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

THE CHARMS OF MELODY.
375
Neighbour Sly.
THE pnfling-bell was heard to toll !
John wail'd his lofs with bitter cries^
The parlon pray'd for Mary's foul.
The fexton hid her from all eyes.
And, art thou gone ?
Cry'd wretched John ;
O dear, 'twill kill me — I am dying ;
Cry'd neighbour Sly,
While ftanding by.
Oh ! how this world is given to lying.
The throng retir'd ; John left alone.
He meditated 'mongft the tombs,
And fpelt out on the mould'ring (lones,
What friends were gone to their long homes.
You're gone before,
Cry'd John, no more f
I fliall come foon— I'm almoft dying ;
Cry'd neighbour Sly,
Still ftanding by.
Oh ! how this world is given to lying.
Here lies the bones, Heaven's will be donej
Of farmer Slug-^reader would'ft know,
Who to his mem'ry rais'd this ftone i—
'Twas his difconlolate widow !
Cry'd John, Oh, oh,
To her I'll go ;
No doubt with grief the widow's dying ;
Cry'd neighbour Sly,
Still ftanding by,
Oh .' how this world is given to lying.
Their mutual grief was fhort and fweeit
Scarcely the paffing-bell had ceas'd
When they were fped : — the fun'ral meat
Was warm'd up f )r the marriage feaft ;
They vow'd and fwore.
Now o'er and o'er,
They ne'er would part till both were dying f
Cry'd neighbour Sly,
Srill ftanding by,
■Oh ! hoiv this world is given to lying.
Again, to hear the pafEng-bell,
John now a fort of hank'ring feels;
Again, his helpmate brags how well
She can trip up a hufband's heels j
Again to the tomb
Each longs to come.
Again with tears, and fobs, and fighing ;
For neighbour Sly,
Again to cry,
Oh I how the world is given to lying.
Neptuue and Britannia,
BANISH'D to fome haplefs ifle.
Be contention's direful band ;
May fweet peace and commerce fniile,
In fair Freedom's happy land.
May the warrior reft his arms,
In bright honour's facred dome;
Free from all but love's alarms.
May he reft in peace at home.
Love and Time.
LOVE was a little blooming boy..
Fond, innocent, and true j
His ev'ry fmile was fraught with joy.
And ev'ry joy was nert-.
Till ftealingfrom his mother's fide.
The urchni loft his wav.
And wand'ring far o'er deferts wide,
Thus weeping pour'd his laj.
O Time ! I'll drefs thy locks of fnow
With wreaths of fragrant flowers.
And all that raptute can beftow
Shall deck tiiy fleeting hours.
But for one day, one lirtle day.
Thy wings in pity fpare.
That 1 may homeward bend my waj'.
For all ray wreaths are there.
Time, cheated by his tears and fighs.
The wily God confeft,
When, ioaring to his native Ikies,
Ke fought his mother's breaft.
Short was his blifs, the treach'rous boy,
Was hurl'd from clime to clime,
And found amidft his proudeft joy,
He'd ftill the wings of Time. ''
Mrt. Robitifin.
Lucy Gray.
OFT I had heard of Lucy Gray,
And when I crofs'd the wild^
1 chanc'd to fee at break of day
The folitary child.
No mate, no comrade, Lucy knew ;
She dwelt on a wild moor.
The fweeteft thing that ever grew
Befide a human door.
You yet may fpy the fawn at play,
The hare upon the green :
Bat the fweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be feen.
" To night will be a ftormy night,
•You to the town miift go.
And take a lantern, child, to light
Your mother thro' the fnow."
" That, father ! will I gladly do ;
'Tis fcarcely afternoon-^
The Minfter-clock h.}s juft ftruck two.
And yonder is the moon."
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