 | Songs and poems(1866) |  |
6
RELPH'S SONGS.
BONNY SMURKIN' SALLY.
A BRAND NEW BALLAT.
O what a deal of beauties rare,
Leeve down in Caldew valley;
Yet theer's not yen that can compare
Wi' bonny smurkin' Sally.
Leeve down in Caldew valley;
Yet theer's not yen that can compare
Wi' bonny smurkin' Sally.
O fortune's great, my dad oft tells,
But I cry shally-wally:
I mind nae fortune, nor ought else,
My heart's sae set on Sally.
But I cry shally-wally:
I mind nae fortune, nor ought else,
My heart's sae set on Sally.
Let others round the teable sit
At fairs, and drink and rally;
While to a corner snug I git,
And kiss and lark wi' Sally.
At fairs, and drink and rally;
While to a corner snug I git,
And kiss and lark wi' Sally.
7
Some lads court fearful hard, yet still
Put off and drive and dally;
The priest neest Sunday—if she will—
May publish me and Sally.
Put off and drive and dally;
The priest neest Sunday—if she will—
May publish me and Sally.
O how my heart wad loup for joy,
To lead her up the alley;
And with what courage cou'd I cry—
I tak thee bonny Sally.
To lead her up the alley;
And with what courage cou'd I cry—
I tak thee bonny Sally.
Now, sud not we a bargain strike?—
I's seer our temper's tally;
For deuce a thing can e'er I like
But just what likes my Sally.
I's seer our temper's tally;
For deuce a thing can e'er I like
But just what likes my Sally.
I's sick, and know not what to do;
And nevermore may rally!—
What signify sec things a flea?—
O, send off-hand for Sally.
And nevermore may rally!—
What signify sec things a flea?—
O, send off-hand for Sally.
IT'S WRANG INDEED NOW, JENNY.
It's wrang indeed now, Jenny, quite,
To spoil a lad sae rare;
The games that yence were his delight,
Peer Jacky minds nae mair.
To spoil a lad sae rare;
The games that yence were his delight,
Peer Jacky minds nae mair.
Nae mair he cracks the leave o'th' green,
The cleverest far abuin;
But lakes at wait-not-whats within,
Aw Sunday efter-nuin.
The cleverest far abuin;
But lakes at wait-not-whats within,
Aw Sunday efter-nuin.
8
Nae mair i'th' nights thro' woods he leads,
To treace the wand'ring brock;
But sits i'th' nuik and nought else heeds,
But Jenny and her rock.
To treace the wand'ring brock;
But sits i'th' nuik and nought else heeds,
But Jenny and her rock.
Thus Hercules, that ballats say,
Made parlish monsters stoop;
Flang his great mickle club away,
And tuik a spinnel up.
Made parlish monsters stoop;
Flang his great mickle club away,
And tuik a spinnel up.
WHEN DAMON FIRST TO CÆLIA SPOKE.
When Damon first to Cælia spoke,
And made his passion known;
So free her air! so kind her look!
He thought the nymph his own.
And made his passion known;
So free her air! so kind her look!
He thought the nymph his own.
Poor Damon! all thy hopes are vain,
Success no longer boast:
Such Cælia is to every swain,
But catch—and Cælia's lost.
Success no longer boast:
Such Cælia is to every swain,
But catch—and Cælia's lost.
Thus oft we see at close of eve
When all is calm and fair,
An idle wand'ring feather wave,
And saunter here and there.
When all is calm and fair,
An idle wand'ring feather wave,
And saunter here and there.
9
Tempting the grasp of every clown
Around the trifle plays:
He catches! full of hopes—'tis gone,—
And Simon's left to gaze.
Around the trifle plays:
He catches! full of hopes—'tis gone,—
And Simon's left to gaze.
ONE SUNDAY MORN IN CHEERFUL MAY.
One Sunday morn in cheerful May,
When all was clad in best array,
Young Cælia tripp'd the garden gay
With robes of various dye:
The choicest flow'rs the virgin chose,
The lily pale, the blushing rose
With all that most delights the nose
Or tempts the wand'ring eye.
When all was clad in best array,
Young Cælia tripp'd the garden gay
With robes of various dye:
The choicest flow'rs the virgin chose,
The lily pale, the blushing rose
With all that most delights the nose
Or tempts the wand'ring eye.
In artful rank when each was plac'd,
She fix'd the favourites on her breast,
O happy, happy flow'rs possess'd
Of such a heavenly seat!
But they with envy view the fair,
And (vain attempts!) presumptuous dare
With Cælia's beauties to compare,
And rival charms so great.
She fix'd the favourites on her breast,
O happy, happy flow'rs possess'd
Of such a heavenly seat!
