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Fifty lyrical ballads

By Thomas Haynes Bayly

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72

I'VE SONGS TO SELL.

I've songs to sell, I've songs to sell,
Will you buy? will you buy?
Come cash my notes, I never yet
Have pitch'd my price too high.
Come, Lovers, I have lays for you,
All sentiment, and sighs;
And similes—not over new,
And vows—not over wise:
I've Serenades that ought to move
The most obdurate Fair;
I've transports for triumphant Love,
And dolefuls for Despair.
I've Ballads, Lady, if you make
Such simple things your choice;
Oh sing, and let my verse partake
The sweetness of your voice:

73

While They who simple lays despise,
Preferring flights sublime,
Will find that I can sacrifice
My reason to my rhyme!
I've songs for those with spirits high,
Who mingle laugh and jest;
For Mothers I've a lullaby
To soothe a Babe to rest:
Come one and all and buy my lays,
Let none refuse to sing,
For I have loyal songs, in praise
Of England, and her King!
I've songs to sell, I've songs to sell,
Will you buy? will you buy?
Come cash my notes, I never yet
Have pitch'd my price too high.