A collection of songs, selected from the works of Mr. Dibdin

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Printed for the author: and sold by him at his warehouse, no. 411, Strand, opposite the Adelphi., 1790 - Ballads, English
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Page 30 - I'd all the world in lovely Nan. I love my duty, love my friend, Love truth and merit to defend, — To...
Page 33 - I'm the lad that's genteel, and knows fashion and life. But don't go for to think I neglects number one; — Often when my companions with ardour, Are hunting about with the dog and the gun, .!'*' I goes and I hunts in the larder; There I springs me a woodcock, or flushes a quail, Or finds puss as she sits under cover, Then...
Page 110 - twas fancy ; At eight we all got under weigh, And bid a long adieu to Nancy ! Night came, and now eight bells had rung, While careless sailors, ever cheery, On the mid watch so jovial sung, With tempers labour cannot weary.
Page 112 - Plunged me and three poor sailors more Headlong within the foaming ocean. Poor wretches ! they soon found their graves ; For me — it may be only fancy,— But love seem'd to forbid.
Page 71 - This fond attachment to the well-known place Whence first we started into life's long race, Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway We feel it e'en in age, and at our latest day. COWPER. Our friends are as true, and our wives are as comely, And our home is still home, be it ever so homely.
Page 55 - wouldst thou on wedlock fix ?" " I rather should expect," cried I, " Variety in five or six ;" '. But never was thy counsel light, I'll do't, my friend ! — So said, so done, I'm noosed for life, and Dick was right, I find variety in one.
Page 111 - Looked on the moon, and thought of Nancy ! And now arrived that jovial night When every true-bred tar carouses ; When o'er the grog, all hands delight To toast their sweethearts and their spouses. Round went the can, the jest, the glee, While tender wishes...
Page 113 - twas in the month of May, — The crew, it being lovely weather, At three AM discover'd day And England's chalky cliffs together.
Page 67 - TOM TRUELOVE woo'd the sweetest fair That e'er to tar was kind, Her face was of a beauty rare, More beautiful her mind. His messmates heard : while with delight He named her for his bride, A sail appear'd, ah, fatal sight!
Page 33 - I'm the lad that was rolled in the dust. Then they calls me a nincom, why over the fields, There a little beyond Dulwich Common, I a chick and a goose tumbled neck over heels, And two mudlarks, besides an old woman.

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