From ''The musical repository'', pp150-2, 1799. :: listen to the tune (midi file)
'''FAIR SALLY.'''
Fair Sally lov'd a bonny seaman, With tears she sent him out to roam, Young Thomas lov'd no other woman, But left his heart with her at home. She view's the sea from off the hill, And while she turn'd the spinning wheel, Sung of her bonny seaman.
The winds blew loud, and she grew paler, To see the weather-cock turn round, When lo! she spied her bonny sailor Come singing o'er the fallow ground: With nimble haste he leap'd the style, And Sally met him with a smile, And hugg'd her bonny sailor.
Fast round the waste he took he Sally, But first around his mouth wip'd he, Like home-bred spark he could not dally, But kiss'd and press'd her with a glee: Thro' winds and waves and dashing rain, Cry'd he, thy Tom's returned again, And brings a heart for Sally.
Welcome! she cried, my constant Thomas, Tho' out of sight, ne'er out of mind; Our hearts tho' seas have parted from us, Yet they my thoughts did leave behind: So much my thoughts took Tommy's part, That time nor absence from my heart Could drive my constant Thomas.
This knife, the gift of lovely Sally, I still have kept for her dear sake; A thousand times, in am'rous folly, Thy name I've carv'd upon the deck. Again this happy pledge returns, To tell how truly Thomas burns, How truly burns for Sally.
This thimble didst thou give to Sally, Whilst this I see I think of you; Then why does Tom stand shilly shally, While yonder steeple's in our view? Tom, never to occasion blind, Now took her in the coming mind, And went to church with Sally.
From ''Calliope: or, the musical miscellany'', pp28-9, 1788. :: listen to the tune (midi file)
'''THE FLOWERS OF EDINBURGH.'''
My love was once a bonny lad, He was the flow'r of all his kin, The absense of his bonny face, Has rent my tender heart in twain. I day nor night find no delight, In silent tears I still complain, And exclaim' gainst these my rival foes. That hae ta'en from me my darling swain.
Despair and anguish fills my breast, Since I have lost my blooming rose; I sigh and moan while others rest, His absence yields me no repose. To seek my love I'll range and rove, Thro' ev'ry grove and distant plain; Thus I'll ne'er cease, but spend my days, T' hear tidings from my darling swain.
There's nothing strange in nature's charge, Since parents shew such cruelty; They caus'd my love from me to range, And knows not to what destiny. The pretty kids and tender lambs May cease to sport upon the plain; But I'll mourn and lament, in deep discontent, For the absence of my darling swain.
Kind Neptune, let me thee intreat, To send a fair and pleasant gale; Ye dolphins sweet, upon me wait, And do convey me on your tail. Heav'ns bless my voyage with success, While crossing of the raging main, And send me safe o'er to that distant shore, To meet my lovely darling swain.
All joy and mirth at our return Shall then abound from Tweed to Tay; The bells shall ring, and sweet birds sing, To grace and crown our nuptial day. Thus bless'd with charms in my love's arms, My heart once more I will regain, Then I'll range no more to a distant shore, But in love will enjoy my darling swain.
From ''Apollo’s cabinet: or the muses delight.'', p143, 1757. :: listen to the tune (midi file)
'''The Ladies Case. ''Set by Mr.'' GOUGE.'''
How hard is the fortune of all woman kind? For ever subjected, for ever confin'd: The parent controuls us until we are wives, The husbands enslave us the rest of their lives.
[How] fondly we love, yet we dare not reveal, [We] secretly languish, compell'd to conceal; Deny'd e'ery freedom of life to enjoy, We're sham'd if we're kind, we're blam'd if we're coy.
From ''The musical repository'', pp60-2, 1799. :: listen to the tune (midi file)
'''LASH'D TO THE HELM.'''
In storms, when clouds obsure the sky, And thunders roll and lightnings fly, In midst of all these dire alarms, I think, my Sally, on thy charms. The troubled main, The wind and rain, My ardent passion prove Lash'd to the helm, Shou'd seas o'erwhelm, I'd think on thee, my love, I'd think on thee, my love, I'd think on thee, my love, Lash'd to the helm, Shou'd seas o'erwhelm, I'd think on thee my love.
When rocks appear on ev'ry side, And art is vain the ship to guide, In varied shapes when death appears, The thoughts of thee my bosom cheers: The troubled main, The wind and rain, My ardent passion prove; Lash'd to the helm, Shou'd seas o'erwhelm, I'd think on thee my love.
But shou'd the gracious pow'rs be kind, Dispel the gloom and still the wind, And waft me to thy arms once more, Safe to my long-lost native shore; No more the main I'd tempt again, But tender joys improve I then with thee Shou'd happy be, And think on nought but love.
From ''The musical repository'', pp220-2, 1799. :: listen to the tune (midi file)
'''LITTLE THINKS THE TOWNSMAN'S WIFE.'''
Little thinks the towns-mans wife, While at home she tarries, What must be the lassie's life, Who a soldier marries; Now with weary marching spent, Dancing now before the tent; Lira lira la, lira lira la, With her jolly soldier.
In the camp at night she lies, Wind and weather scorning, Only griev'd her love must rise, And quit her in the morning: But the doubtful skirmish done, Blyth she sings at set of sun, Lira lira la, lira lira la, With her jolly soldier.
Should the captain of her dear Use his vain endeavour, Whisp'ring nonsense in her ear, Two fond hearts to sever; At his passion she will scoff; Laughing she will put him off, Lira lira la, lira lira la, For her jolly soldier.
Calliope: or, the musical miscellany, pp400-1, 1788. :: listen to the tune (midi file)
'''MA CHERE AMIE.'''
Ma chere amie, my charming fair, Whose smiles can banish ev'ry care; In kind compassion smile on me, Whose only care is love of thee. Ma chere amie; Ma chere amie; Ma chere amie; Ma chere amie.
Under sweet friendship's sacred name My bosom caught the tender flame. May friendship in they bosom be Converted into love for me! Ma chere amie, &c.
Together rear'd, together grown, O let us now unite in one! Let pit soften thy decree! I droop, dear maid; I die for thee! Ma chere amie, &c.