The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson ... for the first time fully collected and compared with the original and early editions ... edited ... by the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart ... with portrait, illustrations, &c |
 | I. |
 | II. |
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| SONGS. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson |  |
SONGS.
MY LANDLADY'S NOSE.
O'er the evils of life 'tis a folly to fret,
Despondence and grief never lessen'd them yet;
Then a fig for the world let it come as it goes,
I'll sing to the praise of my landlady's nose.
Despondence and grief never lessen'd them yet;
Then a fig for the world let it come as it goes,
I'll sing to the praise of my landlady's nose.
My landlady's nose is in noble condition,
For longitude, latitude, shape, and position;
'Tis as round as a horn, and as red as a rose,
Success to the hulk of my landlady's nose.
For longitude, latitude, shape, and position;
'Tis as round as a horn, and as red as a rose,
Success to the hulk of my landlady's nose.
To jewellers' shops let your ladies repair,
For trinkets and nick-nacks to give them an air;
Here living curbuncles, a score of them glows
On the big massy sides of my landlady's nose.
For trinkets and nick-nacks to give them an air;
Here living curbuncles, a score of them glows
On the big massy sides of my landlady's nose.
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Old Patrick M'Dougherty when on the fuddle,
Pulls out a segar, and looks up to her noddle;
For Dougherty swears, when he swigs a good dose,
By Marjory's firebrand, my landlady's nose.
Pulls out a segar, and looks up to her noddle;
For Dougherty swears, when he swigs a good dose,
By Marjory's firebrand, my landlady's nose.
Ye wishy-wash butter-milk drinkers so cold,
Come here, and the virtues of brandy behold;
Here's red burning Ætna; a mountain of snows,
Would roll down in streams from my landlady's nose.
Come here, and the virtues of brandy behold;
Here's red burning Ætna; a mountain of snows,
Would roll down in streams from my landlady's nose.
Each cavern profound of this snuff-loving snout,
Is furnish'd within, sir, as well as without;
O'er the brown upper lip such a cordial flows—
O, the cordial brown drops of my landlady's nose.
Is furnish'd within, sir, as well as without;
O'er the brown upper lip such a cordial flows—
O, the cordial brown drops of my landlady's nose.
But, gods! when this trunk with an uplifted arm,
She grasps in the dish-clout to blow an alarm,
Horns, trumpets, conches are but screaming of crows,
To the loud thund'ring twang of my landlady's nose.
She grasps in the dish-clout to blow an alarm,
Horns, trumpets, conches are but screaming of crows,
To the loud thund'ring twang of my landlady's nose.
My landlady's nose unto me is a treasure,
A care-killing nostrum, a fountain of pleasure;
If I want for a laugh to discard all my woes,
I only look up to my landlady's nose.
A care-killing nostrum, a fountain of pleasure;
If I want for a laugh to discard all my woes,
I only look up to my landlady's nose.
CONNEL AND FLORA.
Dark lowers the night o'er the wide stormy main,
Till mild rosy morning rise cheerful again;
Alas! morn returns to revisit our shore;
But Connel returns to his Flora no more!
Till mild rosy morning rise cheerful again;
Alas! morn returns to revisit our shore;
But Connel returns to his Flora no more!
For see, on yon mountain, the dark cloud of death
O'er Connel's lone cottage, lies low on the heath;
While bloody and pale, on a far distant shore,
He lies, to return to his Flora no more!
O'er Connel's lone cottage, lies low on the heath;
While bloody and pale, on a far distant shore,
He lies, to return to his Flora no more!
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Ye light fleeting spirits that glide o'er yon steep,
O would ye but waft me across the wild deep,
There fearless I'd mix in the battle's loud roar,
I'd die with my Connel, and leave him no more!
O would ye but waft me across the wild deep,
There fearless I'd mix in the battle's loud roar,
I'd die with my Connel, and leave him no more!
WASHINGTON: DIRGE.
He's gone! for ever gone and lost
Our country's glory, pride, and boast;
In vain we weep—in vain deplore,
Our Washington is now no more.—
That guiding star, whose radiant form,
In triumph led us thro' the storm
While blackest clouds did round us roar,
Is set—to gild our sphere no more.
Our country's glory, pride, and boast;
In vain we weep—in vain deplore,
Our Washington is now no more.—
That guiding star, whose radiant form,
In triumph led us thro' the storm
While blackest clouds did round us roar,
Is set—to gild our sphere no more.
