Wild is thy lay and loud, Love gives it energy, love gave it birth! Where art thou journeying? Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth. O'er fell and mountain sheen, O'er moor and mountain green, Over the rainbow's rim, Musical cherub-hie, hie thee away! Then when the gloaming comes, Low in the heather blooms Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be; Bless'd is thy dwelling-place : Oh! to abide in the desert with thee! SALLY IN OUR ALLEY. H. CAREY.] [Music by H. CAREY. Of all the girls that are so smart, Her father he makes cabbage nets, Her mother, she sells laces long To such as please to buy 'em. She is the darling of my heart, When she is by I leave my work- My master comes, like any Turk, And bangs me most severely. Of all the days that're in the week And that's the day that comes between For then I'm drest all in my best, When Christmas comes about again, And would it were ten thousand pounds, I'd give it all to Sally She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley. My master and the neighbours all And but for her I'd better be A slave and row a galley. But when my seven long years are out, Oh! then how happy we shall be, FLAG OF BRITANNIA. Capt. CHAMIER.] [Music by J. P. KNIGHT. Land of the loyal and isle of the free, The bulwark of freedom and Queen of the Sea Hark! hark! to the sound of the cannon afar, Our bulwarks at foreign invasion may smile, Whilst the flag of Britannia still waves o'er our isle. From the Tay to the Tweed, from the south to the north, Hail, Liberty, hail! may thy torch, ever bright, May they learn from the land of the brave and the free I LOVE TO FOLLOW THE HONEY BEE. J. P. DOUGLAS.] [Music by G. GLOVER. I love to follow the honey-bee In lonely summer bowers, And watch the wings, so light and free, It trolls its merry lay, And drinks a vintage bright and rare When first I follow'd the honey-bee A step more light, a heart more free, The wine of hope I gaily quaff'd I sung, I play'd, I danced, I laugh'd- Far away in heathery dells, Whose banks of fern and wild bluebells The dearest yet to me, And ever, as then, my spirit pants THE WINDS WHISTLE COLD. D. TERRY.] The winds whistle cold, [Music by BISHOP. And the stars glimmer red; The flocks are in fold, And the cattle in shed. When the hoar-frost was chill And was fringing the forest bough, And so will we do now! Gaffer Winter may seize When Boreas was bending his brow; For they quaff'd mighty ale, And they told a blithe tale, And so will we do now, And so will we do now THE HOME OF THE HEART. The heart has many a dwelling spot In many a land where human lot But time, nor change, can e'er efface The cot may for a palace change But this can ne'er our love estrange That truth, which memory loves to trace, That the heart has many a dwelling-place, Young filial love, all given by time With sunny beam and voiceful chime May light and cheer our way; That the heart has many a dwelling-place, IS THERE A HEART. S. J. ARNOLD.] [Music by J. BRAHAM, Is there a heart that never loved, Oh, bear him to some distant shore, Where nought but savage monsters roar, |