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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #53156 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53156)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rhymes of Northern Bards, by Various
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Rhymes of Northern Bards
-       Being a Curious Collection of Old and New Songs and Poems,
-       Peculiar to the Counties of Newcastle upon Tyne,
-       Northumberland, and Durham
-
-Author: Various
-
-Editor: John Bell
-
-Release Date: September 28, 2016 [EBook #53156]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RHYMES OF NORTHERN BARDS ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Jonathan Ingram and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-Transcriber’s Note: Period and dialect spelling, inconsistent
-hyphenation, etc. are preserved as printed.
-
-
-
-
-                                RHYMES
-                                  OF
-                           _Northern Bards_:
-
-                            BEING A CURIOUS
-                              COLLECTION
-                            OF OLD AND NEW
-                          _SONGS AND POEMS_,
-
-                      Peculiar to the Counties of
-                         _NEWCASTLE UPON TYNE,
-                     NORTHUMBERLAND, AND DURHAM_.
-
-                       EDITED BY JOHN BELL, JUN.
-
-                            [Illustration]
-
-            “NORTHUMBRIA’S SONS STAND FORTH, BY ALL CONFEST,
-              THE FIRST AND FIRMEST OF FAIR FREEDOM’S TRAIN;
-            EACH BRAVE NORTHUMBRIAN NURSES IN HIS BREAST
-              THE SACRED SPARK, UNSULLIED BY A STAIN.”
-
-                         Newcastle upon Tyne:
-      Printed for John Bell, by M. Angus & Son, and sold by them,
-                    and other Booksellers in Town.
-                               MDCCCXII.
-
-
-
-
-LINES _SENT TO THE EDITOR AND PRINTER_.
-
-
-  Proceed, ye generous friends of Tyne,
-    And prosperous be your way;
-  How happy, would our sons incline
-    To catch the improving ray!
-  With heart and hand your friendship join,
-    Bring Taste and Genius forth;
-  That all may own Newcastle Town,
-    Emporium of the North.
-
-
-
-
-PREFACE.
-
-
-  _Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,_
-  _Thinks what ne’er was, nor is, nor e’er shall be._
-
-                                              POPE.
-
-“Give me the writing of all the Ballads, for the people of England, and
-let who will be their law-giver,” was said by a celebrated orator, in
-speaking on the manners of the people:--this cheering ray, in behalf of
-ballad writing, gave rise to the publication of the following pages:
-for how many of these simple, yet popular effusions, have been lost
-for want of a repository to give them a chance of living a day beyond
-the time they were written?--As such, the _Summum Bonum_ of my labours
-is to rescue from the yawning jaws of oblivion the productions of the
-Bards of the Tyne; and by so doing, hand them down to future ages as
-Reliques of Provincial Poetry:--But, conscious of the liability of
-personal allusions in the generality of provincial poems, the words of
-the poet have been kept in mind:--
-
-  “Curs’d be the verse, how well soe’er it flow,
-  Which tends to make one _worthy_ man my foe!”
-
-Those who may have expected a matchless collection, and find it
-inferior to other poetical selections, will please to think of the
-following Italian proverb:--
-
-    “CHI LAVA LA TESTA AL ASINO PERDE IL SAPONE.”
-
-and accept the same from their
-
-                           Obedient Servant,
-
-                                            THE EDITOR.
-
-    _Newcastle upon Tyne,
-       August, 1812._
-
-
-
-
-VERSES ON _NORTHUMBERLAND MINSTRELSY._
-
-
-BY H.R.
-
-  With taste so true, and genius fine,
-  The blythsome MINSTERELS of langsyne,
-  Sung sweetly ’tween the Tweed and Tyne,
-                        Of war and love;
-  Sounding their melody divine,
-                        Thro’ ev’ry grove.
-
-  Northumbria’s waters, woods, and plains,
-  Her hills and dales, her nymphs and swains,
-  Her rural sports, in sweetest strains,
-                        The Poets sung;
-  Till echo, thro’ her wide domains,
-                        Responsive rung.
-
-  In witty songs and verses _kittle_[1],
-  Who could compare with THOMAS WHITTLE?
-  The Cambo blade, who to a tittle,
-                        Describ’d each feature;
-  At _painting_, too, he varied little
-                        From mother Nature.
-
-  Her PIPERS also knew the art
-  To touch the soul, and warm the heart;
-  Such chearing strains they could impart,
-                        That cank’ring care,
-  From ev’ry breast away would start,
-                        To pine elsewhere.
-
-  When at the harvest, every year,
-  They play’d, the reapers’ hearts to chear;
-  The soft-link’d notes, so sweet and clear,
-                        Made labour light;
-  And many a merry jig, I swear,
-                        They danc’d each night.
-
-[1] Lively.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-  _Old Tyne shall listen to my Tale,_
-  _And Echo, down the bordering Vale,_
-  _The Liquid Melody prolong._
-
-                             AKENSIDE.
-
-
-
-
-SONGS.
-
-
-
-
-WEEL MAY THE KEEL ROW.
-
-
-  As I cam thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate,
-    As I cam thro’ Sandgate, I heard a lassie sing,
-  Weel may the keel row, the keel row, the keel row,
-    Weel may the keel row, that my laddie’s in.
-
-  He wears a blue bonnet, blue bonnet, blue bonnet,
-    He wears a blue bonnet, a dimple in his chin:
-  And weel may the keel row, the keel row, the keel row,
-    And weel may the keel row, that my laddie’s in.
-
-
-
-
-THE NEW KEEL ROW.
-
-
-_By_ T.T.--_To the old Tune._
-
-  Whe’s like my Johnny,
-  Sae leish, sae blithe, sae bonny,
-  He’s foremost ’mang the mony
-      Keel lads o’ Coaly Tyne;
-
-  He’ll set or row so tightly,
-  Or in the dance so sprightly,
-  He’ll cut and shuffle sightly,
-      ’Tis true--were he not mine.
-
-            Weel may the keel row,
-            The keel row, the keel row,
-            Weel may the keel row,
-                That my laddie’s in:
-            He wears a blue bonnet,
-            A bonnet, a bonnet,
-            He wears a blue bonnet,
-                A dimple in his chin.
-
-  He’s ne mair learning,
-  Than tells his weekly earning,
-  Yet reet frae wrang discerning,
-      Tho’ brave, ne bruiser he;
-  Tho’ he no worth a plack is,
-  His awn coat on his back is,
-  And nane can say that black is
-      The white o’ Johnny’s ee.
-
-  Each pay-day nearly,
-  He takes his quairt right dearly,
-  Then talks O, latin O,--cheerly,
-      Or mavies jaws away;
-  How caring not a feather,
-  Nelson and he together,
-  The springy French did lether,
-      And gar’d them shab away.
-
-  Were a’ kings comparely,
-  In each I’d spy a fairly,
-  An’ ay wad Johnny barly,
-      He gets sic bonny bairns;
-  Go bon, the queen, or misses,
-  But wad for Johnny’s kisses,
-  Luik upon as blisses,
-      Scrimp meals, caff beds, and dairns.
-
-  Wour lads, like their deddy,
-  To fight the French are ready,
-  But gie’s a peace that’s steady,
-      And breed cheap as lang syne;
-  May a’ the press gangs perish,
-  Each lass her laddy cherish:
-  Lang may the Coal Trade flourish
-      Upon the dingy Tyne.
-
-  Breet Star o’ Heaton,
-  Your ay wour darling sweet’en,
-  May heaven’s blessings leet on
-      Your leady, bairns, and ye;
-  God bless the King and Nation,
-  Each bravely fill his station,
-  Our canny _Corporation_,
-      Lang may they sing wi’ me,
-
-            Weel may the keel row, &c.
-
-
-
-
-BONNY KEEL LADDIE.
-
-
-  My bonny keel laddie, my canny keel laddie,
-    My bonny keel laddie for me O!
-  He sits in his keel as black as the deil,
-    And he brings the white money to me O.
-
-  Ha’ye seen owt o’ my canny man,
-    An’ are ye shure he’s weel O?
-  He’s geane o’er land wiv a stick in his hand,
-    T’ help to moor the keel O.
-
-  The canny keel laddie, the bonny keel laddie,
-    The canny keel laddie for me O;
-  He sits in his huddock, and claws his bare buttock,
-    And brings the white money to me O.
-
-
-
-
-THE LITTLE P.D.
-
-
-  ’Twas between Hebbron and Jarrow,
-    There cam on a very strang gale,
-  The skipper look’d out o’ th’ huddock,
-    Crying, “Smash, man, lower th’ sail!
-  Smash, man, lower the sail,
-    Or else to the bottom we’ll go:”
-  The keel and a’ hands wad been lost,
-    Had it not been for Jemmy Munro.
-                                Fal lal, &c.
-
-  The gale blew stranger an’ stranger,
-    When they cam beside the Muck House,
-  The skipper cry’d out--“Jemmy Swinger,”
-    But still was as fear’d as a mouse;
-  P.D. ran to clear th’ anchor,
-    “It’s raffl’d!” right loudly he roar’d,--
-  They a’ said the gale wad sink her,
-    If it was’nt seun thrawn owrboard.
-
-  The laddy ran sweaten, ran sweaten,
-    The laddy ran sweaten about;
-  Till the keel went bump ’gainst Jarrow,
-    And three o’ th’ bullies lap out;
-  Three o’ th’ bullies lap out,
-    And left nyen in but little P.D.
-  Who ran about stamping and crying--
-    “How! smash, Skipper, what mun a’ dee?”
-
-  They all shouted out fra the kee,
-    Steer her close in by th’ shore;
-  And then thraw th’ painter to me,
-    Thou cat feac’d son of a wh--e.
-  The lad threw the painter ashore,
-    They fasten’d her up to th’ kee,
-  But whe knaws how far she meit gane,
-    Had it not been for little P.D.
-
-  Then into th’ huddock they gat,
-    And th’ flesh they began to fry,
-  They talk’d o’ the gale as they sat,
-    And how a’ hands were lost--very nigh.
-  The skipper roar’d out for a drink,
-    P.D. ran to bring him the cann,
-  But odsmash! mun! what d’ye think?--
-    He coup’d a’ the flesh out o’ the pan!
-                                Fal lal, &c.
-
-
-
-
-MA’ CANNY HINNY.
-
-
-  Where hast’te been, ma’ canny hinny?
-  An where hast’te been, ma’ bonny bairn?
-  Aw was up and down seekin ma’ hinny,
-  Aw was thro’ the town seekin for my bairn;
-  Aw went up the Butcher Bank and down Grundin Chare,
-  Call’d at the Dun Cow, but aw cuddent find thee there.
-
-      Where hast’te been, ma’ canny hinny?
-      An where hast’te been, ma’ bonny bairn, &c.
-
-  Then aw went t’ th’ Cassel Garth, and caw’d on Johnny Fife.
-  The beer drawer tell’d me she ne’er saw thee in her life.
-
-          Where hast’te been, &c.
-
-  Then aw went into the three bulls heads, and down the Lang Stairs,
-  And a’ the way alang the Close, as far as Mr Mayor’s.
-
-          Where hast’te been, &c.
-
-  Fra there aw went alang the brig, an up t’ Jackson’s Chare,
-  Then back again t’ the Cross Keys, but cuddent find thee there.
-
-          Where hast’te been, &c.
-
-  Then comin out o’ Pipergate, aw met wi’ Willy Rigg,
-  Whe tell’d me that he saw thee stannin p----n on the brig.
-
-          Where hast’te been, &c.
-
-  Cummin alang the brig again, aw met wi’ Cristy Gee,
-  He tell’d me et he saw thee gannin down Humeses entery.
-
-          Where hast’te been, &c.
-
-  Where hev aw been! aw sune can tell ye that;
-  Cummin up the Key, aw met wi’ Peter Pratt,
-  Meetin Peter Pratt, we met wi’ Tommy Wear,
-  An went t’ Humeses t’ get a gill o’ beer.
-
-  There’s where a’ve been, ma’ canny hinny,
-  There’s where a’ve been, ma’ bonny lam.
-  Wast’tu up an down seekin for yur hinny?
-  Wast’tu up an down seeking for yur lam.
-
-  Then aw met yur Ben, an we were like to fight;
-  An when we cam to Sandgate it was pick night;
-  Crossin the road, aw met wi’ Bobby Swinny:
-  Hing on the girdle, let’s hev a singin hinny.
-
-      Aw my sorrow’s ower now, a’ve fund my hinny,
-      Aw my sorrow’s ower now, a’ve fund my bairn;
-      Lang may aw shout, ma’ canny hinny,
-      Lang may aw shout, ma’ bonny bairn.
-
-
-
-
-DOL LI A.
-
-
-_A Song famous in Newcastle about the Years 1792-3-4._
-
-  Fresh I’m cum fra Sandgate Street,
-                    Do li, do li,
-  My best friends here to meet,
-                        Do li a,
-                    Dol li th’ dil len dol,
-                        Do li, do li,
-                    Dol li th’ dil len dol,
-                        Dol li a.
-
-  The Black Cuffs is gawn away,
-                    Do li, do li,
-  An that will be a crying day.
-                        Do li a, &c.
-
-  Dolly Coxon’s pawn’d her sark,
-                    Do li, do li,
-  To ride upon the baggage cart.
-                        Do li a, &c.
-
-  The Green Cuffs is cummin in,
-                    Do li, do li,
-  An that ’ill make the lasses sing.
-                        Do li a, &c.
-
-
-
-
-THE TYNE.
-
-
-_By J. Gibson, of Newcastle._
-
-  Roll on thy way, thrice happy Tyne!
-  Commerce and riches still are thine;
-  Thy sons in every art shall shine,
-    And make thee more majestic flow.
-
-  The busy crowd that throngs thy sides,
-  And on thy dusky bosom glides,
-  With riches swell thy flowing tides,
-    And bless the soil were thou dost flow.
-
-  Thy valiant sons, in days of old,
-  Led by their Chieftains, brave and bold,
-  Fought not for wealth, or shining gold,
-    But to defend thy happy shores.
-
-  So e’en as they of old have bled,
-  And oft embrac’d a gory bed,
-  Thy modern sons, by Ridleys led,
-    Shall rise to shield thy peace-crown’d shores.
-
-  Nor art thou blest for this alone,
-  That long thy sons in arms have shone;
-  For every art to them is known,
-    And science, form’d to grace the mind.
-
-  Art, curb’d by War in former days,
-  Has now burst forth in one bright blaze;
-  And long shall his refulgent rays
-    Shine bright, and darkness leave behind.
-
-  The Muses too, with Freedom crown’d,
-  Shall on thy happy shores be found,
-  And fill the air with joyous sound
-    Of--War and Darkness’ overthrow.
-
-  Then roll thy way, thrice happy Tyne!
-  Commerce and riches still are thine!
-  Thy sons in arts and arms shall shine,
-    And make thee still majestic flow.
-
-
-
-
-BLACKETT’s FIELD.
-
-
-BY J. SHIELD, OF NEWCASTLE.
-
-Tune--_John Anderson my Jo_.
-
-On account of the confined limits of the Parade Ground of the Loyal
-Newcastle Associated Corps of Volunteer Infantry, it was found
-necessary to lock the door during the time of drill, to prevent the
-crowd interfering with the evolutions of the corps.--This circumstance
-gave rise to the song.
-
-  Near Blackett’s Field, sad hov’ring,
-    (’Twas but the other day,)
-  Thus sung a melancholy wight
-    His pity-moving lay:--
-  How comes this alteration strange!
-    What can the matter be,
-  That the brave Association Lads
-    Are under lock and key?
-
-  Ah! lately, on a Sunday,
-    To dine I hardly staid,--
-  But from my beef and pudding ran,
-    T’ attend the gay parade!
-  Now I may stay and pick my bones,
-    From anxious hurry free;
-  For the brave Association Lads
-    Are under lock and key!
-
-  A dimpling smile still grac’d my cheek,
-    Brave D----n when I saw;
-  ’Twas worth a crown to hear him, too,
-    Exclaiming ‘_Kiver awa’!_’
-  But thus to feast my eyes and ears
-    No more my lot shall be;
-  For the brave Association Lads
-    Are under lock and key!
-
-  To church now, when the bells are heard,
-    With snail-like pace I creep;
-  And there, in manner most devout,
-    Compose myself to sleep!
-  Thus cheerless pass the ling’ring hours,
-    So lately fraught with glee,
-  Ere the brave Association Lads
-    Were under lock and key!
-
-  For pity’s sake, then, Ridley!
-    Thy _turnkeys_ straight _discharge_,
-  And let thy armed Patriots
-    Again be drill’d _at large_:
-  So shall my Sunday afternoons,
-    In _gazing_, joyous flee,
-  When the brave Association Lads
-    Ar’n’t under lock, and key!
-
-  Think--urg’d by curiosity,
-    To climb the Spital walls,
-  Should any of thy neighbours there,
-    Sad, break their necks by falls.
-  O would not such mischances dire
-    Be justly charg’d on thee,
-  Who keeps the Association Lads
-    Thus under lock and key?
-
-  Imagine not thy warriors brave,
-    To glory who aspire,
-  Whilst thus _confin’d_ in Blackett’s field,
-    Their station much admire!
-  Ah! no; in _Heaton cellars_ they
-    Would rather chuse to be,
-  Most jovial, _carrying on the war_,
-    All under lock and key!
-
-  Whilst War’s horrific clangours
-    Resound throughout the land,
-  Still may’st thou, gallant Ridley,
-    Thy town’s-men brave command:
-  And, oh! that with your martial toils
-    Delighted I may be,
-  Ope wide the door of Blackett’s field;
-    Then break the lock and key!
-
-
-
-
-KIVER AWA’.
-
-
-  Like the wolves of the forest, ferocious and keen,
-    The French our blest shores may invade!
-  But in arms are the _Gotham Invincibles seen_,
-    And who’s of invasion afraid?
-  With ardour heroic each bosom inflames,
-    No dangers impress them with awe;
-  And merry they seem, when thus----exclaims,--
-    “Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’.”
-
-  Ye matrons be cheerful, ye virgins be gay,
-    Your protectors are valiant and true:
-  No more feel alarm’d, as your charms you survey,
-    At what Frenchmen _may venture to do_;
-  No danger shall reach you, no impudent Gaul,
-    Shall fill your soft bosoms with awe;
-  Whilst in tones energetic, thus ---- can bawl,--
-    “Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’, Kiver awa”.
-
-  No more let the wight, to misfortune a prey,
-    For relief to the bottle apply;
-  But to chace ev’ry painful remembrance away,
-    To _Parade_ let him instantly hie;
-  There ----, whilst ardently toiling for fame,
-    Each thorn from his bosom shall draw:
-  Ah! who can be sad, when they hear him exclaim,--
-    “Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’.”
-
-  Heav’n prosper thee, Gotham! thou famous old town,
-    Of the Tyne the chief glory and pride:
-  May thy heroes acquire immortal renown,
-    In the dread field of Mars, when they’re try’d:
-  Amongst them, O ne’er may _flincher_ be found;
-    And that mirth they from _duty_ may draw,
-  Long, long, through their ranks may these accents resound,--
-    “Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’.”
-
-_November, 1804._
-
-
-
-
-BRITANNIA’S VOLUNTEERS.
-
-
-_By S.G. Kemble, Esq. of Newcastle._
-
-Tune--The Newcastle Volunteers’ quick March.
-
-  When unprovok’d, when foreign foes,
-    When danger gave occasion,
-  Britannia’s Volunteers arose,
-    To shield her from invasion.
-
-  And still whilst other nations bow,
-    And lowly seek alliance,
-  Should France transgress again, they vow
-    To hurl a bold defiance.
-
-  The Sons of Tyne,--a youthful band,--
-    With ardent resolution,
-  First arm’d to guard their native land,
-    Their King and Constitution:
-
-  Again, whene’er the cause invites,
-    Our liberties revering,
-  To guard those dear, those sacred rights,
-    They’ll go a volunteering.
-
-  The shepherd now, beneath his shed,
-    At eve the dance provoking,
-  Takes up his lov’d neglected reed,
-    Long days of Peace invoking.
-
-  To plough-shares tho’ our swords we turn,
-    No more in arms appearing,
-  With Friendship still our bosoms burn,
-    Kind actions volunteering.
-
-
-
-
-JOHN DIGGONS.
-
-
-_By J. Stawpert, of Newcastle._
-
-_Tune_--Old England’s Roast Beef.
-
-  John Diggons be I, from a Country Town,
-  But the name is se lang and se bad to get down,
-  Tho’ I’ve swallow’d it often both morning and noon,
-        At present excuse me the pain,
-        Oh! at present excuse me the pain.
-
-  Father told I, this morning, with quickness to fly,
-  Away to Newcastle, I ask’d him for why?--
-  To learn something there, for her sons now stand high,
-        They’ve been fighting the French off Cadiz,
-        They’ve been fighting the French off Cadiz.
-
-  Well, father, says I, but I don’t much like;
-  For the Frenchmen, they say, are so given to strike,
-  Yes, unto an Englishman; that’s it, you tyke!
-        Have you never yet learn’d the _sea phrase_?
-        Have you never yet learn’d the _sea phrase_?
-
-  Why, as to your _sea frays_, I know not, dear dad,
-  But frays in our village are oftentimes bad,
-  And it must be much worse for a poor country lad,
-        To fight where he can’t run away,
-        To fight where he can’t run away.
-
-  At last he insisted I’d come to this town,
-  And get some small knowledge of gaining renown,
-  Buy myself a blue jacket, and put off the clown,
-        And fight for my country and king,
-        And fight for my country and king.
-
-  But coming up street there, I coud’n’t get quick,
-  The folks on the pavement were standing se thick,
-  So I turn’d myself round, and lean’d over my stick,
-        And heard a poor beggar boy sing,
-        And heard a poor beggar boy sing.
-
-  He sung how that Nelson had lately been shot;
-  Oh! I verily thought I’d have died on the spot,
-  For father told I that lead, e’en boiling hot,
-        Wou’d ne’er take the life of this man,
-        Wou’d ne’er take the life of this man.
-
-  At length the boy prov’d, e’er he ended his song,
-  That nature and valour, however so strong,
-  Must still bow to fate; so poor father was wrong:
-        And Nelson’s gon--dead after all,
-        And Nelson’s gon--dead after all.
-
-  But now I’m determin’d, since this is the case,
-  To write to Lord Collingwood straight for a place,
-  For they say he’s right fond of a North Country face:
-        So I may chance to revenge Nelson’s wrongs,
-        So I may chance to revenge Nelson’s wrongs.
-
-  Adieu, then, my friends, your best wishes I’ll take,
-  Oh! send them all good for your _Collingwood’s sake_!
-  For your Country and you his life’s oft been at stake,
-        Then bless him, and thank his brave Tars!
-        Then bless him, and thank his brave Tars!
-
-  I’ll say that I left you all singing his praise,
-  And begging of Neptune more laurels to raise,
-  That in England you hope he’ll soon wear the green bays,
-        And be blest with his friends for past toils,
-        And be blest with his friends for past toils.
-
-
-
-
-TRAFALGAR’S BATTLE.
-
-
-_By the same._
-
-_Tune_--Chapter of Kings.
-
-  In a battle, you know, we Britons are strong;
-  A battle, my friends, is the theme of my song;
-  Had it not been for this, and the sake of my king,
-  No mortal, I am sure, had forc’d me to sing,
-        And Nelson, that great man,
-        Who bother’d the Frenchmen,
-        At Trafalgar’s great battle, and died.
-
-  His mem’ry must be to each Englishman dear,
-  For his heart in a battle had never met fear:
-  Should those that are left e’er encounter another,
-  We may hear something new from our Nelson’s brave Brother.
-        Who fought with that _great man_,
-        Who bother’d the Frenchmen,
-        At Trafalgar’s great battle, and died.
-
-  ’Tis Collingwood he, our Townsman and friend,
-  May heaven send Angels his life to attend,
-  To guard him through dangers on Oceans great space,
-  Returning in Peace may we all see his face.
-        To bless him, caress him,
-        In kind words address him,
-        Ye Britons and _Sons_ of the _Tyne_.
-
-  Though Nelson is dead, yet we ought not to mourn;
-  The laurels that deck his magnificent Urn,
-  Are sufficient for mortals that dwell here below;
-  Let Heaven’s great King other laurels bestow
-        On him we adore,
-        Who fought off the shore,
-        At Trafalgar’s great battle, and died.
-
-  Drink a toast, then, my friends, to his dear honour’d shade,
-  Each widow, each wife, every matron, and maid,
-  And though you lament for the loss of his blood,
-  Drink a health to our own, our brave Collingwood,
-        Who fought with that _great man_,
-        That bother’d the Frenchmen,
-        At Trafalgar’s great battle, and died.
-
-
-
-
-CHESTER WELL.
-
-
-_By George Pickering, late of Newcastle._
-
-  Turks, Infidels, Pagans, Jews, Christians, and Tartars,
-    Kings, Princes, Queens, Nobles, and Bishops, I pray;
-  Ye Hottentots too, who to neatness are martyrs,
-    Attend for a while to my wonderful lay.
-        At Chester, they tell,
-        Is discover’d a well,
-  Which eases in man as in beast ev’ry torture;
-        Hyp, glanders, and evil,
-        It sends to the devil,
-  And silence has seal’d up the pestle and mortar.
-        Oh Chester, Oh Chester!
-        When maladies pester,
-  Thy liquid Catholicon eases our pain!
-        Mad Turks, Jews, Philistines,
-        Mad Quakers and Christians,
-  Are dipp’d into peace and good order again.
-
-  No more of old Bath, oh ye medical asses!
-    With nose-kissing cane, and your full bottom’d wigs;
-  The Chester Well water in virtue surpasses;
-    Tho’ Bath cur’d the scab in prince Lud and his pigs.
