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TUNE “IN A MOULDERING CAVE."

WHERE the hoar Alleghany towers over the

clouds Thy GENIUS, Columbia, reclin'd, Her visage corroding anxiety shrouds, ? And her locks wanton wild to the winda

She weeps lest her sons should by fatal mischance,

Or jacobin phrensy be driven
To fraternize with infidel blood thirsty France,

And thus be abandon’d of heaven.

The ground was bedew'd with her fast falling

tears When lo! through the wide opening sky, On a bright cloud descending a SERAPH appears,

With a message of love from on high!

And thus he address’d the disconsolate dame :

“ Your despondence and wailing give o'er, For I am a ministering spirit of flame

Who guard blest Columbia's shore.

The storm of democracy soon will be past

And cloudless again be your skies, The true sons of freedom distinguished at last

From those, who assume its disguise.

For those, who true liberty ever oppos’d,

And your Washington dar'd to revile, In native deformity shall be disclos’d,

And no longer your freemen beguile.

Though Holland, Spain, Italy, Switzerland bend

To their falsely call’d freedom's control, While no other freedom their tyrants intend

Than to tyrannise over the whole ;

Should Europe all bow to dire jacobin' sway,

To Columbians the charter was given That tyrants should never her freemen dismay, And the franchise recorded in heaven.”

THE RUSTICK REVEL.

BUCK and beau, and belle and beldam,
Seems to me we dance but seldom,
Fopling spruce, and damsel taper,
All convene, and have a caper.

Not a dance we've had this long time; But you tell me 'tis a wrong time, That 'twas never hotter known Even in Africk's torrid zone. Hot enough to melt the devil ; Sure 'ris foolish then to revel.

Truce with preaching; take on paper, Names of those who grace our caper; See what lasses we can pick up For our famous village kick up; Manage matters with formality, We'll have none except the QUALITY.

Put us down the squire and lawyer,
Nancy Tubbs, and Betty Sawyer;
Jenny Jinks is somewhat brown, ·
Joe, her brother, quite a clown :
True, but this one thing I'd speak on,
Their good father is a deacon,
And, if we should leave them out,
Pious deacon would, no doubt,
Beat it into many a thick-head
That our junketing is wicked ;
Make in parish deal of rumpus,
People vex'd enough to thump us.

Lest we have a scanty ball
Put down married folks, and all.
Peter Grievous, and his black wife,
Though they both have had the jack-knife, *
Still are rich, and cut a dash,
Put them down, for they have cash.

* In New England they have a custom of presenting a person who has an ugly appearance with a jack-knife. The donee, in such case, preserves the present till he can find some one whose ugly phiz, in his opinion, gives him a superiour claim to the favour.

Dicky Dapper, lady's man, Must be noted in our plan, Though his brains won't fill a thimble, Dicky Dapper dances nimble.

Betty Bilbo too, the heiress, Though her homely phiz might scare us, Many a lad would fain get round her, For she is a thousand pounder.

Matters now adjusted right, Let us dance this very night; Send for Sambo with his fiddle, Tiddle diddle, tiddle diddle. Speak to landlord, and his lady, Bid them make the ball-room ready, Stores of punch, of wine, and brandy, Cake and cheese must all be handy ; Seize the moment ere it passes, Lads send billets to your lasses ; Almost time we should begin it, Tackle chaise in half a minute. Polly, prettiest of a million, Ride behind me on a pillion ;

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