| First Line |
Page |
Verses |
| As my cow I was milking just now in the vale |
3-4 |
4 |
| Young ladies in town, and all who live round |
4 |
5 |
| To ease his heart, and own his flame |
5 |
6 |
| One summer's eve, as Nancy, fair |
6-7 |
4 |
| Beautious starling late I saw, A |
7-8 |
4 |
| As 'cross the field the other morn |
8-9 |
3 |
| Scenes of my youth! ye once were dear |
9-11 |
5 |
| 'Twas on a pleasant hill I stood |
11-12 |
6 |
| Stranger, wouldst thou enter here |
12-13 |
3 |
| And are you sure the news is true |
13-14 |
3 |
| From the East breaks the morn |
15-16 |
5 |
| Ah! Delia see the fatal hours |
16-18 |
7 |
| Dusky night rides down the sky, The |
18-19 |
6 |
| 'Twas in the green meadows so gay |
19-20 |
3 |
| Tho' oft we meet severe distress |
20-21 |
3 |
| Songs of shepherds in rustical roundelays |
21-23 |
7 |
| As Dolly sat milking her cow |
23-24 |
3 |
| When the rosy morn appearing |
24-25 |
4 |
| Say, have you seen my Arabell? |
25-26 |
3 |
| Oh Lord! what a terrible fright I am in |
26-27 |
3 |
| Attention pray give while of hobbies I sing |
27-28 |
7 |
| I once was both social and gay |
28-29 |
7 |
| Come here, come here, my pretty dear |
30-31 |
4 |
| All nature is cheerful and gay |
31 |
3 |
| Trust not woman, she'll beguile you |
31-32 |
3 |
| Trust not man for hell deceive you [sic] |
32 |
3 |
| Sweet briar grows in the merry green wood, The |
33-34 |
7 |
| I gaze from the brow of the steep |
34-35 |
7 |
| Tender softness, infant mild! |
35-36 |
2 |
| Jenny! hide your milk-white bosom |
36 |
2 |
| John Bull, for pastime took a prance |
37-38 |
5 |
| Woman is to---but stay---, A |
38-39 |
2 |
| Our immortal poet's page |
40-43 |
8 |
| While wrapt in fancy's airy dreams |
43 |
4 |
| One morn, on the brow of a hill |
44-45 |
4 |
| Well here I am;---and what of that? |
45-46 |
3 |
| Hey! what's the bustle? what's the stir? |
46-47 |
5 |
| Lovely tenant of the grove |
48 |
3 |
| Can aught be more fair to the eye |
49-50 |
5 |
| Dear is my little native vale |
50-51 |
3 |
| Ye Muses! pour the pitying tear |
51-52 |
5 |
| As free as air I've rov'd till now |
52-53 |
6 |
| One night I dreampt I lay most easy [sic] |
53-55 |
5 |
| Sweet country life is delightful & charming, A |
55-56 |
6 |
| 'Twas on one morning something soon |
56-57 |
4 |
| Fair one is false to her word, The |
57-58 |
4 |
| Mine be a cot beside a hill |
58-59 |
4 |
| I'm lonesome since I cross'd the hills |
59-60 |
5 |
| Let the tempest of war |
60-61 |
3 |
| Friendship to every willing mind |
61-62 |
5 |
| 'Twas on the morn of sweet May day |
63-64 |
5 |
| Sure a lass in her blossom, at the age of nineteen [sic] |
64-65 |
5 |
| At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still |
65-67 |
6 |
| As th'other day milking I sat in the vale |
67-68 |
5 |
| Return, enraptur'd hours |
68-69 |
3 |
| O'er moorlands and mountains rude, barren and bare |
69-70 |
8 |
| Leave, neighbours, your work, and to sport and to play |
71-72 |
5 |
| As bringing home, the other day |
72-73 |
3 |
| Last time I came o'er the moor, The |
73-74 |
5 |
| Her sheep had in clusters crept close to a grove |
74-75 |
4 |
| Young Colin once courted Myrtilla the prude |
76 |
4 |
| As sound as a nut o'er the plains |
77-78 |
10 |
| Ye nymphs who unthinkingly rove |
78-80 |
12 |
| Mild as the beauty of fourteen |
80-81 |
9 |
| When innocence and beauty meet |
82 |
4 |
| You tell me I'm handsome, (I know not how true) |
82-83 |
3 |
| One April morn, reclin'd in bed |
83-85 |
14 |
| Good people all attend to me, I'll sing you a merry tale, sir |
86-88 |
8 |
| Bosom of earth is matted with leaves, The |
89-90 |
5 |
| Whene'er with haggard eyes I view |
90-91 |
8 |
| Again thou rosy dimpled Maid return? |
92-93 |
6 |
| Little insect that on high |
93-94 |
5 |
| Their groves of sweet myrtal, let foreign lands reckon |
94-95 |
4 |
| Hope and fear alternate rising |
95 |
3 |
| Believe my sighs, my tears, my dear |
96 |
2 |
| Where social mirth with pleasure reigns |
96-97 |
4 |
| This world, my dear Mira, is full of deceit |
97-98 |
5 |
| What pleasure can compare, with sleighing with the fair |
98-99 |
5 |
| How sweet through the woodlands, with fleet hound and horn |
99 |
2 |
| My Sally is fair as the flow'rs |
100-101 |
6 |
| Stella and Flavia, every hour |
101-102 |
4 |
| O yes my good people draw near |
102-104 |
12 |
| Gentle willow, lend thy shade |
104 |
3 |
| Hail Columbia! happy land |
105-107 |
4 |
| Ye sons of Columbia who bravely have fought |
107-110 |
9 |
| For ages on ages by tyranny bound |
110-111 |
6 |
| Unfold, Father Time, thy long records unfold |
111-112 |
4 |
| Full twenty years, an honest man in black |
112-114 |
4 |
| Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise |
114-116 |
12 |
| To a mouldering cavern, the mansion of woe |
116-117 |
3 |
| I wonder what the racket means |
117-119 |
9 |
| Give me a lad with a black cockade |
119-122 |
16 |
| Sainted shades, who dar'd to brave |
122-123 |
4 |
| Come join hand in hand, brave Americans all |
124-125 |
5 |