-        Since the days of old Adam,
-        Or Eve, lovely madam,
-  No well was e’er found fit for drinking till now:
-        As the liquid ye glut,
-        ’Tis as sweet as a nut,
-  While Bath’s an emetic for boar, pig, or sow.
-          Oh Chester, &c.
-
-  The maiden who flies to her pillow in sorrow,
-    Who wakes with a sigh to the music of day;
-  By tasting to-night, may be happy to-morrow,
-    And warble as blythe as the birds on the spray.
-        The tear shall cease flowing,
-        Her heart cease its glowing,
-  For plighted troth broken, no longer complain;
-        The bow and the dart,
-        That occasion’d her smart,
-  ’Squire Cupid may twang, but their twanging be vain.
-          Oh Chester, &c.
-
-  And oh let the damsel, whose ringlets appear
-    To be mournfully silvering over with grey;
-  Who sees in her glass, with dejection and fear,
-    That Time’s with’ring hand bids her beauties decay:
-        Ne’er let her be fretful,
-        But drink and be cheerful,
-  The stream both her thirst and her grief shall assuage:
-        No more let her mourn,
-        For her bloom shall return,
-  She shall cast off the sad, sober liv’ry of age.
-          Oh Chester, &c.
-
-  The gouty old blades who have drank the clear liquid,
-    Have snapp’d the fir crutches at seventy-seven;
-  And into the skulls, long incurably stupid,
-    A portion of good common-sense has been driv’n.
-        E’en the nose of the sot,
-        As a heater red hot,
-  Or a flaming balloon which philosophy rears,
-        When dipt in the water,
-        The luminous matter
-  Goes out with a _hiss_, and the blaze disappears.
-          Oh Chester, &c.
-
-  Then haste to the Well, both exotic and native,
-    A dip and a drink all your sorrows will root out;
-  Ye too who have groan’d ’neath the knife amputative,
-    Go plunge, and your heads, legs, _et cet’ra_, shall sprout out:
-        The tribe of empirics,
-        Shall howl in hysterics,
-  And man shall untortur’d fall into decay:
-        The pill and the potion,
-        The ungent and lotion,
-  In box and in bottle shall moulder away,
-          Oh Chester, &c.
-
-
-
-
-NEWCASTLE BEER.
-
-
-_By John Cunningham._
-
-  When Fame brought the news of Great Britain’s success,
-    And told at Olympus each Gallic defeat;
-  Glad Mars sent by Mercury orders express,
-    To summon the deities all to a treat:
-          Blithe Comus was plac’d
-          To guide the gay feast,
-  And freely declar’d there was choice of good cheer;
-          Yet vow’d to his thinking,
-          For exquisite drinking,
-  Their nectar was nothing to Newcastle beer.
-
-  The great god of war, to encourage the fun,
-    And humour the taste of his whimsical guest,
-  Sent a message that moment to Moor’s[2] for a tun
-    Of stingo, the stoutest, the brightest and best;
-          No gods, they all swore,
-          Regal’d so before,
-  With liquor so lively, so potent, and clear:
-          And each deified fellow
-          Got jovially mellow,
-  In honour, brave boys, of our Newcastle beer.
-
-  Apollo, perceiving his talents refine,
-    Repents he drank Helicon water so long;
-  He bow’d, being ask’d by the musical Nine,
-    And gave the gay board an extempore song:
-          But ere he began,
-          He toss’d off his cann:
-  There’s nought like good liquor the fancy to clear:
-          Then sang with great merit,
-          The flavour and spirit,
-  His godship had found in our Newcastle beer.
-
-  ’Twas stingo like this made Alcides so bold,
-    It brac’d up his nerves, and enliven’d his pow’rs;
-  And his mystical club, that did wonders of old,
-    Was nothing, my lads, but such liquor as ours.
-          The horrible crew
-          That Hercules slew,
-  Were Poverty--Calumny--Trouble--and Fear:
-          Such a club would you borrow,
-          To drive away sorrow,
-  Apply for a jorum of Newcastle beer.
-
-  Ye youngsters, so diffident, languid, and pale,
-    Whom love, like the cholic, so rudely infests;
-  Take a cordial of this, ’twill _probatum_ prevail,
-    And drive the cur Cupid away from your breasts:
-          Dull whining despise,
-          Grow rosy and wise,
-  Nor longer the jest of good fellows appear;
-          Bid adieu to your folly,
-          Get drunk and be jolly,
-  And smoke o’er a tankard of Newcastle beer.
-
-  Ye fanciful folk, for whom Physic prescribes,
-    Whom bolus and potion have harrass’d to death!
-  Ye wretches, whom Law and her ill-looking tribes,
-    Have hunted about ’till you’re quite out of breath!
-          Here’s shelter and ease,
-          No craving for fees,
-  No danger--no doctor--no bailiff is near!
-          Your spirits this raises,
-          It cures your diseases,
-  There’s freedom and health in our Newcastle beer.
-
-[2] A great Beer House in Newcastle at that time, kept by Moor, at the
-sign of the Sun.
-
-
-
-
-MY LORD ’SIZE; _Or, Newcastle in an Uproar._
-
-
-By J. SHIELD, of Newcastle.
-
-  The jailor, for trial, had brought up a thief,
-  Whose looks seem’d a passport for Botany Bay;
-  The lawyers, some _with_ and some _wanting_ a brief,
-  Around the green table were seated so gay:
-  Grave jurors and witnesses, waiting a call;
-  Attornies and clients, more angry than wise,
-  With strangers and town’s-people, throng’d the Guild-Hall,--
-  All waiting and gaping to see my _Lord ’Size_.
-
-  Oft stretch’d were their necks, oft erected their ears,
-  Still fancying they heard of the trumpets the sound,
-  When tidings arriv’d, which disolv’d them in tears,
-  That my Lord at the dead-house was then lying drown’d!
-  Straight left _tête a tête_ were the jailor and thief;
-  The horror-struck crowd to the dead-house quick hies;
-  Ev’n the lawyers, forgetful of fee and of brief,
-  Set off, helter-skelter, to view my _Lord ’Size_.
-
-  And now the Sandhill with the sad tidings rings,
-  And the _tubs_ of the _taties_ are left to take care;
-  Fish-women desert their crabs, lobsters, and lings,
-  And each to the dead-house now runs like a hare.
-  The Glassmen, some _naked_, some _clad_, heard the news,
-  And off they ran smoking, like hot mutton-pies;
-  Whilst Castle-garth Tailors, like wild _Kangaroos_,
-  Came, _tail-on-end_ jumping, to see my _Lord ’Size_.
-
-  The dead-house they reach’d, where his Lordship they found,
-  Pale, stretch’d on a plank, like themselves _out of breath_;
-  The _Crowner_ and Jury were seated around,
-  Most gravely enquiring the cause of his death.
-  No haste did they seem in, their task to complete,
-  Aware that from hurry mistakes often rise;
-  Or wishful, perhaps, of prolonging the treat
-  Of thus sitting in judgment upon my _Lord ’Size_.
-
-  Now the Mansion-house Butler thus gravely depos’d:--
-  “My Lord on the terrace seem’d studying his _charge_;
-  And when (as I thought) he had got it compos’d,
-  He went down the stairs and examin’d the barge.
-  First the stem he survey’d, then inspected the stern,
-  Then handled the tiller, and look’d mighty wise;
-  But he made a false step when about to return,
-  And souse in the river straight tumbled _Lord ’Size_.”
-
-  Now his narrative ended--the Butler retir’d,
-  Whilst _Betty Watt_, mut’ring (half drunk) thro’ her teeth,
-  Declar’d, “in her _breest great consarn_ it inspir’d,
-  That my Lord should sae _cullishly_ come by his _deeth_.”
-  Next a keelman was call’d on, _Bold Archy_ his name,
-  Who the book as he kiss’d shew’d the whites of his eyes;
-  Then he cut an odd caper, attention to claim,
-  And this evidence gave them respecting _Lord ’Size_.
-
-  “Aw was _setten_ the keel, wi’ _Dick Stavers_ an’ _Mat_,
-  An’ the Mansion-hoose Stairs we were just alangside,
-  When we a’ three _see’d sumthing_, but didn’t ken _what_,
-  That was _splashing_ and _labbering_ aboot i’ the tide.
-  “It’s a _fluiker_!” ki Dick; “No,” ki Mat, “it’s owre big,
-  “It luik’d mair like a _skyat_ when aw furst see’d it rise:”
-  Kiv aw--for aw’d getten a gliff o’ the wig--
-  Odds marcy! Wye, marrows, becrike it’s _Lord ’Size_.
-
-  Sae aw huik’d him an’ hawl’d him suin into the keel,
-  An’ o’top o’ the huddock aw rowl’d him aboot;
-  An’ his belly aw rubb’d, an’ aw skelp’d his back weel,
-  But the wayter he’d drucken it wadn’t run oot.
-  Sae aw brought him ashore here, an’ doctors, in vain,
-  Furst _this_ way, then _that_, to recover him tries;
-  For ye see there he’s lying as _deed_ as a stane,--
-  An’ that’s a’ aw can tell ye about my _Lord ’Size_.”
-
-  Now the Jury for close consultation retir’d:
-  Some “_Death accidental_” were willing to find;
-  Some “_God’s visitation_” most eager requir’d,
-  And some were for “_Fell in the river_” inclin’d:
-  But ere on their verdict they all were agreed,
-  My Lord gave a groan, and wide open’d his eyes;
-  Then the coach and the trumpeters came with great speed,
-  And back to the Mansion-house carried _Lord ’Size_.
-
-
-
-
-BOB CRANKY’s ’SIZE SUNDAY.
-
-
-_By John Selkirk._
-
-Set to Music by THOMAS TRAIN, of Gateshead.
-
-  Ho’way and aw’ll sing thee a tune, mun,
-  ’Bout huz see’n my Lord at the town, mun,
-      Aw seer aw was smart, now
-      Aw’ll lay thee a quart, now
-  Nyen’ them aw cut a dash like Bob Cranky.
-
-  When aw pat on my blue coat that shines se,
-  My jacket wi’ posies se fine see,
-      My sark sic sma’ threed, man,
-      My pig-tail se greet, man!
-  Od smash! what a buck was Bob Cranky.
-
-  Blue stockings, white clocks, and reed garters,
-  Yellow breeks, and my shoon wi’ lang quarters,
-      Aw myed wour bairns cry,
-      Eh! sarties! ni! ni!
-  Sic verra fine things had Bob Cranky.
-
-  Aw went to awd Tom’s and fand Nancy,
-  Kiv aw, Lass, thou’s myed to my fancy;
-      Aw like thou as weel
-      As a stannin pye heel,
-  Ho’way to the town wi’ Bob Cranky.
-
-  As up Jenny’s backside we were bangin,
-  Ki’ Geordy, How! where are ye gannin?
-      Weyt’ see my lord ’Sizes,
-      But ye shanna gan aside us,
-  For ye’re not half se fine as Bob Cranky.
-
-  Ki’ Geordy, We leve i’ yen raw, weyet,
-  I’ yen corf we byeth gan belaw, weyet,
-      At a’ things aw’ve play’d,
-      And to hew aw’m not flay’d,
-  Wi’ sic in a chep as Bob Cranky.
-
-  Bob hez thee at lowpin and flingin,
-  At the bool, foot-ball, clubby, and swingin:
-      Can ye jump up and shuffle,
-      And cross owre the buckle,
-  When ye dance? like the clever Bob Cranky.
-
-  Thou naws, i’ my hoggars and drawers,
-  Aw’m nyen o’ your scarters and clawers:
-      Fra the trap door bit laddy,
-      T’ the spletter his daddy,
-  Nyen handles the pick like Bob Cranky.
-
-  So, Geordy, od smash my pit sarik!
-  Thou’d best had thy whisht about warik,
-      Or aw’ll sobble thy body,
-      And myek thy nose bloody,
-  If thou sets up thy gob to Bob Cranky.
-
-  Nan laugh’d--t’church we gat without ’im;
-  The greet crowd, becrike, how aw hew’d ’em!
-      Smasht a keel-bully roar’d,
-      Clear the road! Whilk’s my lord?
-  Owse se high as the noble Bob Cranky.
-
-  Aw lup up an’ catch’d just a short gliff
-  O’ lord trial, the trumpets, and sheriff,
-      Wi’ the little bit mannies,
-      Se fine and se canny,
-  Ods heft! what a seet for Bob Cranky.
-
-  Then away we set off to the yell-house,
-  Wiv a few hearty lasses and fellows,
-      Aw tell’d owre the wig,
-      Se curl’d and se big;
-  For nyen saw’d se weel as Bob Cranky.
-
-  Aw gat drunk, fit, and kick’d up a racket,
-  Rove my breeks and spoil’d a’ my fine jacket:
-      Nan cry’d and she cuddled
-      My hinny, thou’s fuddled,
-  Ho’way hyem now, my bonny Bob Cranky.
-
-  So we stagger’d alang fra the town, mun,
-  Whiles gannin, whiles baith fairly down, mun:
-      Smash, a banksman or hewer,
-      No not a fine viewer,
-  Durst jaw to the noble Bob Cranky.
-
-  What care aw for my new suit, a’ tatters,
-  Twe black een--od smash a’ sic maters!
-      When my lord comes agyen, mun,
-      Aw’l strive every byen, mun,
-  To bang a’ wor Concern, ki’ Bob Cranky.
-
-  O’ the flesh and breed day when wour bun’, mun,
-  Aw’l buy clase far bonnyer than thon, mun;
-      For, od smash my neavel!
-      As lang as wour yebble,
-  Let’s keep up the day, ki’ Bob Cranky.
-
-
-
-
-BOB CRANKY’s COMPLAINT.
-
-
-  Odd smash! ’tis hard aw can’t rub dust off,
-  To see ma lord wi’ wig se fine toss’d off,
-      But they mak a sang man
-      Aw can’t tell how lang man,
-  All myeking a gam o’ Bob Cranky.
-
-  Ma blue coat and pigtail’s my awn, wyet!
-  And when to Newcassel I gang, wyet!
-      Aw like to shaw town folks,
-      Whe se oft ca’ us gowks,
-  They ar’n’t se fine as Bob Cranky.
-
-  If aw fin the Owther, as sure as a’m Bob,
-  A’ll mak him sing the wrang side o’ his gob,
-      A’ll gi’m sic sobbling
-      A’ll set him hyem hobbling,
-  For myeking a gam o’ Bob Cranky.
-
-  A’ll myek his noddle as reed as ma garters;
-  A’ve a lang stick, as weel as lang quarters,
-      Whilk a’ll lay ow’r his back,
-      ’Till he swears ne’er to mak
-  Ony mair sangs o’ Bob Cranky.
-
-  Aw wonder the maist how he did spy,
-  What was dyun, when nobody was by--
-      Some Conj’rer he maun be,
-      Sic as wi’ Punch aw did see,
-  Whilk myed the hair stand o’ Bob Cranky.
-
-  Our viewer sez aw can’t de better,
-  Than send him a story cull letter.
-      But writing a’ll let rest;
-      The pik fits ma hand best,
-  A pen’s owr sma for Bob Cranky.
-
-  Nan, whe a’ll marry or its very lang,
-  Sez, “Hinny, din’t mind the cull fellow’s sang,
-      “Gif he dis se agyan,
-      “Our schyul maister’s pen
-  “Shall tak pairt wi’ ma bonny Bob Cranky.”
-
-  “Ize warrn’t, gif aw weer my pillease,
-  “An ma hat myed of very sma strees;
-      “He’ll be chock full o’ spite,
-      “An about us will write,
-  “An say Ize owre fine for Bob Cranky.”
-
-  “Sure, Bobby,” says she, “his head’s got a crack,”
-  “Ne maiter,” sed I, an gov her a smack.
-      “Pilleases are tippy,
-      “Like shugar’s thy lippy,
-  “And thou shalt be wife to Bob Cranky.”
-
-  The Crankies, farrer back nor I naw,
-  Hae gyen to Sizes to see trumpets blaw,
-      Wi’ white sticks, an’ Sheriff,
-      But warn’t myed a sang of,
-  Nor laugh’d at, like clever Bob Cranky.
-
-  Lord Sizes cums but yence a year, wyet!
-  To see his big wig a’ve ne fear, wyat!
-      So be-crike! while aw leeve,
-      Thof wi’ lang sangs a’m deav’d,
-  Me Lord at the church shall see Cranky!
-
-
-
-
-THE BONNY GEATSIDERS.--1805.
-
-
-Tune--_Bob Cranky_.
-
-  Come marrows, we’ve happen’d to meet now,
-  Sae our thropples together we’ll weet now;
-          Aw’ve myed a new sang,
-          And to sing ye’t aw lang,
-  For it’s about the Bonny Geatsiders.
-
-  Of a’ the fine Volunteer corpses,
-  Whether _footmen_, or ridin o’ horses,
-          ’Tween the Tweed and the Tees,
-          Deel hae them that sees
-  Sic a corpse as the Bonny Geatsiders.
-
-  Whilk amang them can mairch, turn, an wheel sae?
-  Whilk their guns can wise off half sae weel sae?
-          Nay, for myeking a _crack_,
-          Through England aw’l back
-  The Corpse of the Bonny Geatsiders.
-
-  When the time for parading nigh hand grows,
-  A’wash their sel’s clean i’ the sleek trough;
-          Fling off their black duddies,
-          Leave hammers and studdies,
-  And to drill--run the Bonny Geatsiders.
-
-  To Newcasel, for three weeks up-stannin,
-  On Permanent Duty they’re gannin;
-          And sune i’ th’ papers,
-          We’s read a’ the capers,
-  O’ the corpse o’ the Bonny Geatsiders.
-
-  The Newcassel chaps fancy they’re clever,
-  And are vauntin and braggin for ever;
-          But they’ll find themselves wrang,
-          If they think they can bang,
-  At soug’rin, the Bonny Geatsiders.
-
-  The Gen’ral sall see they can loup dykes,
-  Or mairch through whins, lair whooles, and deep sykes;
-          Nay, to soom (at a pinch)
-          Through Tyne, wad’nt flinch
-  The corpse o’ the Bonny Geatsiders.
-
-  Some think Billy Pitt’s nobbit hummin,
-  When he tells about Bonnepart cummin;
-          But come when he may,
-          He’ll lang rue the day
-  He first meets wi’ the Bonny Geatsiders.
-
-  Like an anchor shank, smash! how they’ll clatter ’im,
-  And turn ’im, and skelp ’im, and batter ’im,
-          His banes sall by pring,
-          Like a fryin pan ring,
-  When he meets wi’ the Bonny Geatsiders.
-
-  Let them ance get ’im into their taings weel,
-  Nae fear but they’ll give ’im his whaings weel;
-          And to Hazlett’s[3] pond bring ’im,
-          And there in chains hing ’im;
-  What a seet for the Bonny Geatsiders!
-
-  Now, marrows, to shew we’re a’ loyal,
-  And that, wi’ the King and Blood Royal,
-          We’ll a’ soom or sink,
-          Quairts a piece let us drink,
-  To the brave and the Bonny Geatsiders.
-
-[3] A Pond on Gateshead Fell, so named on account of the Body of Robert
-Hazlett being hung in Chains there, September, 1770, for robbing the
-Mail.
-
-
-
-
-BOB CRANKY’s ADIEU.
-
-
-_On going with the Volunteer Association, from Gateshead to Newcastle,
-on permanent Duty._
-
-By JOHN SHIELD, of Newcastle.
-
-  Fareweel, fareweel, ma comely pet!
-    Aw’s fourc’d three weeks to leave thee;
-  Aw’s doon for _parm’ent duty_ set,
-    O dinna let it grieve thee!
-  Ma hinny! wipe them e’en, sae breet,
-    That mine wi’ love did dazzle;
-  When thy heart’s sad can mine be leet!
-      Come, ho’way get a jill o’ beer,
-      Thy heart to cheer:
-  An’ when thou sees me mairch away,
-      Whiles in, whiles out
-      O’ step, nae doot,
-  “Bob Cranky’s gane--” thou’lt sobbing say,
-      “A sougering to Newcassel!”
-
-  Come, dinna, dinna whinge and whipe,
-    Like yammering Isbel Macky;
-  Cheer up, ma hinny! leet thy pipe,
-    And take a blast o’ backy!
-  It’s but for yen and twenty days,
-    The foulks’s een aw’ll dazzle,--
-  Prood, swagg’ring i’ my fine reed claes:
-    Odds heft! my pit claes--dist thou hear?
-      Are waurse o’ wear;
-  Mind cloot them weel, when aw’s away;
-      An’ a posie gown
-      Aw’ll buy thee soon,
-  An’ thou’s drink thy tea--aye, twice a-day,
-      When aw come frae Newcassel.
-
-  Becrike! aw’s up tiv every rig,
-    Sae dinna doot, ma hinny!
-  But at the Blue stane o’ the Brig
-    Aw’ll ha’e ma mairching Ginny.
-  A Ginny! wuks! sae strange a seet
-    Ma een wi’ joy will dazzle;
-  But aw’ll hed spent that verra neet--
-    For money, hinny! owre neet to keep,
-      Wad brick ma sleep:
-  Sae, smash! aw thinks’t a wiser way,
-      Wi’ flesh and beer
-      Mysel’ to cheer,
-  The lang three weeks that aw’ve to stay,
-      A sougering at Newcassel.
-
-  But whisht! the sairgent’s tongue aw hear,
-    “Fa’ in! fa’ in!” he’s yelpin:
-  The fifes are whusslin’ lood an’ clear,
-    An’ sair the drums they’re skelpin.
-  Fareweel, ma comely! aw mun gang,
-    The Gen’ral’s een to dazzle;
-  But, hinny! if the time seems lang,
-    And thou freets about me neet an’ day;
-      Then come away,
-  Seek out the yell-house where aw stay,
-      An’ we’ll kiss and cuddle;
-      An’ mony a fuddle
-  Sall drive the langsome hours away,
-      When sougering at Newcassel.
-
-
-
-
-O NO, MY LOVE, NO.
-
-
-_By JOHN SHIELD, of Newcastle._
-
-  Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ the welkin rebellows,
-    And aspects undaunted our Volunteers show,
-  Do you think, O my Delia! to join the brave fellows,
-    My heart beats impatient? O no, my love, no.
-
-  At the dawn of the day, their warm beds still forsaking,
-    To scamper thro’ _bogs_, or where prickly _whins_ grow,
-  When I view them of pastimes so martial partaking,
-    Do I sicken with envy? O no, my love, no.
-
-  Array’d in full splendour, their arms brightly shining,
-    On _guard_ or on _picquet_, when proudly they go,
-  (For the pleasures of _permanent duty_ repining)
-    Do I sigh to go with them? O no, my love, no.
-
-  Or think you that, eager to quell rude disorder,
-    What time our brave heroes shall face the dread foe,
-  I’ve determin’d to serve under Mr Recorder,
-    In the tip-staff battalion? O no, my love, no.
-
-  What means, my lov’d Delia! that frown, now appearing?
-    Why, why does your brow such severity show?
-  And wherefore those glances, so cold and uncheering?
-    Do you think me a _poltroon_? O no, my love, no.
-
-  Though I wear not a red coat, my honour’s untainted,--
-    To Coventry ne’er was I fated to go;
-  But, whilst with the _plan of removal_ acquainted,
-    Can I, cruel, desert thee? O no, my love, no.
-
-  Soon war from thy home may a fugitive send thee,
-    Soon give thee of keels and their huddocks to know;
-  In the Voyage to Newburn who’ll succour and tend thee;
-    Shall the task be another’s? O no, my love, no.
-
-  Then wear not my Delia! an aspect so chilling,
-    Nor doubt that with ardour heroic I glow;
-  But love’s dear delights shall I barter for _drilling_?
-    That smile methinks answers,--“O no, my love, no.”
-
-
-
-
-DELIA’s ANSWER.
-
-
-  Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ our island rebellows,
-    And aspects terrific proud Frenchmen still show,
-  Do you think, O my Colin! to join our brave fellows
-    I e’er would forbid you? O no, my love, no.
-
-  At the dawn of the day, my bed cheerly forsaking,
-    I’d scamper thro’ _bogs_, or where prickly _whins_ grow;
-  On a view of your martial manœuvres partaking,
-    I vow ne’er to leave you: O no, my love, no.
-
-  Array’d in full splendour, your arms brightly shining,
-    On _guard_ or on _picquet_, when proudly you go,
-  Or on _permanent duty_, do you think that, repining,
-    I’d sighing reprove you? O no, my love, no.
-
-  Or when you are called to quell rude disorder,
-    Or with brother heroes shall face the dread foe,
-  If my honour I trusted to Mr Recorder,
-    Will he fail to protect me? O no, my love, no.
-
-  What means, then, my Colin! that cold sweat appearing?
-    Why, why should your brow such timidity show?
-  And where are those glances so cold and uncheering?
-    Shall I think you a poltroon? O no, my love, no.
-
-  Then, haste, wear a red coat, while your honour’s untainted,
-    Or to Coventry you may be fated to go;
-  And tho’ with the plan of removal acquainted,
-    I’ll not go to Newburn: O no, my love, no.
-
-  Soon War from my home may a fugitive send me,
-    And which way, or how, I’m not anxious to know;
-  For I’ll follow the lads that are arm’d to defend me:
-    Shall the task be another’s? O no, my love, no.
-
-  Then wear not, my Colin! an aspect so chilling,
-    Let your breast now with ardour heroic but glow,
-  Then love’s dear delights will I barter for _drilling_:
-    You sure can’t refuse me? O no, my love, no.
-
-
-
-
-THE COLLIERS RANT.
-
-
-  As me and my marrow was ganning to wark,
-  We met with the devil, it was in the dark;
-  I up with my pick, it being in the neit,
-  I knock’d off his horns, likewise his club feet.
-      Follow the horses, Johnny my lad oh!
-      Follow them through, my canny lad oh!
