Oh! would your pity give my heart

One corner of your breast; "Twould learn of yours the winning art,

And quickly steal the rest.

[R. B. SHERIDAN.]

Ah! cruel maid, how hast thou chang’d

The temper of my mind!
My heart by thee from mirth estrang’d,

Becomes like thee unkind.

By fortune favour'd, clear in fame,

I once ambitious was ; And friends I had that fann'd the flame,

And gave my youth applause.

But now my weakness all abuse,

Yet vain their taunts on me; Friends, fortune, fame itself, I'd lose,

To gain one smile from thee.

Yet only thou should'st not despise

My folly or my woe;
If I am mad in others' eyes

"Tis thou hast made them so,

But days like these, with doubting curs’d,

I will not long endure
Am I despis'd-I know the worst,
And also know

my cure.

If, false, her vows she dare renounce,

She instant ends my pain,
For oh ! that heart must break at once

Which cannot hate again.

[R. B. SHERIDAN.]

Ask'st thou " how long my love shall stay,

“ When all that's new is past?" How long? ah, Delia ! can I say

How long my life will last?
Dry be that tear-be hush'd that sigh;
At least, I'll love thee till I die.

And does that thought affect thee too,

The thought of Damon's death; That he who only lives for you,

Must yield his faithful breath? Hush'd be that sigh, be dry that tear, Nor let us lose our heaven here,

THE ROSE.

[CowPER.]

TH

I E rose had been wash’d, just wash'd in a show'r,

Which Mary to Anna convey'd,
The plentiful moisture encumber'd the flow'r,

And weigh'd down its beautiful head.

The cups were all fill’d, and the leaves were all wet,

And it seem’d, to a fanciful view,
To weep for the buds it had left with regret

On the flourishing bush where it grew.

I hastily seiz'd it, unfit as is was

For a nosegay, so dripping and drown'd, And swinging it rudely, too rudely alas !

I snapp'd it, it fell to the ground.

And such I exclaim'd, is the pitiless part,

Some act by the delicate mind,
Regardless of wringing, and breaking a heart

Already to sorrow resign'd.

This elegant rose, had I shaken it less,

Might have bloom'd with its owner awhile, And the tear that is wip'd with a little address,

May be follow'd perhaps by a smile,

SALLY IN OUR ALLEY.

[HENRY CAREY.]

Of all the girls that are so smart,

There's none like pretty Sally; She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley, There is no lady in the land,

Is half so sweet as Sally : She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

Her father he makes cabbage-nets,

And through the steets does cry 'em ; Her mother she sells laces long,

To such as please to buy 'em :
But sure such folks could ne'er beget

So sweet a girl as Sally!
She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives our in our alley.

When she is by, I leave my work

(I love her so sincerely) My master comes like any Turk,

And bangs me most severely:

But, let him bang his belly full,

I'll bear it all for Sally; She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley,

Of all the days that's in the week,

I dearly love but one day;
And that's the day that comes betwixt

A Saturday and Monday;
For then I'm dress'd all in my best,

To walk abroad with Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

My master carries me to church,

And often am I blamed,
Because I leave him in the lurch,

As soon as text is named :
I leave the church in sermon time,

And slink away to Sally;
She is the darling of my heart

And she lives in our alley.

When Christmas comes about again,

Oh then I shall have money ; I'll hoard it up, and box it all,

I'll give it to my honey :