O'er regions far remote and nigh,
The fatal tidings swiftly fly;
Each startled bosom heaves with woe,
And tears of deepest sorrow flow.
The young, the aged, wise, and brave,
Approach in solemn grief his grave;
In silent anguish to bemoan,
Their hero, friend, and father gone.
The fatal tidings swiftly fly;
Each startled bosom heaves with woe,
And tears of deepest sorrow flow.
The young, the aged, wise, and brave,
Approach in solemn grief his grave;
In silent anguish to bemoan,
Their hero, friend, and father gone.
JEFFERSON AND LIBERTY.
A PATRIOTIC SONG.
The gloomy night before us flies,
The reign of terror now is o'er;
Its gags, inquisitors, and spies,
Its herds of harpies are no more.
The reign of terror now is o'er;
Its gags, inquisitors, and spies,
Its herds of harpies are no more.
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CHORUS.
Rejoice! Columbia's sons, rejoice,To tyrants never bend the knee;
But join, with heart, and soul, and voice,
For Jefferson and Liberty.
Hail! long expected, glorious day;
Illustrious, memorable morn!
That freedom's fabric, from decay,
Rebuilds for millions yet unborn.
Illustrious, memorable morn!
That freedom's fabric, from decay,
Rebuilds for millions yet unborn.
His country's glory, hope, and stay,
In virtue and in talents tried;
Now rises to assume the sway,
O'er this great temple to preside.
In virtue and in talents tried;
Now rises to assume the sway,
O'er this great temple to preside.
Within its hallowed walls immense,
No hireling bands shall e'er arise;
Arrayed in tyranny's defence,
To crush an injured people's cries.
No hireling bands shall e'er arise;
Arrayed in tyranny's defence,
To crush an injured people's cries.
No lordling here, with gorging jaws,
Shall wring from Industry her food;
No holy bigot's fiery laws
Lay waste our ruined fields in blood.
Shall wring from Industry her food;
No holy bigot's fiery laws
Lay waste our ruined fields in blood.
Here, strangers from a thousand shores,
Compelled by tyranny to roam;
Still find, amidst abundant stores,
A nobler, and a happier home.
Compelled by tyranny to roam;
Still find, amidst abundant stores,
A nobler, and a happier home.
Here Art shall lift her laurelled head,
Wealth, industry, and peace divine;
And, where unbounded forests spread,
Shall fields and lofty cities shine.
Wealth, industry, and peace divine;
And, where unbounded forests spread,
Shall fields and lofty cities shine.
From Europe's wants and woes remote,
A friendly waste of waves between;
Here plenty cheers the humblest cot,
And smiles on every village green.
A friendly waste of waves between;
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And smiles on every village green.
Here, free as air's expanded space,
To every soul and sect shall be,
That sacred privilege of our race,
The worship of the Deity.
To every soul and sect shall be,
That sacred privilege of our race,
The worship of the Deity.
These gifts, great Liberty, are thine
Ten thousand more we owe to thee;
Immortal may their memories shine,
Who fought and died for Liberty.
Ten thousand more we owe to thee;
Immortal may their memories shine,
Who fought and died for Liberty.
What heart but hails a scene so bright?
What soul but inspiration draws?
Who would not guard so dear a right,
Or die in such a glorious cause?
What soul but inspiration draws?
Who would not guard so dear a right,
Or die in such a glorious cause?
Let foes to freedom dread the name;
But should they touch this sacred tree,
Thrice fifty thousand swords shall flame,
For Jefferson and Liberty!
But should they touch this sacred tree,
Thrice fifty thousand swords shall flame,
For Jefferson and Liberty!
O'er vast Columbia's varied clime,
Her cities, forests, shores, and dales,
In rising majesty sublime,
Immortal liberty prevails.
Her cities, forests, shores, and dales,
In rising majesty sublime,
Immortal liberty prevails.
From Georgia to Lake Champlain,
From seas to Mississippi's shore;
Ye sons of freedom loud proclaim,
The reign of terror is no more.
From seas to Mississippi's shore;
Ye sons of freedom loud proclaim,
The reign of terror is no more.
Rejoice Columbia's sons rejoice,
To tyrants never bend the knee;
But join, with heart, and soul, and voice,
For Jefferson and Liberty!
To tyrants never bend the knee;
But join, with heart, and soul, and voice,
For Jefferson and Liberty!
| The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson | |