When winter's cold brought frost and snow
He open'd house to all;
And though threescore and ten his
He featly led the ball;
Nor was the houseless wanderer
E'er driven from his hall,
For while he feasted all the great,
He ne'er forgot the small,
But time, though sweet, is strong in fight,
And years roll swiftly by,
And autumn's falling leaves proclaim'd
The old man-he must die!
He laid him down right tranquilly,
Gave up life's latest sigh,
And mournful stillness reign'd around,
And tears bedew'd each eye,
For this good, &c.
Now surely this is better far
Than all the new parade
Of theatres and fancy balls,
"At home," and masquerade ;
And much more economical,
For all his bills are paid.
Then leave your new vagaries quite,
And take up the old trade
Of a fine old English gentleman, &c.
In the dreary winter weather,
When the winds without are cold,
When old friends meet all together,
Songs are sung and tales are told;
Round the hearth, a joyous greeting,
Is there more that you require
To make up your merry meeting?
Stir the fire-stir the fire!
Words of welcome may be spoken,
Hands in kindness may be press'd,
But of ev'ry friendly token
Hospitality's the best;
Then when mirth is at the strongest,
(Good old customs never tire)
Let the one who's known you longest
Stir the fire-stir the fire!
When there comes a time of sorrow
And your friends look dark and cold,
Never strive of them to borrow,
Friends are parted oft by gold;
On your own heart be relying
To obtain what you desire,
There some embers must be lying,-
Stir the fire--stir the fire!
But when old friends prove kind-hearted,
Oh! how sweet it is to meet
Once again the long departed
In his old accustom'd seat;
Then when mirth is at the strongest
(Good old customs never tire)
Let the one who's known you longest
Stir the fire-stir the fire!
́All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd,
The streamers waving in the wind,
When black-eyed Susan came on board,
"Oh! where shall I my true-love find?
Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
Does my sweet William sail among your crew?”
William, who high upon the yard
Rock'd by the billows to and fro,
Soon as the well-known voice he heard,
He sigh'd and cast his eye below;
The cord flies swiftly through his glowing hands,
And quick as lightning on the deck he stands.
"O Susan, Susan-lovely dear,
My vows shall always true remain;
Let me kiss off that falling tear,
We only part to meet again.
Change as ye list, ye winds, my heart shall be
The faithful compass that still points to thee.
"Believe not what the landsmen say,
Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind;
They tell thee sailors, when away,
In every port a mistress find;
Yes, yes, believe them when they tell you so,
For thou art present wheresoe'er I go.'
The boatswain gave the dreadful word,
The sails their swelling bosom spread;
No longer she must stay on board-
They kiss'd-she sigh'd-he hung his head.
Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land,
"Adieu!" she cried, and wav'd her lily hand.
It seems to me but yesterday,
When at my mother's knee,
I bow'd my head, and breath'd the prayer
She whisper'd first to me:
Her gentle voice is on my ear,
And oh how sweet its tone;
Yet knew I not how great her love
Until that love was gone.
It seems to me but yesterday,
When at my father's side,
I conn'd the books he kindly gave,
Or bounded in my pride:
I well remember how his smile
Oft kindled up my own;
Yet knew I not how great his love
Until that love was gone.
Ah! may we from experience learn
Our present joys to prize,
So that when banish'd, Time shall leave
No mournful memories.
Let kindness be by kindness met,
No self-upbraiding tone
Shall then commingle with the sigh
For Love and Friendship gone.
[Music by ANN FRICKER.
Summer dies and leaves no traces,
Flow'rets bloom, then fade away,
Winter comes, and vacant places,-
But the loved ones, where are they?
Spring returns as bright as ever,
Bud and blossom fill the bough,
In those vacant places never
May the loved ones greet us now.
Yet we would not lose the traces
That fond mem'ry can restore;
Few can fill the vacant places
Like the dear ones loved of yore.
Not alone within our dwelling,
Pictured by the empty chair,
Ask the heart, 'twill answer, telling
There are vacant places there:
Left by those that once we cherish'd,
Made by friends once deem'd sincere,
Caused by hopes that early perish'd,
And but left the heart more drear.
Yes! the heart has many traces
That fond mem'ry can restore,
Leaving there but vacant places
That the loved ones filled of yore.
When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in the pail;
When blood is nipt, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whoo!
Tu-whit! tu-whoo! a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drown the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marion's nose looks red and raw;
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whoo!
Tu-whit! tu-whoo! a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
THE QUEEN OF THE FLOWERS.
[Music by BIANCHI TAYLOR.
I'm the queen of the flowers,
And though brief is my reign,
All the bright summer hours
I my kingdom retain;
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