Our Carpenters will not com-plain a great deal,
If their hand is but set to the right sort of ciel.-
Our Pumpmakers feeling oft puts in a pucker,
When such subjects are handled, they're sure to give succour.
Derry down, &c.
Our Hatters defend our Republic's renown,
Tho' they wish every man to live under the Crown;
Like Old France, they would bring to the block every cap,
And do homage at last to imperial Nap,
Our Clockmakers suit not our enemies' liking,
If they once move their hands, the effect is most striking ;
Our Watchmaker's spring, that's the juice of the grape meant
In this Watch glass, from which there's I'm sure no escape-meant.
Unless down, &c.
Our Shipwrights, and Millwrights, and Housewrights, and
Wheelwrights,
Should the voice of oppression but breathe to repeal rights,
The Millwright would Clack, and the Housewright would flame,
The Wheelwright be Spokesman, the Shipwright would frame.
A down, &c.
Our Turners, I guess, must come in for their turn,
May they keep fortune's top till they go to the urn ;—
Our Workers in Stucco old maids ought to flatter,
They're the boys who can put a good face on the matter.
Derry down, &c.
May our Saddlers ne'er lack a good saddle of mutton
To their cloth, when a poor, but old friend, wants to cut on.
Here's a stave to the head and the heart, of each Cooper,
And a sigh to the mem'ry of one noble Hooper,
Our Glass-blower's lustre is lent to a brother,
He sees through his own errors, and pities another.-
Our Engravers, of course, must fall into the line,
A proof the impression's remarkably fine.
Our Sugar-refiners, too, gladly we meet,
For Charity's sure to have them in her suite ;---
Our Brewers must put in their oar at this feast,
For may we not call them wise men of the Yeast?
Derry down, &c.
From the Rock of the Mason life's waters we bring,
They are pour'd forth as pure as the scriptural spring,
As the Iris of Heav'n, the heart of Hope cheers,
To the Widow and Orphan, our bright Arch appears.
Derry down, &c.
Here's a health to our Mayor, while he fills such a station
He'll ne'er be in want of a good Corporation;
But the length of this ditty my conscience upbraids,
So I hope that you'll pardon a Jack of all trades.
WHEN God bade the Earth "BE" from Chaos and night,
And smiled on the form of his lovely creation;
He blessed the new mansion with beauty and light,
And gave it to man for his fair habitation.
'On the wide land, I give thee,
Go cheerful to toil;
And gain with thy hands,
The rich fruits of the soil;
And full be the harvests thy labours increase,
With the blessings of Health, and the safety of Peace.'
Then fell the hill-forest, and lo! in its place,
Fair temples arose at the voice of Devotion;
Deep fields spread their tributes of plenty and grace,
And cities rock-built fence the borders of Ocean.
But more dear than the fortress,
More blest than the dome,
Was the low-roof he builded
And called it "
Which smiles o'er the harvests his labours increase,
With Affection and Love in the safety of Peace."
He tempts the dark ocean and launches afar,
His castles high-winged to its uttermost distance,
To bear the deep voice of his thunders in war,
And win lovely peace, by a gallant resistance;
Or in nobler employ,
The full blessings to spread,
Of the labours of Art,
And the products of Trade
And in Enterprize crown'd bid his treasures increase,
With the Glory of War, and the safety of Peace.
And hail to the Art, which its Glory has found,
By Freedom and Truth the vast world to enlighten;
To cast the pure lustre of knowledge around,
And kindle the torches that bless as they brighten;
To weakness lend strength,
To oppression redress;
To Freedom its triumph,
All hail to the PRESS,
And hail to the Light which its labours increase,
Of Science and Art in the safety of peace.
And hail to our Land, may her pathway be spread
With the Heaven-cherished gifts of Truth, Virtue, and Science; And Fame track her foot-steps wherever she tread
Her Arts built on Virtue, in God her reliance:
Her banner in triumph
O'er ocean be borne
And the wise, and the brave,
Her bright records adorn,
And to ages on ages her Glories increase,
With the triumphs of War, or the safety of Peace.
WITH Old Archimedes we've nothing to do,
Who would move the whole globe with a lever and screw;
One modern invention would upset his whole scheme,
And show this great world's moved entirely by steam.
Derry down, down, &c.
Euclid sure must have liv'd in a barbarous age,
Though rank'd as a prime math'matician and sage;
And Pythagoras knew but little 'twould seem,
For his single Ereuka, we've now a whole team.
Had Franklin continued about forty years more,
We might show him discov'ries, ne'er thought on before-
And which old Philosophers never could dream,
How that Science and Arts were perfected by Steam.
Derry down, &c.
And were we to lump former great men together, There would be little difference found betwixt either; They knew not, poor souls, that posterity's scheme, Would solve all their problems entirely by Steam. Derry down, &c.
There's young spark in love, and the old one in debt
Who depend upon promise, unrealiz❜d yet-
Their prospects and promises are nothing but trash,
It is Steam rewards love, and 'tis Steam pays the cash.
Down, down, &c.
The Theorist's projects, the Merchant's account,
The bills of Mechanics, whate'er the amount,
And the hopes of promotion in office, we deem,
Are often, too often, paid wholly by Steam.
There's the Epicure, friend both to butcher and cook,
Who has studied each page of great Kitchener's book;
Of Count Rumford's invention will frequently dream,
Where fifty choice dishes are, at once, mov'd by Steam.
Derry down, &c.
"Twere sufficiently easy to show that the Fair
Can be managed by Steam just as other things are;
And 'tis settled at once, which all can attest,
That high pressure principles suit them the best.
Derry down, &c.
One thing still remains, which 'gainst our age is scor'd, That we'll always renew and redeem round this board, 'Tis our country's, 'tis honour's, 'tis gratitude's debt, Which shall never be paid in Steam to FAYETTE. Derry down, &c.
HAIL TO THE HERO WHO VISITS OUR CLIME.
TUNE-"Wreaths for the Chieftain.”
HAIL to the Hero! who visits our clime,
Wreath'd with the laurel his bravery bought,-
O'er the transits of empire he rises sublime!
And comes in his fame to the land where he fought.
A nation shall meet him,
With hearts that can love, and with souls that can feel;
Illustrious LAFAYETTE,
THEE we can ne'er forget
While powder explodes, or while death is in steel!
Hail to Columbia! the birth place of glory,
Her motto is Liberty, Courage her shield,
Inscrib'd be her name in the annals of story,
Wise in the Senate, and brave in the field,—
May her Sons emulate,
All that is good and great,
Glorious in war, and illustrious in peace,
May Agriculture yield
Stores from her fruitful field,
May Factories thrive, and may Commerce increase.
Hail to the Arts! and long may they flourish,
May the Altars of Fame with their tributes be graced,
May Science approve and patronage nourish
The efforts of Genius, the offerings of taste,
Oh! may the magic wand
Of STEWART's all powerful hand,
Descend with his fame to embellish our clime,
Still may the pencil save
From oblivion's dark grave,
All that is beautiful! great and sublime !
Hail to the glorious "INVENTION OF LETTERS."
That open'd the flood-gates of SCIENCE to man!
When Genius sprang lightly, releas'd from her fetters,
And spread to the World, her celestial plan;
The plants she had nourished,
The flowers she had cherish'dGrew lovely, but wild, in her own native clime, "Till she rais'd them from earth,
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