Scripscrapologia; or, Collins's doggerel dish of all sorts, songs

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Publish'd by the author, printed by M. Swinney, 1804 - 184 pages
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Page 17 - I'll envy no nabob his riches or fame, Nor what honours may wait him to-morrow. From the bleak northern blast may my cot be completely Secured by a neighbouring hill; And at night may repose steal upon me more sweetly By the sound of a murmuring rill: And while peace and plenty I find at my board, With a heart free from sickness and sorrow, With my friends may I share what today may afford, And let them spread the table to-morrow.
Page 17 - I'm declining, May my fate no less fortunate be Than a snug elbow-chair will afford for reclining, And a cot that o'erlooks the wide sea ; With an ambling pad-pony to pace o'er the lawn, While I carol away idle sorrow, And blithe as the lark that each day hails the dawn Look forward with hope for Tomorrow. With a porch at my door, both for shelter and...
Page 17 - I'll not seek to keep hovering, Nor my thread wish to spin o'er again : But my face in the glass I'll serenely survey, And with smiles count each wrinkle and furrow ; As this old worn-out stuff, which is thread-bare today, May become everlasting to-morrow.
Page 17 - And blithe as the lark that each day hails the dawn Look forward with hope for to-morrow With a porch at my door, both for shelter and shade too, As the sun-shine or rain may prevail ; And a small spot of ground for the use of the spade too, With a barn for the use of the flail : A cow for my dairy, a dog for my game, And a purse when a friend wants to borrow ; I'll envy no nabob his riches or fame, Nor what honours may wait him to-morrow.
Page 8 - Dick, who was knock'd on the head» Then Harry the Seventh in fame grew big. And Harry the Eighth was as fat as a pig. Yet, barring, &c.
Page 27 - I'd decline, To regale an old friend with a flask of old wine. By the bright golden sun, that gives birth to the day, Though as old as the globe which he gilds with his ray, And the moon which, though new...
Page 57 - But his biscuit he'd crack, turn his quid, crack his joke, And drown care in a jorum of grog ! Thus year after year, in a subaltern state, Poor Ben for his King fought and bled ; 'Till time had uuroof'd all the thatch from his pate, And the hair from his temples had fled.
Page 7 - The Romans in England they once did sway, And the Saxons they after them led the way. And they tugg'd with the Danes, till an overthrow They both of them got by the Norman bow.
Page 121 - The despoiler of man then his prospect thus losing' Of gain, by my sale — not a blind bargain choosing...
Page 29 - To my muse give attention and deem it not a mystery, If we jumble together music, poetry, and history» The times to display in the days of Queen Best, sir, Whose name and whose memory posterity may bless, sir. 0 the golden days of good Queen Bess, Merry be the memory of good Queen Bess.

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