-      Follow the horses, Johnny my lad oh!
-      Oh lad ly away, canny lad oh!
-
-  As me and my marrow was putting the tram,
-  The lowe it went out, and my marrow went wrang;
-  You would have laugh’d had you seen the gam,
-  The deil gat my marrow, but I gat the tram,
-      Follow the horses, &c.
-
-  Oh! marrow, oh! marrow, what dost thou think?
-  I’ve broken my bottle, and spilt a’ my drink;
-  I lost a’ my shin-splints among the great stanes,
-  Draw me t’ the shaft, it’s time to gan hame.
-      Follow the horses, &c.
-
-  Oh! marrow, oh! marrow, where hast thou been?
-  Driving the drift from the low seam,
-  Driving the drift from the low seam:
-  Had up the lowe, lad, deil stop out thy een!
-      Follow the horses, &c.
-
-  Oh! marrow, oh! marrow, this is wor pay week,
-  We’ll get penny loaves and drink to our beek;
-  And we’ll fill up our bumper, and round it shall go,
-  Follow the horses, Johnny lad oh!
-      Follow the horses, &c.
-
-  There is my horse, and there is my tram;
-  Twee horns full of greese will make her to gang;
-  There is my hoggars, likewise my half shoon,
-  And smash my heart, marrow, my putting’s a’ done.
-      Follow the horses, Johnny my lad oh!
-      Follow them through my canny lad oh!
-      Follow the horses, Johnny my lad oh!
-      Oh lad ly away, canny lad oh!
-
-
-
-
-WALKER PITS.
-
-
-_Tune_--Off she goes.
-
-  If I had another penny,
-    I would have another gill;
-  I would make the fidlers play
-    The Bonny Lads of Byker Hill.
-      Byker Hill and Walker Shore,
-      Collery lads for ever more;
-      Byker Hill and Walker Shore,
-      Collery lads for ever more.
-
-  When I cam to Walker wark,
-    I had ne coat nor ne pit sark;
-  But now aw’ve getten twe or three,
-    Walker pit’s deun weel for me.
-      Byker Hill and Walker shore,
-      Collery lads for ever more;
-      Byker Hill and Walker Shore,
-      Collery lads for ever more.
-
-
-
-
-THE BONNY PIT LADDIE.
-
-
-  The bonny pit laddie, the cannie pit laddie,
-    The bonny pit laddie for me, O!
-  He sits in his hole as black as a coal,
-    And brings the white siller to me, O!
-
-  The bonny pit laddie, the cannie pit laddie,
-    The bonny pit laddie for me, O!
-  He sits on his cracket, and hews in his jacket,
-    And brings the white siller to me, O!
-
-
-
-
-THE PITMAN’s REVENGE AGAINST BUONAPARTE.
-
-
-  Hae ye heard o’ these wondrous dons,
-  That make this mighty fuss, man,
-  About invading Briton’s land?
-  I vow they’re wondrous spruce, man:
-  But little do the Frenchmen ken
-  About our loyal Englishmen;
-  Our collier lads are for cockades,
-  And guns to shoot the French, man.
-                        Toll loll de roll de roll de roll.
-
-  Then to parade the pitmen went,
-  Wi’ hearts both stout and strong, man;
-  Gad smash the French, we are so strang,
-  We’ll shoot them ev’ry one, man:
-  Gad smash me sark if I would stick
-  To tumble them a’ down the pit,
-  As fast as I could thraw a coal,
-  I’d tumble them a’ down the hole,
-  And close her in aboon, man.
-                        Toll loll, &c.
-
-  Heads up, says one, ye silly sow,
-  Ye dinna mind the word, man:
-  Eyes right, says Tom, and wi’ a dam,
-  And march off at the word, man:
-  Did ever mortals see sic brutes,
-  To order me to lift my kutes?
-  Ad smash the fool, he stands and talks,
-  How can he learn me to walk,
-  That’s walk’d this forty year, man?
-                        Toll loll, &c.
-
-  But should the Frenchmen shew their face
-  Upon our waggon ways, man,
-  Then there upon the road, you know,
-  We’d make them end their days, man:
-  Ay Bonaparte’s sel I’d take,
-  And throw him in the burning heap,
-  And with great speed I’d roast him deed;
-  His marrows then I wad nae heed,
-  We’d pick out a’ their een, man.
-                        Toll loll, &c.
-
-    Says Willy Dunn to loyal Tom,
-  Your words are all a joke, man;
-  For Geordy winna hae your help,
-  Ye’re sic kamstarie fowk, man:
-  Then Willy lad, we’ll rest in peace,
-  In hopes that a’ the wars may cease;
-  But I’s gie ye, Wull, to understand,
-  As lang as I can wield my hand,
-  There’s nane but George shall reign, man.
-                        Toll loll, &c.
-
-    Enough of this has shure been said,
-  Cry’d Cowardly Willy Dunn, man;
-  For should the Frenchmen come this way,
-  We’d be ready for to run, man.
-  Gad smash you for a fool, says Tom,
-  For if I could not use my gun,
-  I’d take my pick, I’d hew them down,
-  And run and cry through a’ the town,
-  God save great George our king, man.
-                        Toll loll, &c.
-
-
-
-
-THE COLLIERS’ PAY WEEK.
-
-
-  The Baff week is o’er--no repining--
-    Pay-Saturday’s swift on the wing;
-  At length the blythe morning comes shining,
-    When kelter makes colliers sing:
-  ’Tis Spring, and the weather is cheary,
-    The birds whistle sweet on the spray;
-  Now coal working lads, trim and airy,
-    To Newcastle town hie away.
-
-  Those married jog on with their _hinnies_,
-    Their canny bairns go by their side;
-  The daughters keep teazing their minnies
-    For new cloaths to keep up their pride:
-  They plead--Easter Sunday does fear them,
-    For, if they have nothing that’s new,
-  The _Crow_, spiteful bird! will besmear them;
-    Oh then! what a sight for to view!
-
-  The young men, full blithsome and jolly,
-    March forward, all decently clad;
-  Some lilting up, “_Cut-and-dry, Dolly_,”
-    Some singing, “_The bonny Pit Lad_:”
-  The pranks that were play’d at last binding
-    Engage some in humourous chat;
-  Some halt by the way-side on finding
-    Primroses to place in their hat.
-
-  Bob Cranky, Jack Hogg, and Dick Marley,
-    Bill Hewitt, Luke Carr, and Tom Brown,
-  In one jolly squad set off early
-    From Benwell to Newcastle town:
-  Such hewers as they (none need doubt it)
-    Ne’er handled a shovel or pick;
-  In high or low seam they could suit it,
-    In regions next door to Old Nick.
-
-  Some went to buy hats and new jackets,
-    And others to see a bit fun;
-  And some wanted leather and tackets
-    To cobble their canny pit shoon:
-  Save the ribbon Dick’s dear had requested,
-    (Aware he had plenty of chink)
-  There was no other care him infested,
-    Unless ’twere his care for good drink.
-
-  [In the morning the dry man advances
-    To purl-shop to toss off a gill,
-  Ne’er dreading the ills and mischances
-    Attending on those who _sit still_:
-  The drink, Reason’s monitor quelling,
-    Inflames both the brain and the eyes;
-  The inchantment commenc’d, there’s no telling
-    When care-drowning tipplers will rise.
-
-  O MALT! we acknowledge thy powers
-    What _good_ and what _ill_ dost thou brew!
-  Our good _friend_ in moderate hours--
-    Our _enemy_ when we get fu’:
-  Could thy vot’ries avoid the fell furies
-    So often awaken’d by thee,
-  We would seldom need Judges or Juries
-    To send folk to Tyburn tree!]
-
-  At length in Newcastle they centre--
-    In _Hardy’s_,[4] a house much renown’d,
-  The jovial company enter,
-    Where stores of good liquor abound:
-  As quick as the servants could fill it,
-    (Till emptied was quarts half a score)
-  With heart-burning thirst down they swill it,
-    And thump on the table for more.
-
-  While thus in fine cue they are seated,
-    Young cock-fighting Ned from the Fell[5]
-  Peep’d in--his “_How dye?_” repeated,
-    And hop’d they were all very well;
-  He swore he was pleased to see them--
-    One rose up to make him sit down,
-  And join in good fellowship wi’ them,
-    For him they would spend their last crown.
-
-  The liquor beginning to warm them,
-    In friendship the closer they knit,
-  And tell and hear jokes--and, to charm them,
-    Comes ROBIN, from Denton-Bourn pit;
-  An odd witty, comical fellow,
-    At either a jest or a tale,
-  Especially when he was mellow
-    With drinking stout Newcastle ale.
-
-  With bousing, and laughing, and smoking,
-    The time slippeth swiftly away;
-  And while they are ranting and joking
-    The church-clock proclaims it mid-day;
-  And now for black-puddings, long measure,
-    They go to TIB TROLLIBAG’S stand,
-  And away bear the glossy rich treasure,
-    With joy, like curl’d bugles in hand.
-
-  And now a choice house they agreed on,
-    Not far from the head of the Quay;
-  Where they their black puddings might feed on
-    And spend the remains of the day;
-  Where pipers and fiddlers resorted,
-    To pick up the straggling pence,
-  And where the pit lads often sported
-    Their money at Fiddle and Dance.
-
-  BLIND WILLIE[6] the fidler sat scraping,
-    In corner just as they went in:
-  Some Willington callants were shaking
-    Their feet to his musical din:
-  Jack vow’d he would have some fine cap’ring,
-    As soon as their dinner was o’er,
-  With the lassie that wore the white apron,
-    Now reeling about on the floor.
-
-  Their hungry stomachs being eased,
-    And gullets well clear’d with a glass,
-  Jack rose from the table and seized
-    The hand of the frolicsome lass.
-  “Ma hinny!” says he, “pray excuse me--
-    To ask thee to dance I make free.”
-  She reply’d, “I’d be loth to refuse thee!
-    Now fiddler play--“Jigging for me.””
-
-  The damsel displays all her graces,
-    The collier exerts all his power,
-  They caper in circling paces,
-    And _set_ at each end of the floor:
-  He jumps, and his heels knack and rattle,
-    At turns of the music so sweet
-  He makes such a thundering brattle,
-    The floor seems afraid of his feet.
-
-  This couple being seated, rose Bob up,
-    He wish’d to make one in a jig;
-  But a Wellington lad set his gob up,--
-    O’er him there should none “_run the rig_.”
-  For now ’twas his turn for a caper,
-    And he would dance first as he’d rose;
-  Bob’s passion beginning to vapour,
-    He twisted his opponent’s nose.
-
-  The Willington lads, for their Franky,
-    Jump’d up, to revenge the foul deed;
-  And those in behalf of Bob Cranky
-    Sprung forward--for now there was need.
-  Bob canted the form, with a kevel,
-    As he was exerting his strength;
-  But he got on the lug such a _nevel_,
-    That down he came all his long length.
-
-  Tom Brown, from behind the long table,
-    Impatient to join in the fight,
-  Made a spring, some rude foe to disable,
-    For he was a man of some might:
-  Misfortune, alas! was attending,
-    An accident fill’d him with fear;
-  An old rusty nail his flesh rending,
-    Oblig’d him to slink in the rear.
-
-  When sober, a mild man was Marley,
-    More apt to join friends than make foes;
-  But rais’d by the juice of the barley,
-    He put in some sobbling blows.
-  And cock-fighting Ned was their Hector,
-    A courageous fellow, and stout:
-  He stood their bold friend and protector,
-    And thump’d the opponents about.
-
-  All hand-over-head, topsy turvy,
-    They struck with fists, elbows, and feet,
-  A Wellington callant, called Gurvy,
-    Was top-tails tost over the seat:
-  Luke Carr had one eye clos’d entire;
-    And what is a serio-farce,
-  Poor Robin was cast on the fire,
-    His breeks torn and burnt off his a--e.
-
-  Oh, Robin! what argued thy speeches?
-    Disaster now makes thee quite mum;
-  Thy wit could not save the good breeches,
-    That mencefully cover’d thy bum:
-  To some slop-shop now thou may go trudging,
-    And lug out some squandering coins;
-  For now ’tis too late to be grudging,--
-    Thou cannot go home with bare groins.
-
-  How the warfaring companies parted,
-    The Muse chuseth not to proclaim;
-  But, ’tis thought, that, being rather down-hearted,
-    They quietly went--“toddling hame.”
-  Now ye Collier callants, so clever,
-    Residing ’tween Tyne and the Wear,
-  Beware, when you fuddle together,
-    Of making too free with strong beer.
-
-[4] Sign of the Black Boy, Groat Market.
-
-[5] Gateshead Fell.
-
-[6] William Purvis, a blind fidler so called.
-
-
-
-
-THE QUAYSIDE SHAVER.
-
-
-Formerly on the Sandhill, and afterwards on the Quay, near the Bridge,
-were people (chiefly women) who, in the open street, on market days,
-performed the office of Barber.
-
-  On each market day, Sir, the folks to the Quay, Sir,
-    Go flocking with beards they have seven days worn.
-  And round the small grate, Sir, in crowds they all wait, Sir,
-    To get themselves shav’d in a rotative turn;
-  Old soldiers on sticks, Sir, about politics, Sir,
-    Debate--till at length they quite heated have grown;
-  May nothing escape, Sir, until _Madame Scrape_, Sir,
-    Cries, “Gentlemen, who is the next to sit down?”
-
-  A medley the place is, of those that sell laces,
-    With fine shirt-neck buttons, and good cabbage nets;
-  Where match-men, at meeting, give a kind greeting,
-    And ask one another how trade with them sets:
-  Join’d in with _Tom Hoggars_ and little _Bob Nackers_,
-    Who wander the streets in their fuddling gills;
-  And those folks with bags, Sir, who buy up old rags, Sir,
-    That deal in fly-cages, and paper windmills.
-
-  There pitmen, with baskets and gay posey waistcoats,
-    Discourse about nought but whee puts and hews best:
-  There keelmen, just landed, swear may they be stranded,
-    If they’re not shav’d first while their keel’s at the _Fest_;
-  With a face of coal dust, would frighten one almost,
-    Thro’ off hat and wig, while they usurp the chair;
-  While others stand looking, and think it provoking,
-    But, for the insult, to oppose them none dare.
-
-  When under the chin, Sir, she tucks the cloth in, Sir,
-    Their old quid they’ll pop in the pea-jacket cuff;
-  And while they are sitting, do nought but keep spitting,
-    And looking around with an air fierce and bluff:
-  Such tales as go round, Sir, would be sure to confound, Sir,
-    And puzzle the prolific brain of the wise;
-  But when she prepares, Sir, to take off the hair, Sir,
-    With lather, she whitens them up to the eyes.
-
-  No sooner the razor is laid on the face, Sir,
-    Then painful distortions take place on the brow;
-  But if they complain, Sir, they’ll find it in vain, Sir,
-    She’ll tell them there’s nought but what _Patience_ can do;
-  And as she scrapes round ’em, if she by chance wound ’em,
-    They’ll cry out as tho’ she’d bereav’d them of life,
-  “’Od smash your brains, woman! I find the blood’s coming,
-    “I’d rather been shav’d with an au’d gully knife!”
-
-  For all they can say, Sir, she still rasps away, Sir,
-    And sweeps round their jaw, the chop torturing tool;
-  Till they in a pet, Sir, request her to whet, Sir:
-    But she gives them for answer, “Sit still you pist fool!”
-  For all their repining, their twisting and twining,
-    She forward proceeds till she’s mown off the hair;
-  When finish’d, cries, “There Sir;” then straight from the chair, Sir,
-    They’ll jump, crying, “Daresay you’ve scrap’d the bone bare!”
-
-
-
-
-SWALWELL HOPPING.
-
-
-By J.S. of Gateshead.
-
-_Tune--“Paddy’s Wedding.”_
-
-        Lads! myek a ring,
-        An’ hear huz sing
-    The sport we had at Swalwell-o;
-        Wour merry play,
-        O’ th’ Hoppen day?
-    Howay! marrows, an’ aw’ll tell you-o.
-  The sun shines warm on Whickham bank,
-    Let’s aw lye down at Dolly’s-o,
-  An’ hear ’bout mony a funny prank
-    Play’d by the lads at Crowley’s-o.
-
-        There was Sam, O zoons!
-        Wiv’s pantaloons,
-    An’ gravat up owre his gobby-o;
-        An’ Willy, thou,
-        Wi’ th’ jacket blue,
-    Thou was the varra Bobby-o:
-  There was knack knee’d Mat, wiv’s purple suit,
-    An’ hopper-a--s’d Dick, a’ yellow-o:
-  Great Tom was there wi’ H--ple’s awd coat,
-    An’ bucksheen’d Bob fra Stella-o.
-
-        When we wour drest,
-        It was confest,
-    We shemm’d the cheps fra Newcassel-o:
-        So away we set
-        To wour town gyet,
-    To jeer them a’ as they pass’d us-o;
-  We shouted some, and some dung down--
-    Lobstrop’lus fellows, we kick’d them-o:
-  Some culls went hyem, some crush’d to town,
-    Some gat about by Whickham-o.
-
-        The spree com on--
-        The hat was won
-    By carrot-pow’d Jenny’s Jacky-o:
-        What a fyess, begok!
-        Had buckle-mouth’d Jock,
-    When he twin’d his jaws for the backy-o!
-  The kilted lasses fell tid pell mell,
-    Wi’--Tally-i-o the grinder-o--
-  The smock was gi’en to slavering Nell;
-    Ye’d dropp’d had ye been behind her-o.
-
-        Wour dance began,
-        Awd buck-tyuth’d Nan,
-    An’, Geordy, thou’d Jen Collin-o:
-        While the merry black,
-        Wi’ monny a crack,
-    Set the tamborine a rolling-o.
-  Like wour forge hammer we bet se true,
-    An shuk Raw’s house se soundly-o:
-  Tuff canna cum up wi’ Crowley’s crew,
-    Nor thump the tune se roundly-o.
-
-        Then Gyetside Jack,
-        Wiv’s bloody back,
-    Wad dance wi’ goggle-ey’d Mally-o;
-        But up cam Nick,
-        An’ gav him a kick,
-    An’ a canny bit kind of a fally-o:
-  That day a’ Hawk’s blacks may rue,--
-    They gat monny a verra sair clanker-o;
-  Can they de ouse wi’ Crowley’s crew,
-    Frev a needle tiv a anchor-o?
-
-        What’s that to say
-        To the bonny fray
-    We had wi’ skipper Robin-o:
-        The keel bullies a’,
-        Byeth great and sma’,
-    Myed a bu----ly tide o’ the Hoppen-o.
-  Gleed Will cry’d, _Ma-a!_ up lup awd Frank,
-    An’ Robin that marry’d his dowter-o:
-  We hammer’d their ribs like a anchor shark
-    They fand it six weeks after-o.
-
-        Bald pyet Jone Carr
-        Wad hev a bit spar,
-    To help his marrows away wid-o:
-        But poor awd fellow,
-        He’d getten ower mellow,
-    So we down’d byeth him and Davy-o:
-  Then Petticoat Robin jumpt up agyen,
-    Wiv’s gully to mercykree huz a’,
-  But Willanton Dan laid him flat wiv a styen:
-    Hurro! for Crowley’s crew, boys a’!
-
-        Their hash was sattled,
-        So off we rattled,
-    An’ jigg’d it up se hearty-o?
-        Wi’ monny a shiver,
-        An’ lowp se clever,
-    Can Newcassel turn out sec a party-o?
-  When, wheit dyun ower, the fidlers went,
-    We stagger’d a hint see merry-o:
-  An’ thro’ wour town, till fairly spent,
-    Roar’d--Crowley’s Crew an’ Glory-o!
-
-
-
-
-THE SANDGATE GIRL’s LAMENTATION.
-
-
-  I was a young maiden truly,
-    And lived in Sandgate street;
-  I thought to marry a good-man,
-    To keep me warm at neit.
-      Some good-like body, some bonny body,
-        To be with me at noon;
-      But last I married a keelman,
-        And my good days are done.
-
-  I thought to marry a parson,
-    To hear me say my prayers;
-  But I have married a keelman,
-    And he kicks me down the stairs.
-      He’s an ugly body, a bubbly body,
-        An ill-far’d, ugly loon;
-      And I have married a keelman,
-        And my good days are done.
-
-  I thought to marry a dyer,
-    To die my apron blue;
-  But I have married a keelman,
-    And he makes me sorely rue.
-      He’s an ugly body, a bubbly body,
-        An ill-far’d, ugly loon;
-      And I have married a keelman,
-        And my good days are done.
-
-  I thought to marry a joiner,
-    To make me chair and stool;
-  But I have married a keelman,
-    And he’s a perfect fool.
-      He’s an ugly body, a bubbly body,
-        An ill-far’d, ugly loon;
-      And I have married a keelman,
-        And my good days are done.
-
-  I thought to marry a sailor,
-    To bring me sugar and tea;
-  But I have married a keelman,
-    And that he lets me see.
-      He’s an ugly body, a bubbly body,
-        An ill-far’d, ugly loon;
-      And I have married a keelman,
-        And my good days are done.
-
-
-
-
-_A curious Description of the City of Sandgate_, Wrote some Years ago.
-
-
-  My muse took flight the other day,
-  And rambling carelessly, astray;
-  I set my thoughts a wand’ring too,
-  The fleeting rover to pursue.
-  Yet as she has an itching still,
-  To mount the great Parnassus hill,
-  I straightway thither did repair,
-  But found she never had been there;
-  That being too divine a place,
-  For her to chant unhallow’d lays;
-  When turning quick my eye around
-  On Tindale’s shore, the wand’rer found,
-  Where she was taking a survey,
-  Of all that in her compass lay;
-  A medley of such objects rose,
-  Which pen but faintly can disclose;
-  But being in a merry pin,
-  And to describe them did begin:--
-
-    Sandgate’s the devil’s besom sure,
-  With which oft times he sweeps the floor;
-  The air’s with glasshouse smoke infected,
-  Confusion of all kinds collected;
-  Nothing but murm’ring, noise, and swearing,
-  Shocks your conscience, grates your hearing.
-  The women black, red, tawny, grey,
-  Who seldom go to church to pray;
-  Who’s sides are ne’er to stays confin’d,
-  To cramp their natural ease behind.
-  Nor modestly do they think shame,
-  To act what I don’t chuse to name;
-  Nor do they stop, when they think meet,
-  To act their lewdness in the street;
-  Whole lots of them do nightly sport,
-  With black and grey, and every sort:
-  Oft in a cannhouse you may view,
-  A gang of this sweet scented crew.
-  Who when they grow a little mellow,
-  Begin to sing and swear and bellow;
-  Like madmen in a rage or fury,
-  Not fearing either judge or jury;
-  Nor do I err much when I tell,
-  They’ve little dread of heav’n or hell.
-
-    The wife her husband thus addresses,
-  With doubled fist and flowing tresses,--
-  “Come, Tom, make haste, let us away,
-  The tide flows high, we cannot stay.”
-  “Nay, answers Tom, deel smash my heart!
-  Let us but have the other quart.”
-  She then begins to sing a song,
-  Would frighten any man but Tom,--
-  “You idle spendthrift, scant of grace,
-  I wish I ne’er had seen your face;
-  A cleanlier lass was never bred,
-  When I came to your bridal bed.
-  Had fouth of claiths to clead my back,
-  But now I’ve scarce a single plack:
-  You’ve left me bare of bed and claiths,
-  Deel brust you, by your graceless ways;
-  And when you’re drunk as you can see,
-  Come home and curse the bairns and me.
-  Turn topsy turvy all the house,
-  And every thing in it abuse;
-  Throw all the dishes off the shelf,
-  The platters, dubblers, and the delf.
-  And set the plates and spoons, in joke,
-  A flying round the room like smoke:
-  And when your family’s in need,
-  And like to starve for want of breed,
-  You’ll grudge for haver-meal to pay,
-  To make them crowdies once a day.
-  These are your pranks, you murd’ring rogue,
-  That every day you have in vogue;
-  And if you do not mend your course,
-  I must go beg--or else do worse.”
-  Tom out his hand at last did stretch,
-  “What ails you now? you grumbling bitch,
-  Peace! or your hide I’ll soundly switch.
-  Do not I almost ev’ry day,
-  At the _lang hinney’s_ o’er the way,
-  See Geordy Jenkin’s wife and you,
-  Drinking clove waters till you spue!
-  Go to the devil with your brats,
-  And vex me not with d----’d pit-rats,
-  That are not all of my begetting,
-  But plants of other people’s setting.
-  Since you have oft, by your confession,
-  From my embraces made digression,
-  Go home, G-d d--n your soul, and spin,
-  Or else, by L--d, I’ll lamb your skin.”
-
-    Thus fast unto destruction hasting,
-  Their health consuming, money wasting;
-  They drink, and ne’er for home declare,
-  Until they’re pockets are quite bare.
-  Here mangy Scots from banks of Tay,
-  With scarce a plaid to bear away;
-  Half-starv’d, they from the frozen North,
-  Like swarms of locusts, sally forth,
-  Worse than before, on Pharaoh’s land,
-  Were sent by the Almighty hand;
-  Such hardness of their hearts to purge,
-  And for their wickedness them scourge:
-  This mugletonian blackguard breed,
-  Upon our very vitals feed;
-  And, like the whelps of Juno’s pack,
-  Of Scots infection bring a smack;
-  When hither come, they seldom fail
-  To scrape the scabs from off their tail;
-  By artful tricks, and well form’d lies,
-  To skippers or such like, they rise:
-  And thus get breeches warm to wear,
-  To hide their a--e that then was bare;
-  And then set up their crops and talk,
-  As if they sprung from noble stalk.