But they with envy view the fair,
And (vain attempts!) presumptuous dare
With Cælia's beauties to compare,
And rival charms so great.
The rose displays its purple dyes,
Ten thousand sweets at once surprize;
Ungrateful sight to Cælia's eyes!
Her cheeks a blush disclose!
So much the glowing blush became,
Superior sweets so graced the dame,
The rose sunk down its head for shame,
And durst no more oppose.
Ten thousand sweets at once surprize;
Ungrateful sight to Cælia's eyes!
Her cheeks a blush disclose!
10
Superior sweets so graced the dame,
The rose sunk down its head for shame,
And durst no more oppose.
The lily next resists the maid
In robes of purest white array'd
Its beauties gracefully display'd
Her finest charms defy'd;
The blood forsook the fair one's face,
A sudden paleness took its place,
But paleness mix'd with such a grace
As check'd the lily's pride.
In robes of purest white array'd
Its beauties gracefully display'd
Her finest charms defy'd;
The blood forsook the fair one's face,
A sudden paleness took its place,
But paleness mix'd with such a grace
As check'd the lily's pride.
The flow'rs thus foil'd in single fight
Their force with utmost speed invite,
With lavished odours all unite
And scent the neighbouring air.
She sighs—such balmy breezes fly,
Such fragrant sweets perfume the sky,
The flowers drop down their heads and die
Oppress'd with deep despair.
Their force with utmost speed invite,
With lavished odours all unite
And scent the neighbouring air.
She sighs—such balmy breezes fly,
Such fragrant sweets perfume the sky,
The flowers drop down their heads and die
Oppress'd with deep despair.
COME, PANDORA, COME AWAY.
Come, Pandora, come away,
Who can brook such dull delay?
Come and glad my longing eye;
Could I now Pandora spy!
Envious hill, O why wilt thou
Intercept a lover's view!
Haste, Pandora, haste away,
Every minute seems a day.
Who can brook such dull delay?
Come and glad my longing eye;
Could I now Pandora spy!
11
Intercept a lover's view!
Haste, Pandora, haste away,
Every minute seems a day.
Once lov'd plains no longer please,
There's no pleasure, but where she is,
I'd with her to town resort,
I'd with her endure a court;
Wilds are gardens with my dear,
All's a wild if she's not there.
Haste, Pandora, haste away
Every minute seems a day.
There's no pleasure, but where she is,
I'd with her to town resort,
I'd with her endure a court;
Wilds are gardens with my dear,
All's a wild if she's not there.
Haste, Pandora, haste away
Every minute seems a day.
See she comes—ye swains prepare
To entertain the lovely fair;
Let blythe jokes and rustic rhyme,
Songs and dances cheat the time,
All your gambols, all be play'd
To divert the charming maid;
May her hours unheeded flow,
And the clock ne'er seem too slow.
To entertain the lovely fair;
Let blythe jokes and rustic rhyme,
Songs and dances cheat the time,
All your gambols, all be play'd
To divert the charming maid;
May her hours unheeded flow,
And the clock ne'er seem too slow.
See she comes—ye maidens haste,
Sweep the hearth, nay do it fast;
Mind that nought offend the sight,
Be the table wondrous bright;
Rub the cupboard, rub it clean
Till your shadow's to be seen;
Let clean pinners grace each head,
Each her lily apron spread.
Sweep the hearth, nay do it fast;
Mind that nought offend the sight,
Be the table wondrous bright;
Rub the cupboard, rub it clean
Till your shadow's to be seen;
Let clean pinners grace each head,
Each her lily apron spread.
12
Now she's near—I burn, I glow,
Short my breath, my voice grows low!
Thus the lark with cheerful lay
Hails th'approaching god of day,
But when nearer he displays
Brighter beams and warmer rays;
Then her little bosom heaves,
And its gentle warbling leaves.
Short my breath, my voice grows low!
Thus the lark with cheerful lay
Hails th'approaching god of day,
But when nearer he displays
Brighter beams and warmer rays;
Then her little bosom heaves,
And its gentle warbling leaves.
TELL ME, FAIR ONE.
Tell me, my fair one, why so fast
From a fond lover's arms you run?
Why, with that tim'rous cruel haste
His tenderest endearments shun?
From a fond lover's arms you run?
Why, with that tim'rous cruel haste
His tenderest endearments shun?
So flies the fawn, perplex'd with fear,
When from its anxious parent stray'd;
It starts at every breath of air,
And trembles with the trembling shade.
When from its anxious parent stray'd;
It starts at every breath of air,
And trembles with the trembling shade.
So flies the fawn; my fair one so;
But think what different causes move;
It wisely dreads a mortal foe;
You fondly are afraid of love.
But think what different causes move;
It wisely dreads a mortal foe;
You fondly are afraid of love.
