COBB. THE WEALTH OF THE COTTAGE. GOULDING, LONDON. Sung by Mr Incledon. REEVE.. A BLESSING unknown to Ambition and Pride, To Wealth and to Splendour tho' often deny'd, That blessing, ye powers, oh! be it my lot! Whate'er my condition, why should I repine, Exulting, I felt what a treasure was mine- Still fixt in my heart, shall be never forgot, DIBDIN. SAILOR'S JOURNAL. -DIBDIN, LONDON. Sung by Mr Incledon. "TWAS post meridian, half past four, By signal I from Nancy parted; At six she linger❜d on the shore, With uplift hands and broken-hearted; DIBDIN. At sev'n, while taught'ning the fore-stay, And bid a long adieu to Nancy. Night came, and now eight-bells had rung, With tempers labour cannot weary: While tender thoughts rush'd on my fancy, And my warm sighs increas'd the wind, Look'd on the moon, and thought of Nancy. And now arriv'd that jovial night When ev'ry true-bred tar carouses, When, o'er the grog, all hands delight To toast their sweethearts and their spouses: Round went the cann, the jest, the glee, While tender wishes fill'd each fancy; And when, in turn, it came to me, I heav'd a sigh, and toasted Nancy. Next morn a storm came on at four; But love seem'd to forbid the waves To snatch me from the arms of Nancy. Scarce the foul hurricane was clear'd, Scarce winds and waves had ceas'd to rattle, When a bold enemy appear'd, And, dauntless, we prepar'd for battle; And now, while some lov'd friend or wife, Like lightning, rush'd on every fancy, To Providence I trusted life, Put up a prayer, and thought of Nancy. At last, 'twas in the month of May, And England's chalky cliffs together; While hopes and fears rush'd on my fancy; At twelve I gaily jump'd ashore, And to my throbbing heart press'd Nancy. T. DIBDIN. KATE'S VALENTINE. -CORRI, LONDON. Sung by Madame Storace. BRAHAM. WHEN I danc'd on the turf with the youthful and gay, New sweethearts a-courting would come every day; He bow'd so genteely, his air was so spruce, COLEMAN, WHEN PENSIVE, ETC. -CORRI, LONDON. Sung by Mrs Crouch. WHEN pensive I thought of my love, Broke sweetly the silence of night. Methought that my love, as I lay, His ringlets all clotted with gore, KELLY. JULIA TO THE WOOD-ROBIN. ANONYMOUS. -PRESTON, LONDON. Sung at the Public Concerts. STAY, sweet enchanter of the grove; SPOFFORTH. While my fond heart responds to thee. K Rest thy soft bosom on the spray, Till chilly Autumn frowns severe; Then charm me with thy parting lay, And I will answer with a tear. But soon as Spring, enwreath'd with flow'rs, MISS BAILLIE. AH! GIVE ME HOPE. NOT YET PUBLISHED. Sung at the Newcastle Concerts. AH! Celia, beauteous, heavenly maid, And bless the hour that gave me pain. Ah! doom me not to swift decay, Nor, cruel, scorn my bosom's smart; Oh haste, the balm of hope impart. MURRAY. |