-
-    At midnight these, and such like sots,
-  With noddles full, from stinking pots
-  Of rank geneva, and of rum,
-  They raise a scent where’er they come;
-  Reel, cursing, in a grumbling tone,
-  In some dark lane, where sun ne’er shone,
-  But darkness dire, surrounds the place,
-  An emblem of their foul disgrace:
-  Oft in a house decay’d with age,
-  Which scarce will bear the winter’s rage;
-  Whose crazy outshots threat’ning hing
-  About their ears, a peal to ring;
-  They tumble in one common bed,
-  Where all are there promiscuous laid;
-  And ten to one, but as they fall,
-  They break their heads against the wall;
-  Nor do they mind to choose their wives,
-  With whom they’re bound to lead their lives;
-  But to the first they come do keep,
-  Where, if they’re drunk, they fall asleep.
-  If not, there’s oft a general horning
-  Takes place before the next day morning.--
-  Gomorrah ne’er could fuller be
-  Than _Sandgate_ with impiety,
-  So cramm’d with immorality
-  Is every one, that if there be
-  A place on earth resembling hell,
-  That lot on _Sandgate_ surely fell:--
-  Each soul’s as bad as ---- I’ll prove it.
-  This is _Sandgate_,--can you love it?
-
-
-
-
-THE CROW’S NEST, _Built on the Top of the Exchange Steeple[7]; with a
-Prophecy, by One of the Crows, of what is to happen the Nation, and
-particularly the Town of Newcastle._
-
-  When war’s destructive rage did cease,
-    In fatal, humbling, _eighty-three_,[8]
-  And men were blest again with peace,
-    We wond’rous prodigies did see.
-
-  The Thirteen (once prescribed) States,
-    Doom’d by the hangman’s cord to die;
-  Great kings (so th’ will’d all pow’rful fates)
-    Before them almost prostrate lie.
-
-  Then fair Italia’s classic ground,
-    And rich Sicilia’s beauteous shore,
-  With palaces and temples crown’d,
-    Alas! alas! are now no more[9].
-
-  But stranger prodigies than these
-    Appear in Britain’s happy land,
-  (They say, “that wonders never cease,”)
-    For North and Fox go hand in hand.
-
-  R--h--d and S--d--ch, of one mind,
-    And all their mutual wrongs forgive,
-  (What wonders can be left behind!)
-    And henceforth like twin brothers live.
-
-  The frenzy seiz’d the feather’d race,
-    For (now when _Pitt_ would mend the nation)
-  The crows on Captain Stephenson’s trees,
-  Sat, settling plans of reformation.
-
-  An aged Rook perch’d on a bough,
-    With hoary head and jetty wing,
-  His plumy neighbours round him drew,
-    And Britain’s fate he thus did sing.
-
-  “Listen, ye Crows, my brethren all,
-    And hear what my ill-boding mind
-  Fortells--Britannia soon must fall!
-    I snuff its ruin in the wind.
-
-  “For kings, by tyranny, have driven
-    Fair Freedom from Europa’s States;
-  (Freedom! thou choicest gift of Heaven!)
-    Then hear the doom fix’d by the fates:--
-
-  “Since men the heavenly gift despise,
-    And o’er th’ Atlantic Freedom’s fled,
-  Plagues, famine, tyranny, and wars shall rise,
-    And endless woes shall all succeed!
-
-  “Let’s search for th’ ACHANS in the camp,
-    That thus have caus’d our Israel’s woes;
-  --Yes, kings, and all the bishop-stamp,
-    I dread, have been the lurking foes!
-
-  “For never shall the land have peace,
-    As good Lord George[10], and David say?
-  Till from our isle we banish these,
-    And drive such rogues a-cross the sea.”
-
-  The sable crowd croak’d hoarse applause,
-    And highly charm’d were with th’ oration,
-  Till one fierce crow their notice draws,
-    Who thus address’d the feather’d nation:--
-
-  “Rebels accurs’d!” he frown’d and cried,
-    “How could you this old traitor hear?
-  Who thus dare kings and priests deride,
-    Whom men should worship and revere.
-
-  “I see your doom, ye trait’rous crew!”--
-    Th’ impatient throng would hear no more;
-  With furious bills they at him flew,
-    And in a moment had him tore----
-
-  Had he not clapt his wings and fled,
-    And taken refuge on th’ Exchange;
-  And from its top he bow’d his head,
-    And spoke the crowds that round him range:--
-
-  “Mortals, attend with reverend awe,
-    Mark well my words, Newcastle people,
-  I’ll do what yet you never saw,
-    I build my nest upon this steeple.
-
-  “From this most happy omen, know
-    What blessings shall to you be given;
-  What peace and choicest gifts shall flow
-    From the all-kind, all-bounteous heaven.
-
-  “And first of all shall taxes cease,
-    Provisions fall, and there shall be
-  Rich golden crops, the fruits of peace,
-    And choicest product of the sea.
-
-  “Then polish’d manners shall prevail;
-    --Would you believe!--but you shall see
-  Millers no more your corn shall steal;
-    And doctors cure without a fee.
-
-  “Lawyers by strife shall cease to thrive;
-    And what’s more strange--aye, is it not?
-  The milk, and every other tythe,
-    Shall all be dropt by _Doctor Scott_!
-
-  “Then _Windydrum_ shall cease to sneer,
-    And _Shorthorn_ shall turn wond’rous civil;[11]
-  And after them you scarce need fear
-    To cultivate the very devil!
-
-  “Another prodigy comes next,
-    (When my nest shall be builded here,)
-  Parsons shall live up to their text;
-    And keelmen then shall dread to swear.
-
-  “Fish-women, too, shall then forget
-    To call their neighbours whores and bitches;
-  But what is most surprising yet--
-    Your Al---- shall ALL be WITCHES.”
-
-[7] In the year 1783, a pair of crows built their nest upon the vane of
-the Exchange, and continued many years to rear their young.
-
-[8] Alluding to the Peace of 1783, after the American War.
-
-[9] Alluding to a dreadful earthquake in Italy, which happened shortly
-before the publication of this, by which 270 cities and towns were
-destroyed, and 200,000 people perished.
-
-[10] Lord George Gordon, who at this time was very popular.
-
-[11] Alluding to two persons in Newcastle, noted for their political
-principles.
-
-
-
-
-_The following Song was published in December, 1791 as from One of the
-Rooks which then built their Nest on the Vane of the Exchange, and
-addressed to the good People of_ BUR-_CASTLE_.
-
-
-  Rough roll’d the roaring river’s stream,
-    And rapid ran the rain,
-  When Robert Rutter dreamt a dream,
-    Which rack’d his heart with pain:
-  He dreamt there was a raging bear
-    Rush’d from the rugged rocks;
-  And strutting round with horrid stare,
-    Breath’d terror to the Brocks[12].
-
-  But Robert Rutter drew his sword,
-    And rushing forward right,
-  The horrid creature’s thrapple gor’d,
-    And barr’d his rueful spite:
-  Then stretching forth his brawny arm,
-    To drag him to the stream,
-  He grappled grizzle, rough and warm,
-    Which rouz’d him from his dream.
-
-[12] Badgers.
-
-
-
-
-SONS OF THE TYNE.--1805.
-
-
-  Attend to my summons, ye _British_ Electors,
-    ’Tis freedom announces your instant support,
-  No longer your confidence place in Protectors,
-    Who pillage your Rights, and of Laws make a sport;
-  _Britannia_ demands your hearts and your hands,
-    Away to assist her, the cause is divine.
-              Come, see
-              Freedom and Liberty
-      Nobly exerting the Sons of the _Tyne_.
-
-  ’Twas Liberty gave us our Commerce and Treasure,
-    She taught us to cultivate Science and Mirth,
-  To patronize Learning and true social pleasure,
-    To lighten the heart, and give Jollity birth,
-  Come, come _Britons_ all, ’tis Liberty’s call,
-    Away with all speed to her sacred shrine.
-              Come, see
-              Freedom and Liberty
-      Nobly exerting the Sons of the _Tyne_.
-
-  With Freedom all Nations we hold in defiance,
-    The Glory of _Britain_ o’er Earth she has hurl’d,
-  And Monarchs despotic, now court our alliance,
-    The terror of States, and the pride of the World.
-  Long, long on our Isle, may Liberty smile,
-    And bless us with _Brunswick’s_ illustrious Line.
-              Come, see
-              Freedom and Liberty
-      Nobly exerting the Sons of the _Tyne_.
-
-  Be happy ye fair ones whom Freedom has given,
-    The virtue and spirit her cause to maintain,
-  Whose raiment outvies with the mantle of Heaven,
-    When _Phœbus_ unclouded, just starts from the Main,
-  To guard love and beauty, we make it our duty,
-    To aid their felicity, ever combine;
-              Come, see
-              Daughters of Liberty,
-      Greeting with rapture the Sons of the _Tyne_.
-
-
-
-
-JESMOND MILL.
-
-
-_By Phill Hodgson, of Newcastle._
-
-  To sing some nymph in her cot
-    Each bard will oft flourish his quill:
-  I’m glad it has fall’n to my lot
-    To celebrate Jesmond Mill.
-
-  When spring hither winds her career,
-    Our trees and our hedges to fill,
-  Vast oceans of verdure appear
-    To charm you at Jesmond Mill.
-
-  To plant every rural delight
-    Mere Nature has lavish’d her skill;
-  Here fragrant soft breezes unite
-    To wanton round Jesmond Mill.
-
-  When silence each evening here dwells,
-    The birds in their coverts all still;
-  No music in sweetness excels
-    The clacking of Jesmond Mill.
-
-  Reclin’d by the verge of the stream,
-    Or stretch’d on the side of the hill,
-  I’m never in want of a theme
-    While learning at Jesmond Mill.
-
-  Sure Venus some plot has design’d,
-    Or why is my heart never still,
-  Whenever it pops in my mind
-    To wander near Jesmond Mill?
-
-  My object, ye swains, you will guess,
-    If ever in love you had skill;
-  And now, I will frankly confess,
-    ’Tis--Jenny of Jesmond Mill.
-
-
-
-
-PANDON DEAN.
-
-
-_A Song published in Sept. 1776, under the Name of Rosalinda._
-
-  When cooling zephyrs wanton play,
-  Then oft in Pandon Dean I stray;
-  When sore dispers’d with grief and woe,
-  Then from a busy world I go;
-  My mind is calm, my soul serene,
-  Beneath the Bank in Pandon Dean.
-
-  The feather’d race around me sing,
-  They make the hills and vallies ring;
-  My sorrow flies, my grief is gone,
-  I warble with the tuneful throng;
-  All, all things wear a pleasing mien,
-  Beneath the Bank in Pandon Dean.
-
-  At distance stands an ancient tower,
-  Which ruin threatens every hour;
-  I’m struck with reverence at the sight,
-  I pause and gaze with fond delight;
-  The antique walls do join the scene,
-  And makes more lovely Pandon Dean.
-
-  Above me stand the towering trees,
-  While here I feel the gentle breeze;
-  The water flows by chance around,
-  And green enamels all the ground:
-  Which gives new splendour to the scene,
-  And adds a grace to Pandon Dean.
-
-  But when I mount the rising hill,
-  And there survey the purling rill,
-  My eye delighted--but I mourn,
-  To think of winter’s quick return;
-  With withering winds and frost so keen,
-  I sighing leave the Pandon Dean.
-
-  O spare for once a female pen,
-  And lash licentious wicked men;
-  Your conscious cheek need never glow,
-  If you your talents thus bestow:
-  Scarce fifteen summers have I seen,
-  Yet dare to sing of Pandon Dean.
-
-
-
-
-NANNY OF THE TYNE.
-
-
-By J.M. WEDDERBURN, of Newcastle.
-
-_Set to Music by John Aldridge, Jun. of Newcastle._
-
-  Whilst bards, in strains that sweetly flow,
-    Extol each nymph so fair,
-  Be mine my Nanny’s worth to show--
-    Her captivating air.
-  What swain can gaze without delight
-    On beauty there so fine?
-  The Graces all their charms unite
-    In Nanny of the Tyne.
-
-  Far from the noise of giddy courts
-    The lovely charmer dwells;
-  Her cot the haunt of harmless sports,
-    In virtue she excells.
-  With modesty, good nature join’d,
-    To form the nymph divine;
-  And truth, with innocence combin’d,
-    In Nanny of the Tyne.
-
-  Flow on, smooth stream, in murmurs sweet
-    Glide gently past her cot;
-  ’Tis peace and virtue’s calm retreat,--
-    Ye great ones envied not.
-  And you, ye fair, whom folly leads
-    Through all her paths supine,
-  Tho’ drest in pleasure’s garb, exceeds
-    Not Nanny of the Tyne.
-
-  Can art to nature e’er compare,
-    Or win us to believe
-  But that the frippery of the fair
-    Were made but to deceive.
-  Strip from the belle the dress so gay,
-    Which fashion calls divine,
-  Will she such loveliness display
-    As Nanny of the Tyne?
-
-
-
-
-THE BLUE BELL OF GATESHEAD.
-
-
-_By W.B. of Gateshead._
-
-  Oh! where, and oh where does your bonny lassie dwell?
-  Oh! where, and oh where does your bonny lassie dwell?
-  She lives in canny Gateshead, at the sign of the Blue Bell:
-  And it’s oh! in my heart, but I love my lassie well.
-
-  And what’s best compar’d to the mind of your true love?
-  And what’s best compar’d to the mind of your true love?
-  The meekness of a lamb, and th’ innocence of the dove;
-  These are the true emblems of the mind of her I love.
-
-  In what, and in what does your bonny lass excell?
-  In what, and in what does your bonny lass excell?
-  She’s modest as the daisy, sweet as the heather-bell;
-  And it’s oh! in my heart, I love my lassie well.
-
-  And what wad ye dee to please the maid you love?
-  And what wad ye dee to please the maid you love?
-  I’d be a saikless wanderer, and through the wide world rov
-  Till death clos’d my eyes--to please the maid I love.
-
-
-
-
-THE NEWCASTLE SIGNS.
-
-
-_Written by Mr CECIL PITT, and sung at the Theatre-Royal, Newcastle, by
-Mr SCRIVEN, June 4, 1806._
-
-  Should the French in Newcastle but dare to appear,
-  At each sign they would meet with indifferent cheer;
-  From the Goat, and the Hawk, from the Bell, and the Waggon,
-  And Dog they would skip, as St George made the Dragon.
-
-  The Billet, the Highlander, Cross Keys, and Sun,
-  The Eagle, and Ships too, would shew ’em some fun;
-  The Three Kings and Unicorn, Bull’s Head, and Horse,
-  Would prove that the farther they went they’d fare worse.
-
-  At the Black House, a _strong-Arm_ would lay ev’ry man on,
-  And they’d quickly go off, if they got in the Cannon;
-  The Nelson and Turk’s Head their fears would increase,
-  And they’d run from the Swan like a parcel of geese.
-
-  At the York, and the Cumberland, Cornwallis too,
-  With our fighting Cocks, sure they’d find plenty to do;
-  The Nag’s Head, and Lions, would cut such an evil,
-  And the Angel would drive the whole crew to the devil.
-
-  At the World, and the Fountain, the Bridge, Crown and Thistle,
-  The Bee-Hive and Tuns, for a drop they might whistle;
-  With our Prince, or our Crown, should they dare interpose,
-  They’d prick their French fingers well under the Rose.
-
-  At the Half-Moon, the Wheat-Sheaf, and Old Barley-Mow,
-  A sup’s to be got,--if they could but tell how;
-  If they call’d at the Bull and the Tyger, to ravage,
-  As well as the Black Boy, they’d find ’em quite savage.
-
-  At the Ark, and the Anchor, Pack Horse, and Blue Posts,
-  And the Newmarket Inn, they would find but rough hosts;
-  The Old Star and Garter, Cock, Anchor, and more,
-  Would prove like the Grapes, all most cursedly sour.
-
-  The Lion and Lamb, Plough, and Old Robin Hood,
-  With the Crane House, would check these delighters in blood;
-  From the Butcher’s Arms quick they’d be running away,
-  And we all know that Shakespear would shew ’em some play.
-
-  At the White Hart, Three Bull’s Heads, the Old Dog and Duck,
-  If they did not get thrash’d they’d escape by good luck;
-  At the Bird in the Bush, Metter’s Arms, Peacock, they’d fast,
-  And our King’s and Queen’s Heads we’ll defend till the last.
-
-  May the sign of the King ever meet with respect,
-  And our great Constitution each Britain protect;
-  And may he who would humble our old British Crown,
-  Be hung on a Sign-post till I take him down.
-
-
-
-
-THE NEWCASTLE BELLMAN.
-
-
-_As sung by MR NOBLE, at the Theatre Royal, in 1803._
-
-  Talk no more of brave Nelson, or gallant Sir Sidney,
-  ’Tis granted they’re Tars of a true British kidney;
-  And people are curious, such heroes to see,
-  But neither, are half so much follow’d as Me;
-      O when, ding dong, ding dong, my Bell goes,
-          Carts, Barrows, are stopt at the sound;
-      Each news-loving Porter, straight makes a fill pause,
-      And wonder-struck, shews the full stretch of his Jaws,
-      When sonorous I publish all round.----
-
-_FIRST CALL._
-
-LOST! on Saturday Evening last, between Love Lane and the Long Stairs;
-a _Tarrier Dog_, entirely White, with two Brown Ears and a Black Spot
-upon his Tail, and answers to the Name of _Shak’em_; the Dog was last
-seen at the Entrance of the Close: and has got an ugly Trick of shaking
-his Right Ear and Tail as he walks;--is considered to be rather deaf,
-as he does not always answer to the first call----Whosoever will bring
-him to me shall be handsomely rewarded: and any detaining him after
-this Notice, will be prosecuted according to Law.----
-
-  With Orators sir, e’en senate to grace,
-  What town’s better stock’d, pray, than this canny place,
-  Ah! would you, the flow’r of those Orators see?
-  _Ecce Homo’s_ the word,--you behold him in Me!
-      O when ding dong, ding dong, my Bell goes,
-          Shoe-makers with joy catch the sound;
-      And truly like so many Larks they are found:
-      Each swiftly descends from his garret on high;
-          When sonorous I publish all round.
-
-_SECOND CALL._
-
-STOLEN or Strayed, from a field in Pandon Dean, three beautiful _smoke
-colour’d Sheep_, marked T.G. justly esteemed the most picturesque
-Ornaments of that celebrated Vale.----The Admirers of rural Scenery
-hereby offer a _handsome Reward_ to whoever will bring them back to
-the Dean, if strayed, or give such information as may convict the
-_Mutton-loving Rogues_, who have stolen them.
-
-  The Town Marshal proclaims peace, incomp’rably well,
-  Few, at calling a Fair, the Sheriff’s Serjeant excell;
-  But in _Pathos_, the Critics, _mem. con._ do agree,
-  The Marshal and Serjeant must both yield to Me;
-      O when ding dong, ding dong, my Bell goes,
-          Barbers prick up their ears at the sound;
-      And heedless how half-shaven customers swear,
-      Come eagerly running my budget to hear,
-          When sonorous I publish all round.
-
-_THIRD CALL._
-
-FOUND, last Winter, near the Turk’s Head Inn, which has not since been
-claimed, _a Lady’s Hat and Wig_, supposed to have been blown off the
-Head of the fair Owner whilst in a state of _Indescribability_.----Any
-Lady who can prove them to be her Property, may have them again, free
-of all Expence; but if not claimed and identified before the first of
-April next, they will be sold, and the Money given as a Donation to the
-Fever Hospital.
-
-  The Watchmen, ’tis granted, correctly and clever,
-  Of the hour informs us, and state of the weather;
-  But doubly delightful, their _calling_ would be,
-  Were they all wise enough to take lessons from Me;
-      O when ding dong, ding dong, my Bell goes,
-          Each Taylor leaps up at the sound;
-      Off, to hear me, like roe bucks, they scampering set,
-      So delighted, I’m told, that they _cabbage_ forget,
-          When sonorous I publish all round.
-
-_FOURTH CALL._
-
-To be sold by Auction, J.M. Auctioneer, a large and choice Collection
-of Materials for Sleeping,--consisting of a Quantity of old News;
-erroneous and clumsy Statements of recent events; heavy Critiques
-on Theatrical Performers and Plays _not_ performed; flat Pieces of
-uninteresting Biography; drowsy original Letters; dull Extracts from
-a northern _Caput Mortuum_ of Insipidity; a Number of Puns, Jests,
-and old Anecdotes, warranted free from Attic Salt, chigramatic Point,
-or any other Ingredient capable of rousing Attention or exciting
-Risibility; also, a Quantity of pure Tyne Mercury, which possesses
-the peculiar Property of never rising in the Barometer of public
-Estimation, higher than the Point Ennui.--The Sale to begin every
-Monday Evening at Eight o’Clock, and continue till all be sold.
-
-  I’m resolv’d--may I hope you’ll approve of the measure?--
-  A short course of Lectures to give, when I’ve leisure;
-  In order to perfect these Orators’ graces,
-  Who cry Dying Speeches and Lists of the Races:
-      But, hark! ding dong, the Prompter’s Bell goes,
-          I’m electrified by the sound;
-      Mr Lindoe,[13] your summons I haste to obey,
-      Yet Gratitude bids me one moment delay--
-          Just to thank my kind Patrons all round.
-
-[13] The then Prompter at the Theatre.
-
-
-
-
-OXYGEN GAS.
-
-
-_By JOHN SHIELD, of Newcastle, and sung at the Newcastle Theatre Royal_.
-
-  On Rhenish, Medeira, Port, Claret, and Sherry,
-    Your fulsome eulogiums, bon-vivants, pray spare;
-  ’Tis granted, when sad, wine can render us merry,
-    And lighten our bosoms of sorrow and care;
-        But what vintage can fire us,
-        Enrapture, inspire us,
-  As Oxygen? what so delicious to quaff?
-        It is so animating,
-        And so titillating,
-  E’en grey-beards turn frisky, dance, caper, and laugh,
-          For what can so fire us, &c.
-
-  O wond’rous indeed is this bev’rage ethereal!
-    The mortal who quaffs it, altho’ a mere clod,
-  Is straightway transformed to a being ærial,
-    And moves on earth’s surface in fancy a God.
-        In a bumper is given
-        A foretaste of Heaven,
-  All earthly vexation straight cease to annoy,
-        Whilst laughing and crying,
-        And efforts at flying,
-  Bespeak the soul tost in a tempest of joy.
-          For what can so fire us, &c.
-
-  Haste, haste to partake on’t, ye men of grave faces,
-    Ye Quakers, and Methodist parsons likewise;
-  What tho’ ye seem lost to the flexible graces,
-    And dormant the risible faculty lies;
-        One quaff of the vapour
-        Will cause you to caper,
-  And swiftly relax your stiff solemniz’d jaws;
-        You’ll acknowledge the change too,
-        As pleasing as strange too,
-  And make the air ring with loud ha! ha! ha! ha’s!
-          For what can so fire us, &c.
-
-  Let gin, rum, and brandy grow dearer and dearer,
-    Distillers stop working--no toper will mourn;
-  Of Gas we can make a delectable cheerer,
-    Which, nor reddens our noses, nor livers will burn;
-        Unbeholden to whisky
-        We’ll drink and get frisky,
-  Nor fear that to-morrow our temples may ache;
-        Neither stomach commotions,
-        Nor camomile potions,
-  Shall evermore cause us with terror to quake;
-          For what can so fire us, &c.
-
-  Let the miser’s deep coffers be fill’d to his mind now,
-    Let the man of ambition with honours abound,
-  Give the lover his mistress, complying and kind too,
-    And with laurel let Poets and Heroes be crown’d.
-        Let all be blest round me,
-        No envy shall wound me,
-  Contented and cheerful thro’ life will I pass,
-        If fortune befriends me,
-        And constantly sends me
-  A _quantum sufficit_ of Oxygen Gas.
-          For what can so fire us, &c.
-
-
-
-
-THE BARDS OF THE TYNE.
-
-
-_Published in the Tyne Mercury Newspaper, under the Signature of C.P._
-(Charles Purvis.)
-
-_Tune_--Newcastle Beer.
-
-  Ye sons of Parnassus, whose brains are inspir’d
-    With envy or madness, dame dullness, or wine,
-  Who wish to be flatter’d, or prais’d, or admir’d,
-    Leave thinking, and fly to the banks of the Tyne:
-        No wit is requir’d
-        To make you admir’d,
-  Let doggrel run limping thro’ each crippled line;
-        No humour degrades,
-        Nor genius pervades
-  The verses sublime of our Bards of the Tyne.
-
-  No soft flowing numbers must ravish the senses,
-    Whose soothing meanders a ditty would stain
-  A muse with such drowsy materials dispenses,
-    Whilst Grub-street’s quintessence will squeese from the brain:
-        How sweetly the strains
-        Must thrill thro’ the veins,
-  When Sandgate and Bedlam together combine;
-        Or “Oxygen Gas,”
-        From the pipe of an ass,
-  Rarifies the dence brains of our Bards of the Tyne.
-
-  With rhymers our Theatre’s always surrounded,
-    Whose Bellman taught lays set the house in a roar:
-  Common sense stands aghast, thunder-struck and confounded,
-    While Dullness brays out from its Gall’ry, _Encore!_
-        Then, big with applause,
-        Crack’s Scotch ell of jaws[14]
-  Sets forth a hoarse bawling, so purely divine,
-        That hydras or bears
-        Might prick up their ears,
-  And howl out in concert with Bards of the Tyne.
-
-[14] Alluding to the character of Crack, in the farce of the Turnpike
-Gate, where Mr Noble performed with true spirit.
-
-
-
-
-AN ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING.
-
-
-_By JAMES STAWPERT_.
-
-  Who’s he that with great _Mercury_ strides,
-      In imitation’s line,
-  And, without reason, thus derides
-      The poets of the Tyne?
-
-  Who, not content with critic’s skill,
-      That lets no error pass;
-  In passion’s cup he dips his quill,
-      And calls his brother--ass.