Cease then, dear trifler, cease to toy;
Those silly childish airs resign;
Now fit to taste substantial joy,
Quit mamma's cold embrace for mine.
Those silly childish airs resign;
Now fit to taste substantial joy,
Quit mamma's cold embrace for mine.
13
SEE, HOW THE WINE BLUSHES.
Sit down—'tis a scandal for Christians to fight;
See, how the wine blushes asham'd at the sight!
Come, lay by your logic, let each take his glass;
In vino (the proverb affirms) veritas.
See, how the wine blushes asham'd at the sight!
Come, lay by your logic, let each take his glass;
In vino (the proverb affirms) veritas.
Is mine the first bumper?—then Damon your toast,
Say, what pretty charmer your soul has engross'd?
What a-deuce do you scruple? unless you'll comply,
I'll not touch a drop on't, no marry, not I.
Say, what pretty charmer your soul has engross'd?
What a-deuce do you scruple? unless you'll comply,
I'll not touch a drop on't, no marry, not I.
Make haste then—good gods! is it she? O the quean?
A pert little tyrant as ever was seen!
What magic can loose thee! alas, thou must hope,
No freedom from chains—till releas'd by a rope!
A pert little tyrant as ever was seen!
What magic can loose thee! alas, thou must hope,
No freedom from chains—till releas'd by a rope!
TO A YOUNG LADY WHO TOOK IT ILL TO HAVE ME CALLED HER LOVER.
Lord! Miss, how folks can frame a lie!
Love you, say they?—by Jove not I.
Both Jove and you may witness bring
I never dreamt of such a thing.
Love you, say they?—by Jove not I.
Both Jove and you may witness bring
I never dreamt of such a thing.
Henceforth bid jealousy be gone;
Thy dear, dear self is thine alone;
From fear of rivals thou art free:
—O! were I half so blest as thee.
Thy dear, dear self is thine alone;
From fear of rivals thou art free:
—O! were I half so blest as thee.
14
ALL FEMALE CHARMS, I OWN MY FAIR.
All female charms, I own my fair,
In your accomplished form combine;
Yet, why this proud assuming air?
The praise is Nature's, none of thine.
In your accomplished form combine;
Yet, why this proud assuming air?
The praise is Nature's, none of thine.
Wouldst thou, with just pretensions, claim
Of our applause an equal share;
Be thy desert, my dear, the same;
And prove as kind as thou art fair.
Of our applause an equal share;
Be thy desert, my dear, the same;
And prove as kind as thou art fair.
WHAT CHARMS HAS FAIR CHLOE.
What charms has fair Chloe!
Her bosom's like snow!
Each feature
Is sweeter
Proud Venus than thine!
Her mind like her face is
Adorned with all graces,
Not Pallas possesses
A wit so divine.
Her bosom's like snow!
Each feature
Is sweeter
Proud Venus than thine!
Her mind like her face is
Adorned with all graces,
Not Pallas possesses
A wit so divine.
What crowds are a-bleeding
While Chloe's ne'er heeding:
All lying
A dying
Thro' cruel disdain:
Ye gods deign to warm her
Or quickly disarm her;
While Chloe's a charmer
Your temples are vain.
While Chloe's ne'er heeding:
All lying
A dying
Thro' cruel disdain:
Ye gods deign to warm her
Or quickly disarm her;
While Chloe's a charmer
Your temples are vain.
15
OLD AGE THOSE BEAUTIES WILL IMPAIR.
O think my too, too cruel fair,
Old age those beauties will impair;
A few, short-pleasing triumphs past,
Themselves shall fall a prey at last.
Old age those beauties will impair;
A few, short-pleasing triumphs past,
Themselves shall fall a prey at last.
That cheek, where fairest red and white,
The lily and the rose unite;
That cheek its every charm shall lose
Like a brown leaf at autumn's close.
The lily and the rose unite;
That cheek its every charm shall lose
Like a brown leaf at autumn's close.
Then shall the glass thy change betray,
Then shalt thou fetch a sigh and say,
Why came not these kind thoughts before,
Or why return my charms no more.
Then shalt thou fetch a sigh and say,
Why came not these kind thoughts before,
Or why return my charms no more.
FALSE OR TRUE.
Pensive Strephon, cease repining,
Give thy injured stars their due;
There's no room for all this whining,
Be Dorinda false or true.
Give thy injured stars their due;
There's no room for all this whining,
Be Dorinda false or true.
If she feeds a faithful passion,
Canst thou call thy fortune cross?
And if sway'd by whim and fashion,
Let her leave thee—where's the loss?
Canst thou call thy fortune cross?
And if sway'd by whim and fashion,
Let her leave thee—where's the loss?
| Songs and poems(1866) | |