ;
With old fack wine I'm lin'cl within :
A chirping cud is my matin fong,
And the vefper's bell is my bowl, ding donjj,
Whnt baron or 'fquire.
Or knight of the fiiire.
Lives half fo •«; U as a holy friar.
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