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DCCXXI.

ISLE OF MAN.

ALL the bairns unborn will rue the day
That the Isle of Man was sold away;
And there's ne'er a wife that loves a dram,
But what will lament for the Isle of Man.

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SEVENTEENTH CLASS.

Love and Matrimong.

DCCXXII.

As I was going up Pippen Hill,
Pippen Hill was dirty,
There I met a pretty miss,

And she dropt me a curtsey.

Little miss, pretty miss,
Blessings light upon you!
If I had half-a-crown a day,
I'd spend it all upon you.

DCCXXIII.

It's once I courted as pretty a lass

As ever your eyes did see;

But now she's come to such a pass, She never will do for me.

She invited me to her own house,
Where oft I'd been before,

And she tumbled me into the hog-tub,
And I'll never go there any more.

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