-
-  I tell thee, Satirist, forbear,
-      For asses have a trick,
-  And, if provok’d, ’tis very rare
-      They’re not inclin’d to kick.
-
-  Now should great Fate ordain it so,
-      That this poor docile beast,
-  Whom thou hast term’d so very low,
-      E’en lowest of the least:
-
-  I say, should ancient Baalam’s steed,
-      (For so thou nam’st the man)
-  Tell thee in time to take good heed,
-      Thy manners rough to scan;
-
-  Or if, like thee, he write with ire,
-      And ask in angry strains,
-  What set thy sleepy muse on fire,
-      Or rous’d thy muddy brains?
-
-  Nay further, should he analize
-      The words “Oxygen Gas,”
-  He might make thee a monst’rous size,
-      E’en, larger than an ass!
-
-  The thought will no great time afford,
-      Nor needs much Orthodox,
-  For, take four letters from the word,
-      It makes thee out an OX.
-
-  I think the appellation suits,
-      Yet this believe from me,
-  Had thou not been so fond of brutes,
-      I’d not made one of thee.
-
-  Adieu then, ancient Egypt’s god,
-      Or shall I call thee bull?
-  When next thou handles Satyr’s rod,
-      Pray write thy name in full.
-
-  For two initials, such as thine,
-      Might make dame dullness pause,
-  And simple poets of the Tyne,
-      Find terms in Nature’s laws.
-
-  By adding _letters_ to the two
-      Which thou hast late put down;
-  No, faith, I have not time just now,
-      And _Modesty_ might frown.
-
-
-
-
-THE RAREE SHOW MAN.
-
-
-_An Election Song._--(20th September, 1780.)
-
-_The following Verses, at an Election Song, being rather contrary to
-the general Arrangement of this Work, but possessing Novelty, must
-plead for its Insertion._
-
-  Allons, sweet childs, of smooth complexion,
-  Come see de grande, de rare election,
-  Me show de hole in much perfection.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  No congstable on me doth frownee,
-  In dis Newcastel famous townee,
-  Vare some veare breaches, some de gounee.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  But den before dat I do callee,
-  You give me sixpence, price is smallee;
-  And den I’ll nothing ask at allee.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  In fronte, you see de agents coming,
-  Vast great, much consequence assuming,
-  Far, farther far, than is becoming.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  See dere de vulgar _scum_ begin it,
-  Den next de Sylock _bankiers_ pin it;
-  Ah dere!--de devil’s selfe is in it.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  O wonderful! how dey do tumble,
-  Just like de Jack of cards dey tumble,
-  De kings, with knaves and duces humble.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  Dare de parson, lawyer, scrambles,
-  Dare physic doctors in de shambles,
-  Vere some do make de long preambles!
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  See all de shop-folks gaping, staring,
-  Few understanding, fewer caring,
-  Vether perjury be swearing!
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  Oh bless us! how you slaves are roaring,
-  Deir cunning patrons stagger snoring,
-  Inclined pocket trusting more in.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  Next you do see, from street of tripee,
-  De Goatside boys, for huzza ripee;
-  Vith all de lads dat make de pipee.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  And next you do behold, so stirring,
-  Like horned cattle in de murrain,
-  Dose jolly blades dat speak so burring.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  Dese be good freemen, as dey’re called;
-  ’Tis not for nothing dey have bauled;
-  Huzza! till to de poll dey’re hauled!
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  Stand fast--have care--see from de denny,
-  Come, elbow forth, de gentlemeny,
-  Vith all de brains--if dey have any.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  Now den, now den, de bright candidates,
-  Up top hustings, hope and fear deir fates:
-  Whilst all de congstables surround de gates.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  Ay now de mountain be in labour;
-  Blo, blo de fifee, sound de tabre;
-  Flash, flash de brade sword and de sabre.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  For _toute le Monde_ vill see, no doubtee,
-  Dat someting, noting, vill come outee,
-  To make de people glore aboutee.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  If dat brave Monsieur _Bowes_[15] be chosen,
-  De legs vill dance by score, by dozen,
-  And all de grande vill call him couzen.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-  Den come again, sweet childs, to-morrow,
-  Me show you ten hundred joy--no sorrow;
-  But bring de sixpence, if you borrow.
-            Doodle, doodle, doo.
-
-[15] Andrew Robinson Bowes, who gained his election, (1780) though
-unsuccessful in the contest on the death of Sir Walter Blackett in
-1777. This person came to Newcastle as ensign in the 30th regiment
-of foot, quartered in that town; shortly after he married the only
-daughter of William Newton, Esq. a lady of fortune; after her death
-he married (1777) the Countess of Strathmore, from whom he was
-divorced for cruelty, in 1785. He served the office of Sheriff of
-Northumberland, 1780; and died in the King’s Bench, 16th January, 1810.
-
-
-
-
-BARBER’s NEWS: OR, _Shields in an Uproar!!!_
-
-
-A New Song.
-
-Tune--“_O the golden Days of good Queen Bess._”
-
-  Great was the consternation, amazement, and dismay, Sir,
-  Which, both in _North_ and _South Shields_, prevail’d the other day, Sir;
-  Quite panic-struck the natives were, when told by the barber,
-  That a terrible _Sea Monster_ had got into the harbour.
-      “Have you heard the news Sir?” What news, pray master barber?
-      “Oh a terrible _sea monster_ has got into the harbour!”
-
-  Now each honest man in _Shields_--I mean both North and South, Sir,
-  Delighting in occasions to expand their eyes and mouth, Sir:
-  And fond of seeing marv’lous sights, ne’er stay’d to get his beard off;
-  But ran to view the monster, its arrival, when he heard of.
-      Oh! who could think of shaving when inform’d by the barber,
-      That a terrible _Sea Monster_ had got into the harbour.
-
-  Each wife pursu’d her husband, and every child its mother,
-  Lads and lasses _helter skelter_, scamper’d after one another;
-  Shopkeepers and mechanics too, forsook their daily labours,
-  And ran to gape and stare among their gaping staring neighbours.
-      All crowded to the river side, when told by the barber,
-      That a terrible _Sea Monster_ had got into the harbour.
-
-  It happens very frequently that _barber’s news_ is _fiction_, Sir,
-  But the wond’rous news this morning was truth no contradiction, Sir;
-  A something sure enough was there among the billows flouncing,
-  Now sinking in the deep profound, now on th’ surface bouncing.
-      True as Gazette or Gospel were the tidings of the barber,
-      That a terrible _Sea Monster_ had got into the harbour.
-
-  Some thought it was a _Shark_, Sir, a _Porpus_ some conceived it;
-  Some said it was a _Grampus_, and some a _Whale_ believ’d it;
-  Some swore it was a _Sea Horse_, then own’d themselves mistaken,
-  For, now they’d got a nearer view--’twas certainly _a Kraken_.
-      Each sported his opinion, from the parson to the barber,
-      Of the terrible _Sea Monster_ they had got in the harbour.
-
-  “Belay, belay,” a sailor cried, “_what that, this thing_, a _Kraken_!
-  ’Tis no more like one, split my jib, than it is a flitch of bacon!
-  I’ve often seen a hundred such, all sporting in the Nile, Sir,
-  And you may trust a sailor’s word, it is a _Crocodile_, Sir.”
-      Each strait to Jack _knocks under_, from the parson to the barber,
-      And all agreed a _Crocodile_ had got into the harbour.
-
-  Yet greatly Jack’s discovery his auditors did shock, Sir,
-  For they dreaded that the _Salmon_ would be eat up by the Croc. Sir:
-  When presently the _Crocodile_, their consternation crowning,
-  Raised its head above the waves, and cried, “_Help! O Lord, I’m
-                                                           drowning!_”
-      Heavens! how their hair, Sir, stood on end, from the parson to
-                                                           the barber;
-      To find a _Speaking Crocodile_ had got into the harbour.
-
-  This dreadful exclamation appall’d both young and old, Sir,
-  In the very stoutest hearts, indeed, it made the blood run cold, Sir;
-  Ev’n _Jack_, the hero of the Nile, it caus’d to quake and tremble,
-  Until an old wife, sighing, cried “_Alas! ’tis Stephen K----._”
-      Heav’ns! however all astonish’d, from the parson to the barber,
-      To find that Stephen K---- was the monster in the harbour.
-
-  Strait crocodilish fears gave place to manly gen’rous strife, Sir,
-  Most willingly each lent a hand to save poor Stephen’s life, Sir;
-  They drag’d him gasping to the shore, impatient for his history,
-  For how he came in that sad plight, to them was quite a mystery.
-      Tears glisten’d, Sir, in every eye, from the parson to the barber,
-      When, swoln to thrice his natural _size_, they drag’d him from the
-                                                                 harbour.
-
-  Now having roll’d and rubb’d him well an hour upon the beach, Sir,
-  He got upon his legs again, and made a serious speech, Sir;
-  Quoth he, “An ancient proverb says, and true it will be found, Sirs,
-  Those born to prove an _airy doom_, will surely never be drown’d, Sirs.
-      For fate, Sirs, has us all in tow, from the monarch to the barber;
-      Or surely I had breathed my last this morning in the harbour.
-
-  Resolv’d to cross the _River_, Sirs, a Sculler did I get into,
-  May Jonah’s ill-luck be mine, another when I step into!
-  Just when we’d reach’d the deepest part, O horror! there it founders,
-  And down went poor Pillgarlick amongst the Crabs and Flounders!
-      But fate, that keeps us all in tow, from the monarch to the barber,
-      Ordain’d I should not breathe my last, this morning in the harbour.
-
-  I’ve broke down many a stage coach, and many a chaise and gig, Sirs,
-  Once, in passing through a trap-hole, I found myself too big, Sirs,
-  I’ve been circumstanc’d most oddly, whilst contesting hard a race, Sirs,
-  But ne’er was half so frighten’d, as amongst the Crabs and Plaise, Sirs.
-      O fate, Sirs, keeps us all in tow, from the monarch to the barber,
-      Or certainly I’d breath’d my last, this morning in the harbour.
-
-  My friends, for your exertions, my heart o’erflows with gratitude,
-  O may it prove the last time, you find me in that latitude;
-  God knows with what mischances dire, the future may abound, Sirs,
-  But I hope and trust I’m one of those, not fated to be drown’d, Sirs.”
-      Thus ended his oration, Sir, I had it from the barber;
-      And dripping, like some _River God_, he slowly left the harbour.
-
-  Ye men of _North_ and _South Shields_ too, God send ye all prosperity,
-  May your commerce ever flourish, your stately ships still crowd the sea;
-  Unrivall’d in the Coal Trade, till doomsday may you stand, Sirs,
-  And every hour, fresh wonders, your eyes and mouths expand, Sirs.
-      And long may _Stephen K----_ live, and never may the barber
-      Mistake him for a monster more, deep floundering in the harbour.
-
-
-
-
-SONG, _On the Flight of the young Crows, from Newcastle Exchange; with
-their Address to the Corporation._
-
-
-    The young brood fairly fledg’d, we may fairly suppose,
-  Half the world must have heard of our Newcastle CROWS?
-  How their _daddy_, bold bird! from a rabble got free,
-  And was fully determin’d a freeman to be!
-  On the _vane_ of the steeple, upon the Exchange,
-  Completed his nest, which beholders thought strange:
-  His bright jetty _consort_ accomplish’d her part,
-  Nor foes, nor foul weather could alter her heart.
-
-    Their younglings, quite able to take distant flight,
-  Were told, by their parents, “_Good manners are right_.”
-  To their freedom admitted--they could do no less,
-  Than approach their kind patrons, with humble ADDRESS;
-  To thank them politely, without wanton joke,
-  For, so learned in _swallow_, they must learn to _croak_.--
-  In a trice----as if ÆSOP himself had inspir’d,
-  They began their address, whilst their hearers admir’d.
-
-    “Ye wise men, and good men, of NEWCASTLE GUILD,
-  Who suffer’d our father and mother to build----
-  High, upon the high pinnacle of your Exchange,
-  And here see their offspring just ready to range;
-  To range with sweet freedom, o’er land, and o’er seas,
-  To eat and to drink, and to _croak_ as we please----
-  Accept our plain thanks, while the reasons we clear,
-  Why some _Merlin_, or _Shipton_, hath sure sent us here.
-
-    “One thousand seven hundred, eighty and three,
-  For this town, a remarkable æra will be!
-  All folks will _think_ right, from grave age to smart youth,
-  Nor priests, nor disciples, _e’er_ wander from TRUTH;
-  Your rulers be loyal to great George the third,
-  Each rich man prove honest, and _just_ to his word:
-  No _fair-trading_ merchant will _smuggle_, or cheat,
-  No foul gorging glutton _waste_ poor people’s meat.
-
-  “Your fine Sandhill _maidens_ be merry and wise,
-  From their _crying_ of lemons, to _selling_ of pies;
-  Your green, and rare fish-women, civil enough,
-  Your milliners spruce, not so apt to take huff.
-  Up the SIDE, you’ll hear compliments, happy and free,
-  Where hot _puddings_, and _haggishes_, plenty shall be:
-  The silver-smiths, coopers, and tinmen will join
-  To sound the _reforms_ now produc’d on the TYNE.
-
-  “Your Sandgate smart girls, the gay world will surprise,
-  Grown _cleanly_, and decent, and _modest_, and wise;
-  The keelmen, in _manners_, become quite polite,
-  No _cursing_ at morn, nor _much_ drunk over night!
-  _Refining_ in language, _improving_ in notes,
-  Letter _R_ run far smoother, and _glib_ through their throats:
-  Their Andrews, these sirnames, bear better degrees,
-  Ralphs, Richardsons, Rogersons, uttered with ease.
-
-  “No tailor will _cabbage_, no draper will _pinch_,
-  No shoemaker _squeeze_ a full nail from an inch;
-  No baker, or flourman, be short of his weight,
-  No forestaller _breed_ low designs in his pate;
-  No butcher, on _Bank_, keep prices too high,
-  No hatter, no baker, deceive with a _lie_!----
-  But what will stand foremost in public parade,
-  Newcastle shall furnish a _cheaper_ COAL TRADE!
-
-  “In _politics_, surely, such changes will be,
-  The people and magistrates _mutual_ agree;
-  No bribery, no menace, no little whit self,
-  No pride overbearing, or _impudent_ wealth;
-  But each _voter_ prove honest to OLD ENGLAND’S laws,
-  Still prudently guarding fair liberty’s cause!
-  And so, brother freemen, God bless ye, _adieu!_
-  We fly to sage FRANKLIN, and WASHINGTON now.”
-
-
-
-
-A RARE CURIOSITY: OR, _CROW’S NEST IN GATESHEAD_. A NEW SONG.
-
-
-  As Neddy and Betty were walking along,
-  Each cheerfully joining in dialogue song;
-  I met them, delighted on Gateshead green hill,
-  While Betty’s sweet voice charm’d all lads round each mill.
-                              Derry down, &c.
-
-  _BETTY._
-
-  Indeed, honest Neddy! the news is quite true,
-  Th’ Sandhill, no longer crow nests we can view;
-  The downfalling Steeple, and coming down Change,
-  Oblig’d feather’d builders at distance to range.
-                              Derry down, &c.
-
-  _NEDDY._
-
-  Does not my fair Betty know perfectly well,
-  No birds in prognostics black crows can excell?
-  No sooner their nests on the Sandhill were shewn,
-  Than public improvements came rapidly on.
-                              Derry down, &c.
-
-  _BETTY._
-
-  O yes I remember, from _Close_ when they flew,
-  What crowds of spectators their nests came to view;
-  When pitched so nicely on top of the vane,
-  As signals, where Justice and Commerce did reign.
-                              Derry down, &c.
-
-  _NEDDY._
-
-  It is very true, my dear charmer, indeed,
-  Spectators beheld vast improvements succeed;
-  A beautiful Square, named Charlotte the Queen,
-  New streets, and Assembly Rooms elegant seen.
-                              Derry down, &c.
-
-  _BETTY._
-
-  O yes, and a Theatre, royal and fine,
-  Erected, no doubt, for some noble design;
-  To shew thoughtless mortals of ev’ry degree,
-  How defaulting they are, how good they should be.
-                              Derry down, &c.
-
-  _NEDDY._
-
-  From thence, if reflection keeps soberly on,
-  We’ve the _Free Mason Lodge_, in the style of St John;[16]
-  Where true wit and humour with charity meet,
-  And souls are united in union complete.
-                              Derry down, &c.
-
-  _BETTY._
-
-  I’m calling to mind, what a gipsy once told,
-  Who came in the crowd the _crow’s nest_ to behold;
-  “These crows are wise creatures--Trade here will improve,
-  As sure as the winds can that weather-cock move!”
-                              Derry down, &c.
-
-  _NEDDY._
-
-  Then Gateshead is lucky, I vow and declare,
-  Behold, my dear Betty! where now the crows are;
-  Near Battle Bank foot, their snug nests you may find,
-  Upon those new chimnies, set free to the wind.
-                              Derry down, &c.
-
-  _BETTY._
-
-  O wonderful! Neddy, I see them so plain,
-  Quite opposite now to their former gilt vane;
-  The _Stamp Office_ chosen, they mean to proceed,
-  The good folk of Gateshead are lucky indeed.
-                              Derry down, &c.
-
-  _NEDDY._
-
-  Then let me, dear Betty, meet better luck still,
-  Come, give me thy heart and thy hand with good will;
-  You know I am honest, my vows are sincere,
-  From all the deceits of vile rascals quite clear.
-                              Derry down, &c.
-
-  _BETTY._
-
-  So many false villains but court to deceive,
-  We virgins in prudence should slowly believe;
-  If they can but the punishing laws once escape,
-  They fear not the devil, his torments, or shape.
-                              Derry down, &c.
-
-  _NEDDY._
-
-  May all worthy millers grind such rascals down,
-  Till neither their dust nor their ashes are known;
-  Here’s my hand, dearest Bett! for life let us join,
-  Consent--and to morrow my _all_ shall be thine.
-                              Derry down, &c.
-
-  _BETTY._
-
-  Dear Ned! I believe, and to-morrow shall see,
-  How blessing and blest honest lovers can be;
-  _The crow’s nest in Gateshead_ full witness may prove,
-  That none but vile _fools_ are deceitful in love.
-                              Derry down, down, hey derry down.
-
-[16] St John’s Lodge, No. 184, Free Masons’ Hall, Low Friar Street,
-Newcastle, dedicated October 18th, 1777, was some years after disused
-and converted into the Dispensary.
-
-
-
-
-THE FRENCH INVASION.
-
-
-_Published May 10th, 1794._
-
-Some wags, taking advantage of the alarm of invasion in March, 1794,
-sent two letters, with the counterfeit signatures of two magistrates
-in Northumberland, to the Mayor of Newcastle, stating, that a party of
-French had landed on the coast, near Bambrough; this occasioned some
-bustle in Newcastle; 270l. reward was afterward offered in vain for the
-discovery of the writers.
-
-  “Now fill a bumper to the brim,
-    “And drink to _Gotham’s mayor_;
-  “And when again he hears such news,
-    “May _Fa----berg_ be there.”
-
-  Thus lately in a loyal song,
-    Sung some right loyal bard;
-  And righteous too, no doubt was he,
-    For lo! his prayer was heard.
-
-  News, direful news from BAMBRO’ came,
-    The _French_ were landed there;
-  A letter, written with all speed,
-    Was sent to _Gotham’s mayor_.
-
-  “The crews of three French ships of war,
-    Have landed in our coast,
-  Send for _Lord F----berg_,” quoth he,
-    “Or we shall all be lost.
-
-  “Our bullocks they have ta’en away,
-    Our cows and sheep besides.”
-  “O woe betide them,” says our _mayor_,
-    “They’ll raise the _price_ of HIDES.”
-
-  “Fear not, fear not,” says _F----berg_,
-    Who now before him stood,
-  “To guard you I will spend my last,
-    Last drop of noble blood!”
-
-  On this our _mayor_ began to hold
-    Erect his drooping head;
-  “I will not,” quoth _Lord F----berg_,
-    “This night lay down my head.
-
-  “To guard-house I will hie with speed,
-    And watch ’till morn appear;
-  Each _Gothamite_ may soundly sleep,
-    No cause have they to fear.”
-
-  “Meantime” says _Gotham’s mayor_, “I will
-    In haste, a letter write
-  To George our king, some ships to send,
-    To intercept their flight.”
-
-  To _George_ our king the tidings came,
-    At London where he lay;
-  “What! cattle, cattle, sheep indeed!--
-    To Windsor haste away;
-
-  “Lock up my pretty little sheep,
-    My pigs and geese likewise;
-  No bloody Frenchman shall destroy
-    What I so dearly prize.
-
-  “Then run tell _Billy Pitt_ to come,
-    And bring his _brother_ here;
-  But first call _Tom_ the butler up,
-    To get me some small beer.
-
-  “How happens _Chat--m_, that no ships
-    You have sent to the North?
-  Not one, I’m told, is to be seen
-    From Thames unto the Forth.”
-
-  “So please you,” bowing low, says _John_,
-    “I would have sent a few,
-  But that I thought you’d want them here
-    Against the next REVIEW.”
-
-  “That’s right, that’s right,” reply’d our king,
-    “One ship I cannot spare:
-  And if the _French_ do get their sheep,
-    Why--_let them take more care_.
-
-  “Example let them take by me,
-    And they’ll receive no harm;
-  Shut them all up as I have done,
-    Upon my Windsor farm.”
-
-  So spake our gracious lord,
-    And so I end my song;
-  May heaven from _rots_ preserve his sheep,
-    And may his life be long!
-
-
-
-
-BLYTH CAMPS: _Or, the Girl I left behind Me._
-
-
-In 1795, near Blyth there was an encampment, the troops of which,
-consisting of 13 regiments of horse and foot, were reviewed on the 28th
-of August, that year, by the Duke of York, in the presence of upwards
-of 60,000 spectators.
-
-  I’m lonesome since I left BLYTH camps,
-    And o’er the moor that’s sedgy;
-  With heavy thoughts my mind is fill’d,
-    Since I parted with my Betsy:
-  Whene’er I turn to view the place,
-    The tears fall down and blind me;
-  When I think on the charming grace
-    Of her I left behind me.
-
-  The hours I remember well,
-    When first from her they mov’d me;
-  The burning flames my heart doth tell,
-    Since first she own’d she lov’d me:
-  In search of some one fair and gay,
-    Several doth remind me;
-  I know my darling loves me well,
-    Tho’ I left her behind me.
-
-  The bees shall cease to make a store,
-    The dove become a ranger:
-  The falling waters cease to roar,
-    Before I’ll ever change her.
-  Each mutual promise faithful made,
-    By her whom tears remind me;
-  I bless the hours I pass’d away
-    With her I left behind me.
-
-  My mind her image will retain,
-    Whether asleep or waking;
-  I hope to see my love again,
-    For her my heart is breaking.
-  If e’er I chance to go that way,
-    And she has not resign’d me;
-  I’ll reconcile my mind and stay
-    With her I left behind me.
-
-
-
-
-BEAUMONT’s LIGHT HORSE.
-
-
-  We march’d from the camps with our hearts full of woe,
-  On board of the transports we forc’d were to go;
-  No drums they did beat, nor no trumpets did sound,
-  In silence and sadness we trudg’d o’er the ground.
-
-  No more on our horses we’ll prance o’er the plain,
-  For they drive us away like sheep to be slain;
-  Our friends and acquaintance we leave on the shore,
-  And we’ll never be seen in Old England more.
-
-  When arm’d, on our horses away we did ride,
-  All ran to see Beaumont’s Light Horsemen parade;
-  But all these fine times are with us now all o’er,
-  For we shall return to Old England no more.
-
-  We listed for horsemen, our country to save,
-  They told us fine stories of Beaumont the brave;
-  But now he has sold us to add to his store,
-  And transported from England to come back no more.
-
-  We mounted our horses and rode through the town,
-  We hid us in holes, and our guns we laid down;
-  Now see the Newcastle folks drive away fears,
-  And now see the brav’ry of their Volunteers.
-
-  God save our noble king, and long may he reign,
-  And send him brave soldiers, his rights to maintain;
-  But do not deceive them, keep them on your shore,
-  That they may defend you ’till time is no more.
-
-  Farewell to all camps, and farewell to all towns,
-  We go off all footmen, no more like dragoons;
-  For hard is our fate, and it grieves us full sore,
-  Then farewell, dear England, we’ll see thee no more.
-
-  Farewell to our wives, and our sweethearts likewise;
-  Tho’ we’re driven to battle yet we’ll bullets despise;
-  And if its our fortune to return once again,
-  We’ll bring store of riches, and bid adieu to the main.
-
-
-
-
-_A Song in Praise of the_ KEELMEN VOLUNTEERS. On board the Lapwing
-Frigate.
-
-
-_Tune_--White Cockade.
-
-    Come fill a bumper to the brim,
-  And drink success to George our king;
-  Of France and Spain let’s not be fear’d,
-  Since our Keel Lads have volunteer’d
-  To meet the proud and daring foe,
-  And let the haughty Frenchmen know,
-  That our Keel Lads are brave and free,
-  And Neptune’s favourites will be.
-
-    Zephyr, blow your gentle gales,
-  And fill our Keel Lads’ shiv’ring sails,
-  And waft them o’er the raging sea;
-  For our defenders they will be:
-  Lo! Duncan of the Texel boasts,
-  Nelson them in the Nile did toast;
-  The British flag they’re sure to sway,
-  And Frenchmen take to Norway.
-
-    With spirits heroic and sublime,
-  Our lads are brought up on the Tyne;
-  They will our foes with sorrow fill,
-  When once they sail from Newcastle:
-  Where bullets fly and cannons roar,
-  They’ll sweep the seas from shore to shore;
-  And all the world their wonders tell:
-  Huzza, Keel Lads of Newcastle!
