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CUPID'S PROMISE.

PARAPHRASED FROM THE FRENCH.

SOFT Cupid, wanton, amorous boy,
The other day, moved with my lyre,
In flattering accents spoke his joy,
And utter'd thus his fond desire:

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Oh! raise thy voice, one song I ask, Touch, then, the' harmonious string; To Thyrsis easy is the task,

Who can so sweetly play and sing.

Two kisses from my mother dear, Thyrsis, thy due reward shall be; None, none, like Beauty's queen is fair; Paris has vouch'd this truth for me.'

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I straight replied, Thou know'st, alone,
That brightest Chloe rules my breast;
I'll sing thee two instead of one,

If thou 'lt be kind, and make me bless'd.

One kiss from Chloe's lips, no more,
I crave.'-He promised me success :
I play'd with all my skill and pow'r,
My glowing passion to express:-

But, oh! my Chloe, beauteous maid,

Wilt thou the wish'd reward bestow? Wilt thou make good what Love has said, And, by thy grant, his power show?

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SONGS AND BALLADS.

THE

THIEF AND CORDELIER.

A BALLAD.

To the tune of King John and the Abbot of Canterbury.'

WHO has e'er been at Paris must needs know the

Greve,

The fatal retreat of the' unfortunate brave, Where honour and justice most oddly contribute To ease heroes' pains by a halter and gibbet.

Derry down, down, hey derry down.

There death breaks the shackles which force had put on, [begun ; And the hangman completes what the judge but There the Squire of the Pad and the Knight of [no more cross'd.

the Post,

Find their pains no more balk'd, and their hopes Derry down, &c.

Great claims are there made, and great secrets are

known,

[own;

And the king, and the law, and the thief, has his But my hearers cry out, What a deuce dost thou Cut off thy reflections, and give us thy tale.' [ail? Derry down, &c.

"Twas there then, in civil respect to harsh laws,
And for want of false witness to back a bad cause,
A Norman, though late, was obliged to appear,
And who to assist, but a grave Cordelier?
Derry down, &c.

The Squire, whose good grace was to open the

scene,

Seem'd not in great haste that the show should

begin;

Now fitted the halter, now traversed the cart, And often took leave, but was loath to depart. Derry down, &c.

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What frightens you thus, my good son? (says the priest)

You murder'd, are sorry, and have been confess'd.' 'O Father! my sorrow will scarce save my bacon, For 'twas not that I murder'd, but that I was taken.' Derry down, &c.

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Pugh! pr'y thee ne'er trouble thy head with such fancies;

Rely on the aid you shall have from Saint Francis ; If the money you promised be brought to the chest, You have only to die; let the Church do the rest. Derry down, &c.

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And what will folks say if they see you afraid? It reflects upon me, as I knew not my trade: Courage, friend, for to-day is your period of sorrow, And things will go better, believe me, to-morrow.' Derry down, &c.

To-morrow! (our hero replied, in a fright,)

He that's hang'd before noon, ought to think of

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to-night.'

Tell your beads, (quoth the priest) and be fairly truss'd up,

For you surely to-night shall in Paradise sup.'
Derry down, &c.

Alas! (quoth the Squire,) howe'er sumptuous the treat,

Parbleu, I shall have little stomach to eat;
I should therefore esteem it great favour and grace,
Would you be so kind as to go in my place.'
Derry down, &c.

That I would, (quoth the Father) and thank you to boot,

But our actions, you know, with our duty must suit:
The feast I proposed to you I cannot taste,
For this night, by our Order, is mark'd for a fast.'
Derry down, &c.

Then turning about to the hangman, he said,

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Dispatch me, I pr'y thee, this troublesome blade; For thy cord and my cord both equally tie, And we live by the gold for which other men die.' Derry down, &c.

IN vain

SONG.

you tell your parting lover—

You wish fair winds may waft him over:
Alas! what winds can happy prove,
That bear me far from what I love?
Alas! what dangers on the main
Can equal those that I sustain,
From slighted vows and cold disdain?

Be gentle, and in pity choose
To wish the wildest tempests loose,
That, thrown again upon the coast
Where first my shipwreck'd heart was lost,
I may once more repeat my pain;
Once more in dying notes complain
Of slighted vows and cold disdain.

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