A SONG in devotion I sing to my… Ah! be startled not to discover I… To fold in my arms and possess wha… And many a time is the theme of my… My manhood’s dissolved at the sigh…

MY wee, wee fawn, you see me yawn… Well, I’m not much disposed to fl… And were I so, you rogue! you kno… You’re proof against the fiercest… You have an ear? of stone, my dear…

‘MY brother Jack the Rover, Sir!… ‘Bless me, I thought he was a cou… ‘Bound on a voyage to Elsinore!’ ‘Most merry damsels have a dozen!’ ‘That wench you tackled up the str…

THEY’D told me he was hoar and o… They’d told me he was weak and wor… And wonder-bound did I behold Him merry as a summer morn. Bound, wonder-bound; but when I f…

Now Gladstone’s party bears the b… And now Disraeli’s—now The people really cannot tell, For whom their hands to show. Now this way, la, now that incline…

CAN this be her? Her dark eyes… Two planets in the midnight heaven… Her cheeks the blood-dyed rose—her… The snow upon the mountains driven… Her tongue’s a silver bell to hear…

“A PHANTOM to me thou appeares… But spite of this seeming I know The magical image thou wearest, Is real as the lilies in blow; As real and as rare as the fairest…

OLD Uncle Bob lay on the settle, At eventide, while on the hob, ‘Roe-tee-riti-too’ sang the kettle… And charmed the dear heart of old… ‘Ree-tee-riti-too’ on his ears, lo…

YE’VE heard of Meg Goldlocks of… The stoniest damsel that ever was… Yet, her beauty distress’d, with i… Of the lasses for miles around Wi… Mary of Howdon, with Robin would…

WHEN I would laugh a little at The follies that in Life aboundet… What ails the saint I worship, th… She with a frown my spirit woundet… Is laughter sin? ah, then full wel…

ALAS! the woe the high of heart, Seem pre-ordained to undergo, While proud ambition hides the sma… And smiles delude the world below. Their anguish, like a Samson blin…

IT sounded in castle and palace, It sounded in cottage and shed, It sped over mountains and valleys… And withered the earth as it sped Like a blast in its fell consummat…

LET England beware, ere for war… She incur not the mark of the beas… That she march not her power the… Of the blood-imbued wolf of the E… It might be her gain that State t…

MEG MILLER skipt over to Hort… And sang as she went like the lark… ‘A pair of bright eyes hath Tim M… Yet not his the blink of Kit Clar… ’Bob Harkas hath hair crisp and c…

I LIKE the darling critics—like? O, how upon their work I linger, When they their weapons use to str… Not me, but some less happy singer… The treasure of their venom-bags