-
-
-
-
-THE SONS OF THE TYNE: OR, _British Volunteers_.
-
-
-_Tune_--Hearts of Oak.
-
-    Come cheer up your hearts, my brave sons of the Tyne,
-  And boldly come forward to enter the line;
-  Your country it calls you, defend now her right,
-  Against that invader, who dares you to fight.
-          Sons of Tyne all advance,
-          For to humble proud France;
-          And teach Bonaparte,
-          Tho’ ever so hearty,
-    Not t’ insult British valour upon her own shore.
-
-    The proud sons of Spain, too, like fools did attempt,
-  With a large Armada to make a descent;
-  But lord Howard convinc’d them, long ere they came near,
-  That they were not to take the wrong sow by the ear!
-          Sons of Tyne, &c.
-
-    There was bold Sidney Smith, on the Palestine shore,
-  Made the _army invincible_ lie all in gore;
-  When caught in his Mouse Trap[17] at _Acre de John_,
-  Bonaparte (then Musselman) made a sad moan.
-          Sons of Tyne, &c.
-
-    The brave Abercromby shed his last drop of blood,
-  At Alexandria, for his country’s good:
-  And shall _Corsican Tyranny_ ever come near
-  To Britannia’s shores?--No! we’ll all volunteer.
-          Sons of Tyne, &c.
-
-    He threats to invade us, and plunder us too,
-  And make us a _province_! but that will not do.
-  If he come, we will shew him a handful of men,
-  Who will take him in Trap, like Sir Sidney again.
-          Sons of Tyne, &c.
-
-    Bonaparte’s bravadoes we’ll treat with disdain,
-  Like the heroes of Britain, who rule on the main;
-  We will boldly stand forward in Britannia’s cause,
-  To protect her religion, her liberty and laws.
-          Sons of Tyne, &c.
-
-[17] The seamen call the breach made in the walls at St John de Acre,
-while Bonaparte was in Egypt, the _Commodore’s Mouse Trap_.
-
-
-
-
-MARY OF THE TYNE.
-
-
-    What pleasure oft ’tis to reveal
-  The pain or rapture which we feel;
-  ’Tis bliss while either we impart
-  Unto a sympathetic heart,
-  Just like to that sweet heart of thine,
-  My lovely Mary of the Tyne.
-
-    I lose, when near thee, all my care,
-  When from thee, I am all despair;
-  My bosom heaves with anxious pain,
-  Until I meet with thee again,
-  What are these adverse pangs of mine,
-  My lovely Mary of the Tyne?
-
-    Say, is it from thy beauteous face,
-  Or is it from thy nat’ral grace,
-  Or is it thy angelic mind,
-  Or is it ev’ry one combin’d,
-  Making one sweet form divine,
-  My lovely Mary of the Tyne?
-
-    Should it be love, thou’dst sure forgive?
-  That is the food on which I live;
-  But if thou should’st that bliss deny,
-  Then must thy faithful lover die;
-  Or linger out his life supine,
-  For lovely Mary of the Tyne!
-
-
-
-
-NEWCASTLE FAIR--October, 1811.
-
-
-_The Pitman a drinking of JACKY._ (English Gin. This liquor has various
-names in different parts of the country. At a village in the western
-part of Northumberland, the editor heard it called Blue Dick.)
-
-By J.S.
-
-_Tune_--Drops of Brandy.
-
-  Ha’ ye been at Newcastle fair,
-    And did ye see ouse o’ great Sandy?
-  Lord bliss us! what wark there was there;
-    And the folks were drinking of brandy.
-  Brandy, a shilling a glass!
-    Aw star’d, and thought it was shamful.
-  Never mind, says aw, canny lass,
-    Give us yell, and aw’ll drink ma wameful.
-                                  Rum te idily, &c.
-
-  Says she, Canny man, the yell’s cawd;
-    It comes frev a man they ca’ Mackey,
-  And my faith it’s byeth sour an’ awd;
-    Ye’d best hev a drop o’ wour jacky.
-  Your jacky! says I, now what’s that?
-    I ne’er heard the neame o’ sic liquor.
-  English gin, canny man, that’s flat.
-    And then she set up a great nicker.
-                                  Rum te idily, &c.
-
-  Says I, divent laugh at poor folks,
-    But gang and bring some o’ yur jacky;
-  Aw want neane o’ yur jibes or jokes;
-    I’ th’ mean time aw’ll tak a bit backy.
-  Aw just tuke a chew o’ pig tail,
-    She brought in this jacky se funny:
-  Says she, Sir, that’s better than ale:
-    And held out her hand for the money.
-                                  Rum te idily, &c.
-
-  There’s three pence to pay, if you please:
-    Aw star’d an’ aw gap’d like a ninny:
-  Od smash thee, aw’ll sit at ma ease,
-    An’ not stir till aw’ve spent a half guinea.
-  Aw sat an’ aw drank till quite blind,
-    Then aw’ gat up to gang to the door,
-  But deel smash a door cou’d aw find,
-    An’ fell flat o’ ma fyess on the floor.
-                                  Rum te idily, &c.
-
-  There aw lay for ever se lang,
-    And dreamt about rivers and ditches;
-  When waken’d, was singing this song--
-    “Smash, jacky, thou’s wet a’ ma breeches.”
-  An’ faith! but the sang it was true,
-    For jacky had been se prevailing,
-  He’d whistled himsel’ quickly through,
-    An’ the chairs an’ tables were sailing.
-                                  Rum te idily, &c.
-
-  Then rising, aw went ma ways heame,
-    Aw knock’d at the door, an’ cry’d, Jenny;
-  Says she, Canny man, is’te lame,
-    Or been wadin in Tyne, ma hinny?
-  I’ troth, she was like for to dee,
-    An’ just by the way to relieve her,
-  The water’s been wadin through me,
-    An’ this jacky’s a gay deceiver.
-                                  Rum te idily, &c.
-
-  If e’er aw drink jacky again,
-    May the bitch of a lass, ma adviser,
-  Loup alive down ma throat, with a stane
-    As big as a pulveriser.
-                                  Rum te idily, &c.
-
-
-
-
-THE NEWCASTLE BEAUTIES.
-
-
-These beauties must be now of some age, as they are unknown to the
-editor.
-
-_Designed to be sung to the Harpsicord or Spinet, &c._
-
-  I.
-
-  Tho’ lofty bards sublimer sing,
-    And boldly tune their lays;
-  Not less renown attends the string,
-    Which sounds to beauty’s praise.
-  Ye muses then lend me your aid,
-    Whilst I attempt to prove,
-  That in _Newcastle_ many a maid
-    Excells the queen of love.
-
-  II.
-
-  Ye bards, forbear your partial lays,
-    Ye who so lofty sing,
-  Nor longer only _Venus_ praise,
-    But here your numbers bring.
-  No more shall blinded mortals pray,
-    Or bow before her shrine;
-  No more in _Cyprus_ seek the bay,
-    But find it here on _Tyne_.
-
-  III.
-
-  First of yon throng, see _Delia_[18] shine,
-    That matchless nonpareil!
-  All eyes confess her form divine,
-    Such graces round her dwell.
-  Dame nature has herself outdone,
-    In that most beauteous fair,
-  And lavish’d all those charms on one,
-    Which thousands only share.
-
-  IV.
-
-  Next her, behold the lovely _Cloe_[19],
-    Ye gods! what killing eyes!
-  See how her charming ringlets flow,
-    Where wanton Cupid lies:
-  The rose, compar’d to her, shall fade,
-    The lily lose its white:
-  E’en Sol himself must own the maid,
-    And shine with beams less bright.
-
-  V.
-
-  Thee, lovely _Cynthia_[20], next we sing,
-    Charm’d with thy beauteous face,
-  More blooming than the verdent spring,
-    Adorn’d with ev’ry grace;
-  Thy comely shape and genteel air,
-    Our admiration raise,
-  Thou stands confess’d a perfect fair,
-    And worthy all our praise.
-
-  VI.
-
-  Thy mien, sweet _Daphne_[21], next we view,
-    And as we view, approve;
-  Thy blooming charms all hearts subdue,
-    And kindle them to love:
-  Those charming breasts, and sparkling eyes,
-    What mortal can oppose?
-  Still as we gaze, new beauties rise,
-    And still the passion grows.
-
-  VII.
-
-  Gay _Sylvia_[22] next appears in sight,
-    Surrounded by her charms,
-  Her handsome form which shines so bright,
-    Each youthful bosom warms.
-  Ye youths withdraw your wishful eyes,
-    Nor longer on her gaze;
-  For were your hearts as cold as ice,
-    Her beams would make them blaze.
-
-  VIII.
-
-  Sweet _Celia_[23] next demands our care,
-    That lovely nut-brown maid!
-  Behold her charming flowing hair,
-    In jetty locks display’d:
-  She fills each bosom with desire,
-    So graceful is her mein;
-  Her comely features all admire,
-    Where thousand loves are seen.
-
-  IX.
-
-  See _Flavia_[24], the young, the gay,
-    For graceful air renown’d,
-  Her mien more bright than flow’ry May,
-    With ev’ry beauty crown’d.
-  Her beauteous sister[25] next appears,
-    Whom wond’rous charms adorn;
-  The lovely doe each bosom chears,
-    With beauties like the morn.
-
-  X.
-
-  The next we view is _Julia’s_[26] face,
-    For comely features lov’d;
-  Her golden locks still add a grace,
-    To what all hearts approv’d.
-  Her friend no less inspires the lay,
-    The lovely _Danæ_[27] fair,
-  To whom all tongues their praises pay,
-    Charm’d with her shape and air.
-
-  XI.
-
-  Thee, _Phœbe_[28], with _Ophelia_[29] join’d,
-    We can’t too much admire,
-  Your blooming charms, it must be own’d,
-    All hearts to love inspire.
-  To handsome _Pat_[30], and lovely _Stell_[31],
-    Our praises too belong;
-  These, who in various charms excel,
-    Close up the beauteous throng.
-
-  XII.
-
-  As now ador’d you pass your bloom,
-    Your autumn you may live;
-  Let me, ye beauteous fair, presume,
-    This one advice to give;
-  Virtue pursue--or vain ye’re bright,
-    _“In vain your eyes may roll;_
-  _’Tis true that charms do strike the sight,_
-    _But merit wins the soul.”_
-
-[18] Miss P----y T----n.
-
-[19] Miss H----le.
-
-[20] Miss H----y.
-
-[21] Miss B----p.
-
-[22] Miss H----m.
-
-[23] Miss S----s.
-
-[24] Miss F----tt
-
-[25] Miss F----tt.
-
-[26] Miss H----h.
-
-[27] Miss J---- B----ll.
-
-[28] Miss P---- S----t.
-
-[29] Miss L----s.
-
-[30] Miss A----n.
-
-[31] Miss M----y G----n.
-
-
-
-
-SONG, _On the Address of the Newcastle House of Lords, on turning out
-Lord North, and Mr Fox_.
-
-
-  When Royal G----e, on new year’s day,[32]
-    Had told his bishops, great and small,
-  What our _wise Crows_, last March did say,
-    “He fear’d Britannia’s sudden fall.”
-
-  For knaves determin’d on his doom;
-    Two of the worst were _Fox_ and _North_,
-  These he displac’d, and in their room
-    Had station’d PITT, and men of worth.
-
-  T’ assuage the sovereign’s grief and care,
-    And loyal feeling to express,
-  Imperial London’s duteous mayor,
-    Approach’d the throne with an address.
-
-  Counties, and towns, and boroughs too,
-    Throng’d thick, and their addresses paid,
-  Their prince to undeceive, and shew
-    How twice ten years he’d been betray’d.
-
-  Newcastle’s mayor, to virtue form’d,
-    (_Charles_ the upright and the good;)
-  Whose hands refrain’d, and nobly scorn’d
-    To stain with _transatlantic_ blood.
-
-  A temperate zeal, he did confess,
-    Became each lover of his king;
-  Then all join’d him in an address;
-    And thousands warmly did it sign.
-
-  A band more true, (what need of words?)
-    And of all loyal men the flower;
-  I mean _Ned C----g’s house of lords_,
-    Who prais’d each minister in power.
-
-  The fancy seiz’d! each noble peer,
-    Pushing the tankard foaming o’er:
-  (O had lord _Umbrage_ but been here,
-    But we shall never see him more!)
-
-  Now fairly sat the sage divan,
-    And silence call’d to every box.
-  “Let’s thank our king, aye every man,
-    For turning out lord _North_ and _Fox_.
-
-  We must confess it’s scarce seven years,
-    Since we address’d our royal sire;
-  And beg’d he’d scorn all whiggish fears,
-    And we would help to blow the fire.
-
-  War’s flame did blaze both far and near,
-    And Europe’s powers against us join’d:
-  Our fleets were beat, our armies fled,
-    We sued for peace, and bought it dear.
-
-  It’s true the whigs, these knavish rogues
-    All cried, our mischiefs North began:
-  But what care we for barking dogs;
-    For _North_ was still _the greatest man_.
-
-  Our empire was too wide and great,
-    And too unwieldy--and what not!
-  But _North_, our tailor of the state,
-    Clip’d it, as _Umbrage_ would a coat.
-
-  A truth from which we scorn to swerve.
-    _The more we lose, the more we gain_;
-  And trade and treasures only serve,
-    To foster pride, and care, and pain.
-
-  But ah, how vain is human hope!
-    Great _North_ with spendthrift _Fox_ has join’d:
-  (For this he well deserves a rope)
-    All fair professions are but wind.
-
-  Come then, my lords, stand forth like men,
-    The good old cause keep still in view;
-  And tell the k----g we do condemn
-    Old knaves, and will support the new.”
-
-  The house then rung with loud applause,
-    Fists, pipes, and smoke, their joy express.
-  A committee resolved was
-    To word, and draw up the address.
-
-  Th’ expence, agreed by numerous votes,
-    Attending this address of thanks;
-  Was all to be paid out in notes,
-    Of Sir James Duncan’s best of banks.
-
-[32] Alluding to the king’s reply to the b----’s address, usual on the
-first day of the year, expressive of a desponding prediction, truly
-alarming.
-
-
-
-
-_THE ADDRESS_ OF SIR J. DUNCAN, AND CO. _Of the Scale de Cross Bank, to
-the Ladies, Gentlemen, and Merchants, of Newcastle upon Tyne, and its
-Environs._
-
-
-  Sir James Duncan and Co. their kind compliments send
-  To the public in general, who so befriend
-  Their laudable endeavour, your gold to exchange,
-  Yet reluctantly confess, they think it most strange
-  Their opening a Bank, shou’d be _impudent_ thought,
-  By those who are strangers to their KERECTER[33], and note,
-  And flatter themselves, the following reasons will prove
-  Their right to _be Bankers_, and objections remove.
-  The title, they presume, will command the esteem
-  Of those who at a distance, from hence, may have seen
-  Their elegant Notes; their clothes--they vow, and declare,
-  In London were made, as you may see by their air;
-  The skin on Sir _James_, is not so fit as his coat,
-  And fine Bristol beer washes his throat.
-  No Newcastle furniture their office degrades,
-  Sir _James Duncan_ employs no such bungling, vile blades,
-  As the paltry workmen, in this smokey town,
-  Whose finery often--has made us Bankers frown.
-  They are not worth an hundred thousand it’s true,
-  But supposing they were, cou’d the public, and you
-  Their friends be assured they wou’d not exceed
-  Their capital _twice_, when their paper you need,
-  And _wisely prefer_ it, to hard silver and gold,
-  Because you don’t _weigh_ it, and it’s much sooner told.
-  The notes of their brethern they will not refuse,
-  Let other bankers less _wise_, do that if they chuse;
-  The public they’ll serve, their cash take, and bills discount,
-  Except at Change hours, to any amount;
-  And when profusion and taxes, and of America the loss,
-  Old England has ruin’d--firm will stand the _Scale Cross_.
-    The critics our doggrels will sneer at, we suppose,
-  But _Strap_, who’s a GENIUS, has measur’d them, and knows,
-  Like a shoe on a last they are fit, and convey
-  Our intention completely, and it’s needless to say,
-  Newcastle, Exchange, Tyne, or Commercial Bank,[34]
-  Must yield to us in writing, as well as in rank,
-  No knight can they boast--and we his majesty thank.
-
-_Sir J. Duncan, Hide, Strap, Last, Awl, & Jacob End._
-
-SIR JAMES DUNCAN’s NOTES WERE AS FOLLOWS:--
-
-[Illustration: CRISPIN.
-
-No. 89.
-
-_I Promise to pay Mr Benj. Bulk, or Bearer on Demand the Sum of_ Two
-Pence, _Value received_. Seale de Cross Bank, NEWCASTLE, _24 Jany 1784_.
-
-_For Sir J. Duncan, Hide, Strap, Last, Awl, & Self, Jacob End._
-
-Two Pence.
-
-_Entd Jas Back, No. 89._
-
-_N.B. Our Estates liable, and Copper taken._]
-
-[33] We have observed, at a Coffee-house, that one of our brethren
-pronounces this word thus.
-
-[34] Out of these four banks, only two now remain, (1812) _i.e._, the
-Newcastle, and the Tyne.
-
-
-
-
-_AN ELEGY_, TO THE MEMORY OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD RAVENSWORTH.
-
-
-_Who died, January 30th, 1784, Aged 76._
-
-  Liddell, farewell! to all true Britons dear,
-  We mourn in heart, and shed the friendly tear:
-  Yet not for thee our eyes in tears we steep,
-  Our grief is selfish--for ourselves we weep:
-  No loss by death the worthy can sustain,
-  We are the losers--and our loss thy gain.
-  The rich have lost, by thy lamented end,
-  The _best_ of neighbours; and the poor a _friend_.
-  O RAVENSWORTH! thy hospitable door
-  Receiv’d the wealthy, and reliev’d the poor.
-  Adorn’d with ev’ry virtue, ev’ry grace
-  Which nature _e’er_ bestow’d on human race.
-  Through a long life, example bright thou shone!
-  By all belov’d:--Now each regrets thou’rt gone!
-  Thy suff’rings here were weigh’d; nor shall thy death
-  Be more than ceasing of thy mortal breath;
-  Thy Master calls, ripe for thy Master’s joy,
-  Where love and bliss, the upright mind employ.
-  Speak ye, who knew him best, what man can say,
-  That LIDDELL could the distant friend betray!
-  To friendship true, no scandal from his tongue;
-  To hurt a friend, or do his foe a wrong.
-  For truth he try’d, enquir’d, and careful sought,
-  Yet lov’d the man altho’ he diff’rent thought.
-  Who’s right! be left to that decisive day,
-  When truth’s bright beams shall shine without allay.
-  Ne’er sway’d by notions, nor to schemes confin’d,
-  His breast was open to the honest mind.
-  Whatever noble warmth could recommend,
-  The just, the active, and the constant friend;
-  Whatever great or good we can adore,
-  Center’d in him--in him alas! no more.
-  Thus love, peace, joy, with a distinguish’d grace,
-  Shone thro’ the features of his friendly face.
-  How near approaches to a life divine,
-  The man in whom the peaceful virtues shine?
-  In public charities he foremost stood,
-  And likewise private----always doing good.
-  The poor, in him, a friend was sure to find,
-  And to their wants, his purse he free resign’d.
-  Such the kind man! May we like him be wise,
-  Pursue his virtuous steps, and with him reach the prize.
-
-_T.R._
-
-
-
-
-_LINES_ ON THE DEATH OF JOHN, LORD DELAVAL; _Who died, May 17th,
-1808.--Aged 80._
-
-
-By M. Harvey.
-
-  In hollow murmurs o’er the bending reeds
-  Sorrow’s keen accents sweep across the meads;
-  And as the grief-charg’d sound moves sad along,
-  Unstrings the lute, and stills the wood nymph’s song.
-  O’er all the sad’n’d scene the mournful train,
-  In keenest anguish, join the solemn strain;
-  Whilst recollection, with tenacious power,
-  Thickens the gloom that damps the passing hour.
-  The many banner’d trump of clarion fame,
-  Sounds in full chords the blood stain’d warrior’s name,
-  Echoes to realms remote, and nations far,
-  The mighty power of man-destroying war.
-  Deadens with magic force each softer lay,
-  That throng’d the courts, and made the vallies gay:
-  While the vain phantom, honour, barbs the wand,
-  That waves destruction o’er the smiling land.
-  And ’midst the accents of her harsher lays,
-  Shall she forget to sound the good man’s praise?
-  Forbid it, every spark of social love,
-  That made, through life, his every passion move;
-  That taught his heart with sympathy to glow,
-  To stem the torrent of domestic woe.
-  Whose open hand strew’d o’er the lowly scene,
-  Plenty’s gay smiles, and joy’s delighted mien;
-  Whose presence cheer’d, with animating ray,
-  Life’s highest walks, and made the gay more gay:
-  Fitted alike to grace the lordly dome,
-  Or in the cottage make contentment bloom:
-  Thy virtues, DELAVAL, we long shall mourn,
-  And wash, with unfeign’d tears, thy hallow’d urn.
-  No laurel wreath, nor high poetic lays
-  Need bloom, or live in song to sound thy praise;
-  For whilst thy loss our keenest sorrow moves,
-  O’er all the _past_, delighted fancy roves;
-  Each fond remembrance that reverts to thee,
-  Tells what our _present_ conduct ought to be;
-  And points, with heavenward aim, to that Dread Power,
-  Whose mystic means unfolds the _future_ hour;
-  Cheers the dark gloom of life’s last setting ray,
-  And leads us on to everlasting day!
-
-
-
-
-THE WALLSEND RIFLE CORPS.
-
-
-  Of a’ the many bonny corps,
-    Which now our country nigh fill,
-  Where can ye shew me sic a corps,
-    As the bonny Wallsend Rifle?
-          The bonny Wallsend Rifle,
-          The canny Wallsend Rifle;
-        Where can ye shew me sic a corps,
-          As the bonny Wallsend Rifle?
-
-  Whe loups the dykes, an’ climbs the wa’s,
-    Then thinks it but a trifle?
-  Why, naen amang the black-breek’d chaps;
-    Naen but the Wallsend Rifle.
-                      The bonny, &c.
-
-  They’ve brav’ry aboon the een;
-    And when on Throckley High Fell,
-  Th’ Newcastle chaps dar’d not engage;
-    They tuke the Wallsend Rifle.
-                      The bonny, &c.
-
-  To see them shut, then run, then shut,
-    And then fall down or lye still:
-  O wuns! it’s better than a play,
-    The bonny Wallsend Rifle.
-                      The bonny, &c.
-
-  With bravery to kill the French,
-    Long may their bosoms high fill:
-  And long may monny on us sing--
-    The bonny Wallsend Rifle.
-                      The bonny, &c.
-
-
-
-
-SONG. _Written on the King’s Birth-day, 1808._
-
-
-_Tune_--Sons of the Tyne.
-
-  Come, haste to Newcastle, ye sons of fair Freedom,
-    You’ll there see a sight that will banish your fears;
-  A sight that would terrify Bonney, should he come,--
-    The sight I allude to’s our brave Volunteers.
-
-  Arrang’d in a row, with the brave Association;
-    The Gateshead, so gallant, are likewise in line;
-  Our Volunteers too, the defence of the nation,--
-    You likewise will see the bright Legion of Tyne.
-
-  The Sunderland too, with Artillery assemble;
-    The Shields and the Hexham with ardour appears;
-  The sight of these heroes would make Bonney tremble,
-    Could he get a peep at our brave Volunteers.
-
-  Ye fam’d Rifle corps, I must too praise your merit;
-    You’ll always be ready when glory does call;
-  The whole fir’d with freedom, with ardour and spirit,
-    When flank’d by the boys from the End of the Wall.[35]
-
-  You Patriots assembled on this grand occasion,
-    A sight that’s so noble each wounded mind cheers;
-  They’ll always be ready to repel invasion,
-    And merit the title of brave Volunteers.
-
-  May courage and candour still all your minds govern,--
-    Your zeal in the pages of history will shine;
-  Be true to your country and just to your Sovereign,
-    Ye sons of fair Freedom, of Wear and of Tyne.
-
-[35] Wallsend.
-
-
-
-
-THE TOKEN MONGER. A SONG.
-
-
-_Tune_--Erin go bragh.
-
-  The plaint of a mourner, deep sorrow oppress’d with,
-    Late, as thro’ Dean Street I pass’d, caught my ear;
-  ’Twas a poor Token Monger, who prudence unbless’d with,
-    Had receiv’d for _presumption_, a trimming severe.
-  He gaz’d on the _caution_[36] with wonder dumb founded,
-  His dear self-importance severely was wounded,
-  At such a long list of opponents confounded:
-    The _tokens_ he issued, were tokens of woe.
-
-  Ah well-a-day! said the poor Token Monger,
-    My project is scouted, my _Mint’s_ at a stand;
-  Alas! the sweet hope, I must cherish no longer,
-    Of Jehu-like driving four in hand.
-  Oh why! e’er in day dreams illusive exulting,
-  Why did I my neighbours ne’er think of consulting!
-  Now grief from their _fiat_ so hostile resulting,
-    Compels me to issue the tokens of woe!
-
-  I’ve sported rare _logic_, I’ve stuck not at _bouncing_,
-    I’ve prov’d myself rich as a _crœsus_ in _brass_;
-  I’ve amus’d the whole town with my vaunting and flouncing;
-    But vain are my labours, the _tokens_ won’t _pass_!
-  Vain too is thy friendship, dear Butterfly Billy,
-  Of all my supporters, most noisy and silly;
-  Wilt thou still take my tokens? sweet daffa-down-dilly:
-    Oh! those which I issue are tokens of woe!
-
-  Vanity whisper’d me, “John thou art clever,
-    “Thy neighbours beyond their own noses can’t see;”
-  I foolishly thought so, but never, oh never,
-    Was mortal more sadly mistaken than me.
-  Down from your windows, my friends, snatch your papers,
-  The ridicule now of all _starers_ and _gapers_;
-  Some wag I am fearful will give you the _vapours_,
-    By offering you payment in tokens of woe.
-
-  Join, O ye pay clerks, my loud lamentations,
-    Come my ill luck sympathetic deplore:
-  On discount you reckon’d, but such expectations,
-    Alas! my good friends, you must cherish no more.
-  Tokens! God help me! why, why should I make them!
-  Neither will Pitmen or Keelmen now take them;
-  E’en in their wagers, they scruple to stake them,
-    Oh! none must I issue but tokens of woe!
-
-  No more of his sorrows the muse hath recorded,
-    Tho’ tunefully still he bewail’d his sad fate;
-  For listning no longer enjoyment afforded;
-    The evening was chilly, the hour it was late.
-  Ah, thought I, as quick homeward I now was repairing,
-  ’Tis just with all _wrong-heads_, presumptious and daring,
-  In their projects, the end with the means never squaring,
-    Still baffled, they issue the tokens of woe.
-
-[36] A caution against the tokens, signed by 118 persons, was published
-26th November, 1811.
-
-
-
-
-_The following Dialogue, in bad Prose, was overheard by the Person who
-now attempts it in bad Verse._
-
-
-(December, 1811.)
-
-  “Hey, Jacky, ma honey, hae ye seen the new money,
-    The money, that’s made, mun, at Newcastle town?
-  It’s bonie an’ breet, man, an’ tho’ it’s but leet, man,
-    Folks like it sae weel, that the notes are off flown.
-
-  “I frae the chap got, man, a score for a note, man;
-    An’ smash me! I thought him a thick headed feul;
-  T’ gie siller for paper, is sure a queer caper:
-    We knaw which is better, Jack, we were at skeul.”
-
-  “But, Will, I’ve a notion, you han’t seen the caution,[37]
-    The grocer folks up i’ their windows hae put;
-  They say they’ll be broken, if they take a token;
-    An’ seun that their shops they will hae for to shut.”
-
-  “Why, Jack, sure they’re feulish, to refuse them is cullish,
-    Why siller, man’s, siller, and paper’s but rags;
-  And as lang as we knaw that, there’s nane o’ them a’ that
-    Will make us put paper stead sill i’ wor bags.
-
-  “The bank there of Surtees, ye knaw how it hurt hus;
-    And, for the five score pund I’d laid by for’t lass,
-  They’re now off’ring twenty, an thinking it plenty;
-    Tho’ years ago, Jack, I was starving for’t brass.
-
-  “An Jack i’ the raw, ye very weel knaw,
-    The loss he cam too, when his house it was brunt:
-  His kistful of paper, went up in a vapour,
-    An of his sixscore pund he heard na mair on’t.
-
-  “No, no more their notes, shall they cram down our throats,
-    When we siller can get, man, to put i’ wour kists:
-  A f----t for their signing, an cautions sae whining,
-    Let them who won’t take them, wey, do it that lists.”
-
-[37] The caution was mostly signed by the grocers of the town; it
-having been devised at their trade meeting.
-
-
-
-
-FOOTY AGAIN THE WALL.
-
-
-_A Song much sung some Years ago, by the Pitmen about Long Benton._
-
-  Fra Benton Bank, to Benton town,
-    There’s not a Pitman’s raw:
-  So when ye get to the Moor Yate,
-    Play footy again the wa’.
-            Then hie footy, and how footy,
-              And footy again the wa’;
-            And when ye get to the Moor Yate,
-              Play footy again the wa’.
-
-  The wife went down the Moor Lonnin,
-    And let her basket fa’;
-  For when she gat to the Moor Yate,
-    Play’d footy again the wa’.
-                        Then hie, &c.
-
-  The stoby road’s a stoby place,
-    And some o’ the stobs are la’;
-  But still there’s some that’s high enough,
-    For footy again the wa’.
-                        Then hie, &c.
-
-  The Holy Stone’s a holy place,
-    The trees are thick and la’;
-  But they are nought to the Moor Yate,
-    For footy again the wa’.
-                        Then hie, &c.
-
-  Wapping Square is a bonny place,
-    The houses are but sma’:
-  But in them yet there’s room enough,
-    For footy again the wa’.
-                        Then hie, &c.
-
-  The lady did not like the house,
-    For the air it was raw;
-  It was sweeter far at the Moor Yate,
-    For footy again the wa’.
-                        Then hie, &c.
-
-  Young Cuddy is a bonny lad,
-    And Robin’s tall and sma’;
-  But if you come to wour town end,
-    They’ll footy again the wa’.
-                        Then hie, &c.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURN.
-
-_Fought the 9th of August, 1388._
-
-Camden, in his Britannia, page 850, gives the following account
-of this battle:--“There happened this year, (1388) at Otterburn,
-in Northumberland, a stout engagement between the Scots and
-English:--Victory three or four times changing sides, and at last
-fixing with the Scots; for Henry Piercy, (for his youthful forwardness,
-by-named Hotspur) who commanded the English, was himself taken
-prisoner, and lost 1500 of his men; and William Douglass, the Scots
-general, fell, with the greatest part of his army; so that never was
-there a greater instance of the martial prowess of both nations.” Sir
-John Froysart (who lived at that time) gives a full account of this
-battle, and says, that it was Earl James Douglass who was the Scottish
-general. See _Eachard, Rapin, &c._
-
-From an old MSS.
-
-  Yt fell abowght the Lamasse tyde,
-    Whan husbondes wynne ther haye,
-  The dowghtye Dowglasse bowynd him to ryde,
-    In Ynglond to take a praye:
-
-  The yerlle of Fyffe, withowghten stryffe,
-    He bowynd him over Sulway:
-  The grete wolde ever together ryde,
-    That raysse they may rewe for aye.
-
-  Over ‘Ottercap’ hyll they cam in,
-    And so dowyn by Rodelyffe crage,
-  Upon Grene ‘Leyton’ they lyghted dowyn,
-    ’Styrande many a’ stage:
-
-  And boldely brente Northomberlonde,
-    And haryed many a towyn;
-  They dyd owr Ynglysh men grete wrange,
-    To battell that were not bowyn.
-
-  Than spake a berne upon the bent,
-    Of comforte that was not colde,
-  And sayd, we have brente Northomberlonde,
-    We have all welth in holde.
-
-  Now we have haryed all Bamboroweschyre,
-    All the welth in the worlde have wee,
-  I rede we ryde to Newe Castell,
-    So styll and stalwurthlye.
-
-  Upon the morrowe, when it was day,
-    The standerdes schone fulle bryght;
-  To the Newe Castell the toke the waye,
-    And thether they cam fulle ryght.
-
-  Syr Henry Perssye laye at the Newe Castell,[38]
-    I tell yow withowtten drede;
-  He had byn a march-man all hys dayes,
-    And kept Barwyke upon Twede.
-
-  To the Newe Castell when they cam,
-    The Skottes they cryde on hyght,
-  Syr Harye Perssye, and thow byste within,
-    Com to the fylde, and fyght:
-
-  For we have brente Northomberlonde,
-    Thy erytage good and ryght;
-  And syne my logeyng I have take,
-    With my brande dubbyd many a knyght.
-
-  Syr Harye Perssye cam to the walles,
-    The Skottysh oste for to se;
-  And sayd, And thou hast brente Northomberlonde,
-    Full sore it rewyeth me.
-
-  Yf thow hast haryed all Bamboroweschyre,
-    Thow hast done me grete envye;
-  For the trespasse thow hast me done,
-    The tone of us schall dye.
-
-  Where schall I byde the, sayd the Dowglasse,
-    Or where wylte thow com to me?
-  “At Otterborne in the hygh way,
-    Ther mast thow well looged be.
-
-  The roo full rekeless ther sche runnes,
-    To make the game and glee:
-  The fawken and the fesaunt both,
-    Among the holtes on hye.
-
-  Ther mast thow have thy welth at wyll,
-    Well looged ther mast be;
-  Yt schall not be long, or I com the tyll,”
-    Sayd syr Harye Perssye.
-
-  Ther schall I byde the, said the Dowglasse,
-    By the fayth of my bodye.
-  Thether schall I com, sayd syr Harye Perssye;
-    My trowth I plyght to the.
-
-  A pype of wyne he gave them over the walles,
-    For soth, as I yow saye,
-  Ther he myed the Dowglasse drynke,
-    And all hys ost that daye.
-
-  The Dowglasse turnyd hym homewarde agayne,
-    For soth withowghten naye,
-  He took hys logeynge at Otterborne
-    Upon a Wedynsday:
-
-  And ther he pyght hys standerd dowyn,
-    Hys gettyng more and lesse,
-  And syne he warned hys men to goo,
-    To chose ther geldynges gresse.
-
-  A Skottyshe knyght hoved upon the bent,
-    A wache I dare well saye:
-  So was he ware on the noble Perssy,
-    In the dawnyng of the daye.
-
-  He prycked to his pavyleon dore,
-    As fast as he myght ronne,
-  Awaken, Dowglasse, cryed the knyght,
-    For hys love that syttes in trone.
-
-  Awaken, Dowglasse, cryed the knyght,
-    For thow maste waken wyth wynne;
-  Yender have I spyed the prowde Perssye,
-    And seven standardes wyth hym.
-
-  Nay, by my trowth, the Dowglasse sayed,
-    Yt ys but a fayned taylle:
-  He durst not loke on my brede banner,
-    For all Ynglonde so haylle.
-
-  Was I not yesterdaye at the Newe Castell,
-    That stondes so fayre on Tyne?
-  For all the men the Perssye had,
-    He cowde not garr me ones to dyne.
-
-  He stepped owt at hys pavelyon dore,
-    To loke and yt were lesse;
-  “Araye yow, lordynges, one and all,
-    For here bygynnes no peysse.
-
-  The yerlle of Mentaye, thow art my erne,
-    The fowarde I gyve to thee:
-  The yerlle of Huntley cawte and kene,
-    He schall ‘wyth the be.’
-
-  The lorde of Bowghan in armure bryght,
-    On the other hand he schall be:
-  Lorde Jhonstone, and lorde Maxwell,
-    They to schall be wyth me.
-
-  Swynton fayre fylde upon your pryde,
-    To batell make yow bowen:
-  Syr Davy Skotte, syr Water Stewarde,
-    Syr Jhon of Agurstone.”
-
-[38] The Scots, in this inroad, lay before Newcastle three days, where
-there was an almost continual skirmish. Sir Henry Percy, (with his
-brother, had come to Newcastle, on the intelligence of the Scots being
-abroad) in one of these skirmishes, lost his pennon or standard; and
-pledging himself to redeem it, followed the Scots to Otterburn, where
-the battle took place. See _Freysart’s Chronicles_.
-
-
-
-
-_A FYTTE._
-
-
-  The Perssye came byfore hys oste,
-    Whych was ever a gentyll knyght,
-  Upon the Dowglasse lowde can he crye,
-    I wyll holde that I have hyght:
-
-  For thou haste brente Northomberlonde,
-    And done me grete envye;
-  For thys trespasse thow haste me done,
-    The tone of us schall dye.
-
-  The Dowglasse answerde him agayne,
-    With grete wurdes upon hye,
-  And sayd, I have twenty agaynst ‘thy’ one.
-    Byholde and thow maste see.
-
-  Wyth that the Perssye was grevyd sore,
-    For soth, as I yow saye:
-  He lyghted dowyn upon hys foote,
-    And schoote his horsse clene away.
-
-  Every man sawe that he dyd soo,
-    That rall was ever in rowght;
-  Every man schoote hys horsse hym froo,
-    And lyght hym rowynde abowght.
-
-  This syr Harye Perssye toke the fylde,
-    For soth, as I yow saye:
-  Jesu Cryste in heven on hyght
-    Dyd helpe hym well that daye.
-
-  But nyne thowsande, ther was no moo;
-    The cronykle wyll not layne:
-  Forty thowsande Skottes and fowre
-    That day fowght them agayne.
-
-  But when the battell byganne to joyne,
-    In hast ther cam a knyght,
-  The letters fayr furth hath he tayne,
-    And thus he sayd full ryght:
-
-  My lorde, your father he gretes yow well,
-    Wyth many a noble knyght;
-  He desyres yow to byde
-    That he may see thys fyght.
-
-  The baron of Grastoke ys com owt of the west,
-    Wyth hym a noble companye;
-  All they loge at your fathers thys nyght,
-    And the battell fayne wolde they see.
-
-  For Jesus love, sayd syr Harye Perssye,
-    That dyed for yow and me,
-  Wende to my lorde my father agayne,
-    And saye thow sawe me not wyth yee.
-
-  My trowth ys plyght to yonne Skottysh knyght,
-    Yt nedes me not to layne,
-  That I schulde byde hym upon thys bent,
-    And I have hys trowth agayne:
-
-  And yf that I wynde off thys growende,
-    For soth onfowghten awaye,
-  He wolde me call but a kowarde knyght
-    Yn hys londe another daye.
-
-  Yet had I lever to be rynde and rente,
-    By Mary that mykell maye,
-  Then ever my manhood schulde be reprovyd,
-    Wyth a Skotte another daye.
-
-  Wherfore, schote, archars, for my sake,
-    And let scharpe arowes flee:
-  Mynstrells, playe up for your waryson,
-    And well quyt yt schall be.
-
-  Every man thynke on hys trewe love,
-    And marke hym to the Trenite:
-  For to God I make myne avowe
-    This daye wyll I not fle.
-
-  The blodye harte yn the Dowglas armes,[39]
-    Hys standerde stode on hye;
-  That every man myght full well knowe,
-    By syde stode starres thre.
-
-  The whyte lyon on the Ynglyssh perte,
-    Forsoth as I yow sayne;
-  The lucettes and the ‘cressawntes’ both;
-    The Skottes fowght them agayne.
-
-  Upon sent Andrewe lowde can they crye,
-    And thrysse they schowte on ayght,
-  And syne marked them one owr Ynglysshe men,
-    As I have tolde yow ryght.
-
-  Sent George the bryght, owr ladyes knyght,
-    To name they were full fayne;
-  Owr Ynglisshe men they cryde on hyght,
-    And thrysse the schowtte agayne.
-
-  Wyth that scharpe arowes bygan to flee,
-    I tell yow in sertayne;
-  Men of armes byganne to joyne;
-    Many a dowghty man was ther slayne.
-
-  The Perssye and the Dowglas mette,
-    That ather of other was fayne;
-  They ‘swapped’ together whyll that the swette,
-    Wyth swordes of fine collayne;
-
-  Tyll the bloode from ther bassonettes ranne,
-    As the roke doth in the rayne.
-  Yelde the to me, sayd the Dowglas,
-    Or ellse thow schalt be slayne:
-
-  For I see, by thy bryght bassonet,
-    Thow arte sum man of myght;
-  And so I do by thy burnysshed brande,
-    Thow art an yerle, or elles a knyght.
-
-  By my good faythe, sayd the noble Perssye,
-    Now haste thou rede full ryght,
-  Yet wyll I never yelde me to the,
-    Whyll I may stonde and fyght.
-
-  They swapped together, whyll that they swette,
-    Wyth swordes scharpe and long;
-  Ych on other so faste thee beette,
-    Tyll ther helmes cam in peyses dowyn.
-
-  The Perssye was a man of strength,
-    I tell yow in thys stounde,
-  He smote the Dowglas at the swordes length,
-    That he felle to the growynde.
-
-  The sworde was scharpe and sore can byte,
-    I tell yow in sertayne;
-  To the harte he cowde him smyte,
-    Thus was the Dowglas slayne.
-
-  The stonderdes stode styll on ‘elke’ asyde,
-    Wyth many a grevous grone;
-  Ther the fowght the daye, and all the nyght,
-    And many a dowghty man was slayne.
-
-  Ther was no freke that ther wolde flye,
-    But styffely in stowre can stond,
-  Ych one hewyng on other whyll they myght drye,
-    Wyth many a bayllefull bronde.
-
-  Ther was slayne upon the Skottes syde,
-    For soth and sertenly,
-  Syr James a Dowglas ther was slayne,
-    That daye that he cowde dye.
-
-  The yerlle of Mentaye he was slayne.
-    Grysely groned uppon the growynd;
-  Syr Davy Skotte, syr Water Stewarde,
-    Syr Jhon of Agurstonne.
-
-  Syr Charlles Morrey in that place,
-    That never a fote wold flee;
-  Syr Hugh Maxwell, a lorde he was,
-    Wyth the Dowglasse dyd he dye.
-
-  Ther was slayne upon the Skottes syde,
-    For soth as I yow saye,
-  For fowre and forty thowsande Skottes
-    Went but eyghtene awaye.
-
-  Ther was slayne upon the Ynglysshe syde,
-    For soth and sertenlye,
-  A gentyll knyght, syr Jhon ‘Fitzhewe,’
-    Yt was the more pety.
-
-  Syr James Harebotell ther was slayne,
-    For hym ther hartes were sore,
-  The gentyll ‘Lovell’ ther was slayne,
-    That the Perssye’s standerd bore.
-
-  Ther was slayne upon the Ynglysshe perte,
-    For soth as I yow saye;
-  Of nyne thowsande Ynglysshe men,
-    Fyve hondert cam awaye:
-
-  The other were slayne in the fylde,
-    Cryste kepe ther sowlles from wo,
-  Seying ther was so fewe fryndes
-    Agaynst so many a foo.
-
-  Then on the morne they mayde them beerys
-    Of byrch, and haysell graye;
-  Many a widowe wyth wepyng teyres
-    Ther makes they fette awaye.
-
-  Thys fraye bygan at Otterborne
-    Bytwene the nyghte and the daye;
-  Ther the Dowglas lost hys lyffe,
-    And the Perssye was lede awaye.
-
-  Then was ther a Scottysh prysoner tayne,
-    Syr Hewe Montgomery was hys name,
-  For soth as I yow saye,
-    He borrowed the Perssye home agayne.
-
-  Now let us all for the Perssye praye,
-    To Jesu most of myght,
-  To bryng hys sowlle to the blysse of heven,
-    For he was a gentyll knyght.
-
-[39] The armorial ensigns of Douglas were Argent, a Man’s Heart, Gules,
-and on a chief Azure three stars of the first.
-
-
-
-
-THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE.
-
-
-  It fell and about the Lammas time,
-    When husband men do win their hay,
-  Earl DOUGLAS is to the English woods,
-    And a’ with him to fetch a prey.
-
-  He has chosen the LINDSAYS light,
-    With them the gallant GORDONS gay,
-  And the Earl of FYFE withouten strife,
-    And Sir HUGH MONTGOMERY upon a grey.
-
-  They hae taken Northumberland,
-    And sae hae they the North-shire,
-  And the Otter-dale they burnt it hale,
-    And set it a’ into a fire.
-
-  Out then spack a bonny boy,
-    That serv’d ane o’ Earl DOUGLAS’ kin;
-  Methinks I see an English host
-    A-coming branken us upon.
-
-  If this be true, my little boy,
-    An it be troth that thou tells me,
-  The brawest bower in Otterbourne,
-    This day shall be thy morning fee.
-
-  But if it be false, my little boy,
-    And but a lie that thou tells me;
-  On the highest tree that’s in Otterbourne,
-    With my awin hands I’ll hing thee hie.
-
-  The boy’s taen out his little penknife,
-    That hanget low down by his gare,
-  And he gae Earl DOUGLAS a deadly wound,
-    Alack! a deep wound and a sare.
-
-  Earl DOUGLAS said to Sir HUGH MONTGOMERY,
-    Tack thou the vanguard o’ the three;
-  And bury me at yon braken bush,
-    That stands upon yon lilly lee.
-
-  Then PERCY and MONTGOMERY met,
-    And weel a wat they war na fain;
-  They swapped swords, and they twa swat,
-    And ay the blood ran down between.
-
-  O yield thee, yield thee, PERCY, he said,
-    Or else I vow I’ll lay thee low.
-  Whom to shall I yield? said Earl PERCY;
-    Now that I see it maun be so.
-
-  O yield thee to yon braken bush,
-      That grows upon yon lilly lee.
-  As in that bush a bier there be,
-      For it I’d save thy life and thee.
-
-  I winna yield to a braken bush,
-      Nor yet will I unto a bier;
-  But I wad yield to Earl DOUGLAS,
-      Or Sir HUGH MONTGOMERY, if he was here.
-
-  As soon as he knew it was MONTGOMERY,
-      He stuck his sword’s point in the ground:
-  And Sir HUGH MONTGOMERY was a courteous knight,
-      And he quickly brought him by the hand.
-
-  The deed was done at Otterbourne,
-      About the breaking o’ the day.
-  Earl DOUGLAS was buried at the braken bush,
-      And PERCY led captive away.
-
-
-
-
-THE HUNTING OF THE CHYVIAT.
-
-
-Percy says this old ballad was wrote by one _Richard Sbeale_, about
-the time of Henry VI. in whose reign several James’s were kings of
-Scotland. _See his Notes on this Poem._
-
-  The Persé owt off Northomberlonde,
-    And a vowe to God mayd he,
-  That he wold hunte in the mountayns
-    Of Chyviat within dayes thre;
-  In the magger of doughté Dogles,
-    And all that ever with him be.
-
-  The fattiste hartes in all Chyviat,
-    He sayd he wold kyll, and cary them away.
-  By my feth, sayd the doughté Doglas agayn,
-    I wyll let that hontyng yf that I may.
-
-  Then the Persé owt of Bamborowe cam,
-    With him a myghtee meany;
-  With fifteen hondrith archares bold, off blood and bone,
-    The wear chosen owt of shayrs thre.
-
-  This beganne on a Monday at morn,
-    In Chyviat the hillys so he;
-  The chyld may rue that ys unborn,
-    It was the mor pitté.
-
-  The dryvers thorowe the woodes went
-    For to reas the deare;
-  Bomen byckarte uppone the bent
-    With ther browd aras cleare.
-
-  Then the wyld thorowe the woodes went
-    On every syde shear;
-  Grea hondes thorowe the grevis glent
-    For to kyll thear dear.
-
-  The beganne in Chyviat the hyls above,
-    Yerly on a sonny’tn day;
-  Be that it drewe to the oware off none
-    A hondrith fat hartes ded ther lay.
-
-  The blewe a mort uppone the bent,
-    The semblyd on sydes shear;
-  To the quyrry then the Persé went
-    To se the bryttlynge off the deare.
-
-  He sayd, It was the Doglas promys
-    This day to met me hear;
-  But I wyste he wold faylle verament:
-    A great oath the Persé swear.
-
-  At the last a squyar of ‘Northomberlonde,’
-    Lookyde at his hande full ny,
-  He was war ath the doughetie Doglas commynge,
-    With him a myghtté meany.
-
-  Both with spear, byll, and brande:
-    Yt was a myghti sight to se,
-  Hardyar men both off harte nar hande
-    Wear not in Christiantè.
-
-  The wear twenty hondrith spear-men good,
-    Withowte any feale;
-  The wear borne along be the watter a Twyde,
-    Yth bowndes of Tividale.
-
-  Leave off the brytlyng of the deare, he sayde,
-    And to your bowys lock ye tayk good heed;
-  For never sithe ye wear on your mothars borne
-    Had ye never so mickle ned.
-
-  The dougheti Dogglas on a stede
-    He rode all his men beforne;
-  His armor glytteryde as dyd a glede;
-    A bolder barne was never born.
-
-  Tell me ‘what’ men ye ar, he says,
-    Or whos men that ye be:
-  Who gave youe leave to hunte in this
-    Chyviat chays in the spyt of me?
-
-  The first mane that ever him an answear mayd,
-    It was the good lord Persé:
-  We wyll not tell the ‘what’ men we ar, he says,
-    Nor whos men that we be;
-  But we will hount hear in this chays
-    In the spyt of thyne and of the.
-
-  The fattiste hartes in all Chyviat
-    We have kyld, and cast to carry them away.
-  Be my troth, sayd the doughté ‘Dogglas’ agayn,
-    Ther for the ton of us shall de this day.
-
-  Then sayd the doughté Dogglas,
-    Unto the lord Persé:
-  To kyll all these giltles men,
-    Alas! it wear great pitté.
-
-  But, Persé, thowe art a lorde of lande,
-    I am a yerle callyd within my contrè;
-  Let all our men uppone a parti stande;
-    And do the battell off the and of me.
-
-  Now Cristes cors on his crowne, sayd the lord Persé,
-    Who soever ther to says nay.
-  Be my troth, doughté Doglas, he says,
-    Thow shalt never se that day;
-
-  Nethar in Ynglonde, Skottlonde, nar France,
-    Nor for no man of a woman born,
-  But and fortune be my chance,
-    I dar met him on man for on.
-
-  Then bespayke a squyar of Northombarlonde,
-    Ric. Wytheryngton was his nam;
-  It shall never be tolde in Sothe Ynglonde, he says,
-    To kyng Herry the fourth for sham.
-
-  I wat youe byn great lordes twaw,
-    I am a poor squyar of lande;
-  I wyll never se my captayne fyght on a fylde,
-    And stande myselffe, and loocke on,
-  But whyll I may my weppone welde
-    I wyll not [fayl] bothe harte and hande.
-
-  That day, that day, that dredfull day,
-    The first fit here I fynde:
-  And youe wyll here any mor athe hountyng athe Chyviat,
-    Yet ys ther more behynd.
-
-
-(_FIT THE SECOND._)
-
-  The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent,
-    Ther hartes were good yenoughe;
-  The first off arros that the shote off,
-    Seven skore spear-men the sloughe.
-
-  Yet byddys the yerle Doglas uppon the bent,
-    A captayne good yenoughe,
-  And that was sene verament,
-    For he wrought them hom both woo and wouche.
-
-  The Doglas pertyd his ost in thre,
-    Lyk a cheffe cheften off pryde,
-  With suar speares off myghtté tre,
-    The cum in on every syde.
-
-  Thrugke our Yngglyshe archery
-    Gave many a wounde full wyde;
-  Many a doughete the garde to dy,
-    Which ganyde them no pryde.
-
-  The Yngglyshe men let thear ‘bowys’ be.
-    And pulde owt brandes that wer bright;
-  It was a hevy syght to se
-    Bryght swordes on basnites lyght.
-
-  Thorowe ryche male, and myne-ye-ple,
-    Many sterne the stroke done streght:
-  Many a freyke, that was full fre,
-    Ther undar foot dyd lyght.
-
-  At last the Doglas and the Persé met,
-    Lyk to captayns of myght and of mayne;
-  The swapte togethar tyll the both swat
-    With swordes that wear of fyn myllan.
-
-  Thes worthé freckys for to fyght
-    Ther to the wear full fayne,
-  Tyll the bloode owte off thear basnetes sprente,
-    As ever dyd heal or ran.
-
-  ‘Holde’ the, Persé, sayd the Doglas,
-    And i feth I shall the brynge,
-  Wher thowe shalte have a yerls wagis
-    Of Jamy our ‘Scottish’ kynge.
-
-  Thoue shalte have thy ransom fre,
-    I hight the hear this thinge;
-  For the manfullyste man yet art thowe,
-    That ever I conqueryd in filde fightyng.
-
-  Nay, sayd the lorde Persé,
-    I tolde it the beforne,
-  That I wolde never yeldyde be
-    To no man of a woman born.
-
-  With that ther cam an arrowe hastely
-    Forthe off a myghtté wane,
-  Hit hathe strekene the yerle Doglas
-    In at the brest bane.
-
-  Thoroue lyvar and longs bathe
-    The sharpe arrowe ys gane,
-  That never after in all his lyffe days
-    He spayke mo wordes but ane,
-  That was, Fyghte ye, my myrry men, whyllys ye may,
-    For my lyff days ben gan.
-
-  The Persé leanyde on his brande,
-    And sawe the Doglas de;
-  He tooke the dede mane be the hande,
-    And sayd, Wo ys me for the!
-
-  To have savyde thy lyffe I wold have pertyde with
-    My landes for years thre;
-  For a better man of hart, nare of hande,
-    Was not in all the north contrè.
-
-  Off all that se a Skottishe knyght,
-    Was callyd sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry,
-  He sawe the Doglas to the deth was dyght;
-    He spendyd a spear a trusti tre:
-
-  He rod uppon a corsiare
-    Throughe a hondrith archery;
-  He never stynttyde, nar never blane,
-    Tyll he cam to the good lorde Persé.
-
-  He set uppone the lorde Persé
-    A dynte that was full soare;
-  With a suar spear of a myghtté tre
-    Clean thorow the body he the Persé ‘bore.’
-
-  Athe tothar syde, that a man myght se,
-    A large cloth yard and mare;
-  Towe bettar captayns wear nat in Cristiantè,
-    Then that day slain wear ther.
-
-  An archar of Northomberlonde
-    Say slean was the lord Persé,
-  He bar a bende bow in his hand,
-    Was made off trusti tre:
-
-  An arow, that a cloth yarde was lang,
-    Toth hard stele hayld he;
-  A dynt that was both sad and soar,
-    He sat on sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry.
-
-  The dynt yt was both sad and sar,
-    That he of Monggonbyrry sete;
-  The swane-fethars, that his arrowe bar,
-    With his hart blood the wear wete.
-
-  Ther was never a freake wone foot wolde fle,
-    But still in stour dyd stand,
-  Heawyng on yche othar, whyll the myght dre,
-    With many a balfull brande.
-
-  This battell begane in Chyviat,[40]
-    And owar before the none,
-  And when even-song bell was rang,
-    The battell was nat haff done.
-
-  The tooke on ethar hand,
-    Be the lyght off the mone;
-  Many had no strength for to stande,
-    In Chyviat the hillys abone.
-
-  Of fifteen hondrith archars of Ynglonde
-    Went away but fifti and thre;
-  Of twenty hondrith spear-men of Skotlonde,
-    But even five and fifti.[41]
-
-  But all wear slayne Chyviat within:
-    The had no strengthe to stand on hy:
-  The chylde may rue that ys unborne,
-    It was the mor pitté.
-
-  Thear was slayne with the lord Persé,
-    Sir John of Agerstone,
-  Sir Rogar the hinde Hartly,
-    Sir Wyllyam the bolde Hearone.
-
-  Sir Jorg the worthé Lovele,
-    A knyght of great renowen,
-  Sir Raff the ryche Rugbè,
-    With dyntes wear beaten dowene.
-
-  For Wetharrynton my harte was wo,
-    That ever he slayne shulde be;
-  For when both his leggis wear hewyne in to,
-    Yet he knyled and fought on his kny.
-
-  Ther was slayne with the doughti Doglas,
-    Sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry,
-  Sir Davy Lwdale that worthè was,
-    His sisters son was he.
-
-  Sir Charles a Murrè, in that place,
-    That never a foot wolde fle;
-  Sir Hewe Maxwell, a lorde he was,
-    With the Doglas dyd he dey.
-
-  So on the morrowe the mayde them byears
-    Off birch, and hasell so gray;
-  Many wedous, with wepyng tears,
-    Cam to fach ther makys away.
-
-  Tivydale may carpe off care,
-    Northombarlonde may mayke great mon,
-  For towe such captayns, as slayne wear thear,
-    On the march perti shall never be non.
-
-  Word ys commyn to Eddenburrowe
-    To Jamy the Skottishe kyng,
-  That dougheti Doglas, lyff tenante of the merches,
-    He lay slean Chyviot within.
-
-  His handdes dyd he weal and wryng,
-    He says, Alas, and woe ys me!
-  Such another captayn Skotland within,
-    He sayd, yefeth shuld never be.
-
-  Worde ys commyn to lovly Londone
-    Till the fourth Harry our kyng,
-  That lord Persé, ‘leyff’-tenante of the merchis,
-    He lay slayne Chyviat within.
-
-  God have merci on his soll, sayd kyng Harry,
-    Good lord, yf thy will it be!
-  I have a hondrith captayns in Ynglonde, he sayd,
-    As good as ever was he:
-  But, Persé, and I brook my lyffe,
-    Thy deth well quyte shall be.
-
-  As our noble kyng made his avowe,
-    Lyke a noble prince of renowen,
-  For the deth of the lord Persé,
-    He dyde the battel of Hombyll-down:[42]
-
-  Wher syx and thritté Skottish knyghtes
-    On a day wear beaten down:
-  Glendale glytteryde on ther armor bryght,
-    Over castill, towar, and town.
-
-  This was the hontynge off the Chyviat;
-    That tear begane this spurn:
-  Old men, that knowen the grownde well yenoughe,
-    Call it the battell of Otterburn.
-
-  At Otterburn began this spurne
-    Uppon a Monnyn day:
-  Ther was the doughté Doglas slean,
-    The Persé never went away.
-
-  Ther was never a tym on the march partes,
-    Sen the Doglas and the Persé met,
-  But yt was mervele, and the rede blude ronne not,
-    As the reane doys in the stret.
-
-  Jhesue Crist our balys bete,
-    And to the blys us brynge!
-  Thus was the hountynge of the Chyviat;
-    God send us all good endyng!
-
-[40] The Cheviot, or Tiviot Hills, were formerly the boundary between
-England and Scotland.
-
-[41] The English were the first who took the field, and the last to
-quit it. They brought only 1500 to the battle; and the Scotch 2000. The
-English kept the field with 53; the Scotch retiring with 55.
-
-[42] The battle of Hombyll-down, or Humbledon, (a village near Wooler,
-in Northumberland) was fought September 14th, 1402, (anno 3, Hen. IV.)
-where the English, under the command of the Earl of Northumberland, and
-his son Hotspur, gained a complete victory over the Scots.
-
-
-
-
-THE HUNTING IN CHEVY CHASE.
-
-
-This favourite old ballad is founded on the celebrated battle of
-Otterbourne, as there never was a Percy engaged with a Douglas, but at
-that time; though the Percy, who commanded at that battle, was not earl
-of Northumberland, yet he was heir to that title, though he did not
-live to enjoy it. Ben Johnson used to say, he had rather have been the
-author of this ballad than of all his works. Sir Philip Sydney says,
-(in his Discourse of Poetry) “I never heard the old song of Piercy and
-Douglas, that I found not my heart more moved than with a trumpet;
-and yet it is sung by some blind crouder, with no rougher voice than
-rude style; which being so evil apparelled in the dust and cobweb of
-that uncivil age, what would it work trimmed in the gorgeous eloquence
-of Pindar?” Addison eulogizes it highly in Nos. 70 and 74 of the
-Spectator. And in the second volume of Dryden’s Miscellanies, there may
-be found a translation of Chevy Chase into Latin Rhymes, by Henry Bold,
-of New College.
-
-  God prosper long our noble king,
-    Our lives and safeties all;
-  A woeful hunting once there did
-    In Chevy Chase befall.
-
-  To drive the deer with hound and horn,
-    Earl Percy took his way;
-  The child may rue that is unborn
-    The hunting of that day.
-
-  The stout earl of Northumberland
-    A vow to God did make,
-  His pleasure in the Scottish woods
-    Three summer’s days to take;
-
-  The chiefest harts in Chevy Chase
-    To kill and bear away:
-  These tidings to earl Douglas came,
-    In Scotland where he lay;
-
-  Who sent earl Percy present word,
-    He would prevent his sport:
-  The English earl, not fearing this,
-    Did to the woods resort,
-
-  With fifteen hundred bowmen bold;
-    All chosen men of might,
-  Who knew full well, in time of need,
-    To aim their shafts aright.
-
-  The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran,
-    To chase the fallow-deer;
-  On Monday they began to hunt,
-    When day-light did appear;
-
-  And, long before high-noon, they had
-    A hundred fat bucks slain;
-  Then, having din’d, the drovers went
-    To rouse them up again.
-
-  The bowmen muster’d on the hills,
-    Well able to endure;
-  Their backsides all, with special care,
-    That day were guarded sure.
-
-  The hounds ran swiftly through the woods,
-    The nimble deer to take,
-  And with their cries the hills and dales
-    An echo shrill did make.
-
-  Lord Percy to the quarry went,
-    To view the slaughter’d deer;
-  Quoth he, Earl Douglas promised,
-    This day to meet me here:
-
-  If that I thought he would not come,
-    No longer would I stay.
-  With that a brave young gentleman
-    Thus to the earl did say:
-
-  Lo! yonder doth earl Douglas come,
-    His men in armour bright;
-  Full twenty hundred Scottish spears
-    All marching in our sight;
-
-  All men of pleasant Tividale,
-    Fast by the river Tweed.
-  Then cease your sport, earl Percy said,
-    And take your bows with speed.
-
-  And now with me, my countrymen,
-    Your courage forth advance;
-  For never was there champion yet,
-    In Scotland or in France,
-
-  That ever did on horseback come,
-    But if mayhap it were,
-  I durst adventure, man for man,
-    With him to break a spear.
-
-  Earl Douglas, on a milk-white steed,
-    Most like a baron bold,
-  Rode foremost of the company,
-    Whose armour shone like gold.
-
-  Show me, said he, whose men you be,
-    That hunt so boldly here;
-  That, without my consent, do chase,
-    And kill my fallow deer.
-
-  The man that first did answer make,
-    Was noble Percy, he;
-  Who said, We list not to declare,
-    Nor show whose men we be:
-
-  Yet we will spend our dearest blood,
-    Thy chiefest hearts to slay.
-  Then Douglas swore a solemn oath,
-    And thus in rage did say:
-
-  Ere thus I will outbraved be,
-    One of us two shall die;
-  I know thee well, an earl thou art,
-    Lord Percy, so am I.
-
-  But trust me, Percy, pity it were,
-    And great offence to kill
-  Any of these our harmless men,
-    For they have done no ill.
-
-  Let thou and I the battle try,
-    And set our men aside.
-  Accurs’d be he, lord Percy said,
-    By whom this is deny’d.
-
-  Then stepp’d a gallant ’squire forth,
-    Witherington was his name,
-  Who said, I would not have it told
-    To Henry our king, for shame,
-
-  That e’er my captain fought on foot,
-    And I stood looking on:
-  You be two earls, said Witherington,
-    And I a squire alone:
-
-  I’ll do the best that do I may,
-    While I have strength to stand;
-  While I have pow’r to wield my sword,
-    I’ll fight with heart and hand.
-
-  Our English archers bent their bows,
-    Their hearts were good and true;
-  At the first flight of arrows sent,
-    Full three-score Scots they slew.
-
-  To drive the deer with hound and horn
-    Earl Douglas had the bent;
-  A captain mov’d with mickle pride,
-    The spears to shivers sent.
-
-  They clos’d full fast on every side,
-    No slackness there was found;
-  And many a gallant gentleman
-    Lay gasping on the ground.
-
-  O Christ! it was a grief to see,
-    And likewise for to hear
-  The cries of men lying in their gore,
-    And scatter’d here and there.
-
-  At last these two stout earls did meet,
-    Like captains of great might;
-  Like lions mov’d, they laid on load,
-    And made a cruel fight.
-
-  They fought until they both did sweat,
-    With swords of temper’d steel;
-  Until the blood, like drops of rain,
-    They trickling down did feel.
-
-  Yield thee, lord Percy, Douglas said,
-    In faith I will thee bring,
-  Where thou shall high advanced be,
-    By James our Scotish king:
-
-  Thy ransom I will freely give,
-    And thus report of thee,
-  Thou art the most courageous knight
-    That ever I did see.
-
-  No, Douglas, quoth earl Percy then,
-    Thy proffer I do scorn;
-  I will not yield to any Scot
-    That ever yet was born.
-
-  With that there came an arrow keen,
-    Out of an English bow,
-  Which struck earl Douglas to the heart,
-    A deep and deadly blow:
-
-  Who never spoke more words than these,
-    “Fight on my merry men all;
-  For why, my life is at an end,
-    Lord Percy sees my fall.”
-
-  Then leaving life, earl Percy took
-    The dead man by the hand,
-  And said, “Earl Douglas, for thy life
-    Would I had lost my land!
-
-  O Christ! my very heart doth bleed,
-    With sorrow for thy sake;
-  For sure a more renowned knight
-    Mischance did never take.”
-
-  A knight amongst the Scots there was,
-    Which saw earl Douglas die,
-  Who straight in wrath did vow revenge
-    Upon the earl Percy:
-
-  Sir Hugh Montgomery was he call’d;
-    Who with a spear most bright,
-  Well mounted on a gallant steed,
-    Ran fiercely through the fight;
-
-  And pass’d the English archers all,
-    Without all dread or fear;
-  And through earl Percy’s body then
-    He thrust his hateful spear:
-
-  With such a vehement force and might
-    He did his body gore,
-  The spear went through the other side
-    A large cloth-yard, and more.
-
-  So thus did both these nobles die,
-    Whose courage none could stain:
-  An English archer then perceiv’d
-    The noble earl was slain:
-
-  He had a bow bent in his hand,
-    Made of a trusty tree;
-  An arrow of a cloth-yard long
-    Up to the head drew he:
-
-  Against sir Hugh Montgomery,
-    So right the shaft he set,
-  The grey-goose-wing that was thereon
-    In his heart-blood was wet.
-
-  This fight did last from break of day
-    Till setting of the sun;
-  For when they rung the evening-bell
-    The battle scarce was done.
-
-  With the earl Percy there was slain
-    Sir John of Ogerton,
-  Sir Robert Radclyffe, and sir John,
-    Sir James that bold baron:
-
-  And, with sir George, and good sir James,
-    Both knights of good account,
-  Good sir Ralph Raby there was slain,
-    Whose prowess did surmount.
-
-  For Witherington needs must I wail,
-    As one in doleful dumps;
-  For when his legs were smitten off,
-    He fought upon his stumps.
-
-  And with earl Douglas there was slain
-    Sir Hugh Montgomery,
-  Sir Charles Currel, that from the field
-    One foot would never fly;
-
-  Sir Charles Murrel of Ratcliffe too,
-    His sister’s son was he;
-  Sir David Lamb, so well esteem’d,
-    Yet saved could not be.
-
-  And the lord Maxwell, in likewise,
-    Did with earl Douglas die:
-  Of twenty hundred Scottish spears
-    Scarce fifty-five did fly.
-
-  Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,
-    Went home but fifty-three:
-  The rest were slain in Chevy Chase,
-    Under the greenwood tree.
-
-  Next day did many widows come,
-    Their husbands to bewail;
-  They wash’d their wounds in brinish tears
-    But all would not prevail.
-
-  Their bodies, bath’d in purple blood,
-    They bore with them away;
-  They kiss’d them dead a thousand times,
-    When they were clad in clay.
-
-  This news was brought to Edinburgh,
-    Where Scotland’s king did reign,
-  That brave earl Douglas suddenly
-    Was with an arrow slain.
-
-  O heavy news! king James did say,
-    Scotland can witness be,
-  I have not any captain more
-    Of such account as he.
-
-  Like tidings to king Henry came,
-    Within as short a space,
-  That Percy of Northumberland
-    Was slain in Chevy Chase.
-
-  Now God be with him! said our king,
-    Sith ’twill no better be;
-  I trust I have within my realm
-    Five hundred as good as he.
-
-  Yet shall not Scot nor Scotland say,
-    But I will vengeance take;
-  And be revenged on them all,
-    For brave lord Percy’s sake.
-
-  This vow full well the king perform’d,
-    After, on Humble-down;
-  In one day fifty knights were slain,
-    With lords of great renown;
-
-  And of the rest, of small account,
-    Did many hundreds die.
-  Thus ended the hunting of Chevy Chase,
-    Made by the earl Percy.
-
-  God save the king, and bless the land
-    In plenty, joy, and peace;
-  And grant, henceforth, that foul debate
-    ’Twixt noblemen may cease.
-
-
-
-
-AN OLD SONG ON THE BATTLE OF FLODDEN.
-
-
-  I Have heard of a lilting, at our ewes’ milking,
-    Lasses a lilting, before the break of day;
-  But now there’s a moaning, on ilka green loaning,
-    That our braw forresters are a’ wede away.
-
-  At boughts, in the morning, nae blyth lads are scorning;
-    The lasses are lonely, dowie, and wae;
-  Nae daffin, nae gabbin, but sighing and sabbing,
-    Ilka ane lifts her leglen, and hies her away.
-
-  At e’en at the gloming, nae swankies are roaming,
-    ’Mong stacks, with the lasses, at bogle to play;
-  But ilka ane sits dreary, lamenting her deary,
-    The Flowers of the Forest that are a’ wede away.
-
-  At harrest, at the shearing, nae youngsters are jeering,
-    The bansters are runkled, lyart, and grey.
-  At a fair, or a preaching, nae wooing, nae fleeching,
-    Since our braw forresters are a’ wede away.
-
-  O dool for the order, sent our lads to the border:
-    The English for anes by guile gat the day.
-  The Flowers of the Forrest, that ay shone the foremost,
-    The prime of our land, lies cauld in the clay.
-
-  We’ll hear nae mair lilting, at our ewes’ milking,
-    The women and bairns are dowie, and wae.
-  Sighing and moaning, on ilka green loaning,
-    Since our braw forresters are a’ wede away.
-
-
-
-
-THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST; _Or, Flodden Field_.
-
-
-(Fought September 9th, 1513.)
-
-This version is made up from various copies of this old ballad
-collated, and is of very unequal merit. The stanzas, from the 17th to
-the 22d inclusive, compose a dirge of the most beautiful and pathetic
-simplicity. The circumstances are happily chosen and combined; and the
-language, to those who understand it, is so picturesquely expressive,
-that while we read the words, the scene is felt penciled on our
-imagination. And it is impossible to peruse it without feeling a high
-degree of that pleasing sombre tenderness, which it is the object of
-this sort of poetry to produce.
-
-          From Spey to the border,
-          Was peace and good order;
-  The sway of our monarch was mild as the May;
-          Peace he adored,
-          Whilk Soudrons abhorred,
-  Our marches they plunder, our wardens they slay.
-
-          ’Gainst LOUIS, our ally,
-          Their HENRY did sally,
-  Tho’ JAMES, but in vain, did his herauld advance,
-          Renouncing alliance,
-          Denouncing defiance,
-  To Soudrons, if langer abiding in France.
-
-          Many were the omens,
-          Our ruin was coming,
-  E’er the flower of our nation was call’d to array:
-          Our king at devotion,
-          St Andrew did caution,
-  And sigh’d as with sorrow he to him did say,--
-
-          Sir, in this expedition,
-          You must have ambition;
-  From the company of women you shou’d keep away.
-          When the spectre this declar’d,
-          It quickly disappear’d;
-  But where it retired no man could espy.
-
-          The flowers of the nation
-          Were call’d to their station,
-  With valiant inclination their banners to display;
-          To Burrow-Muir resorting;
-          Their right for supporting,
-  And there rendevouzing, encamped did lay.
-
-          But another bad omen,
-          That vengeance was coming;
-  At midnight, in Edinburgh, a voice loud did cry,
-          As heraulds, in their station,
-          With loud proclamation,
-  Did name all our barons in England to die.
-
-          These words the demon spoke,
-          At the throne of Plotcock,
-  It charg’d their appearing, appointing the day:
-          The provost, in its hearing,
-          The summons greatly fearing,
-  Appeal’d to his Maker, the same did deny.
-
-          At this were many griev’d,
-          As many misbeliev’d;
-  But forward they march’d to their destiny:
-          From thence to the border,
-          They march’d in good order,
-  The Merse-men and Forrest they join’d the array.
-
-          England’s invasion,
-          It was their persuasion,
-  To make restitution for their cruelty;
-          But O fatal Flodoun!
-          There came the wo down;
-  And our royal nation was brought to decay.
-
-          After spoiling and burning,
-          Many hameward returning,
-  With our king still the nobles and vassals abide:
-          To SURREY’S proud vaunting,
-          He answers but daunting;
-  The king would await him whatever betide.
-
-          The English advanced
-          To where they were stanced;
-  Half-intrenched by nature, the field it so lay:
-          To fight the English fearing,
-          And sham’d their retiring;
-  But alas! unperceived was their subtilty.
-
-          Our Highland battalion,
-          So forward and valiant,
-  They broke from their ranks, and they rush’d on to slay:
-          With hacking and slashing,
-          And broad swords a-dashing,
-  Thro’ the front of the English they cut a full way.
-
-          But, alas! to their ruin,
-          An ambush pursuing,
-  They were surrounded with numbers too high:
-          The Merse-men and Forest,
-          They suff’red the sorest,
-  Upon the left wing were inclos’d the same way.
-
-          Our men into parties,
-          The battle in three quarters,
-  Upon our main body the marksmen did play:
-          The spearmen were surrounded.
-          And all were confounded;
-  The fatal devastation of that woful day!
-
-          Our nobles all ensnared,
-          Our king he was not spared;
-  For of that fate he shared, and would not run away;
-          The whole were intercepted,
-          That very few escaped
-  The fatal conflagration of that woful day.
-
-          This set the whole nation
-          Into grief and vexation:
-  The widows did weep, and the maidens did say,
-          Why tarries my lover?
-          The battle’s surely over?
-  Is there none left to tell us the fates of the day?
-
-          I’ve heard a lilting,
-          At our ewes’ milking,
-  Lasses a-lilting afore the break of day;
-          But now there’s a moaning,
-          On ilka green loaning,
-  Since our bra foresters are a’ wed away.
-
-          At boughts i’ the morning,
-          Nae blyth lads are scorning;
-  The lasses are lonely, dowie, and wae;
-          Nae daffin, nae gabbin,
-          But sighing and sabbing,
-  Ilk ane lifts her leglen, and hies her away.
-
-          At e’en in the glomin,
-          Nae swankeys are roaming,
-  ’Mang stacks, wi’ the lasses, at bogle to play;
-          But ilk ane sits dreary,
-          Lamenting her deary,
-  The flowers of the Forest that are wed away.
-
-          In herst, at the shearing,
-          Nae younkers are jeering;
-  The bansters are lyart, runkled, and grey:
-          At fairs nor at preaching,
-          Nae wooing, nae fleeching,
-  Since our bra’ Foresters are a’ wed away.
-
-          O dool for the order,
-          Sent our lads to the border!
-  The English for anes by guile got the day:
-          The Flowers of the Forest,
-          That ay shone the foremost,
-  The prime of our land lies cauld in the clay.
-
-          We’ll hear nae mair lilting,
-          At our ewes’ milking:
-  The women and bairns are dowie and wae,
-          Sighing and moaning,
-          On ilka green loaning,
-  Since our bra Foresters are a’ wed away.
-
-          I’ve seen the smiling
-          Of fortune beguiling;
-  I’ve felt all her favours, and found her decay:
-          Sweet is her blessing,
-          And kind her caressing;
-  But now it is fled, it is fled far away.
-
-          I’ve seen the forest
-          Adorned the foremost,
-  With flowers of the fairest both pleasant and gay:
-          Sae bonny was their blooming,
-          Their scent the air perfuming;
-  But now they are withered, and all gone away.
-
-          I’ve seen the morning,
-          With gold the hills adorning,
-  And loud tempests storming before mid-day:
-          I’ve seen Tweed’s silver streams
-          Shining i’ the sunny beams,
-  Grow drumly and dark as it roll’d on the way.
-
-          O fickle fortune!
-          Why this cruel sporting?
-  Why this perplexing poor sons of a day?
-          Thy frowns cannot fear me,
-          Nor smiles cannot chear me,
-  Since the Flowers of the Forest are a’ wed away.
-
-
-
-
-VERSES _ON JAMES THE IVth, OF SCOTLAND_. Who fell at the Battle of
-Flodden.
-
-
-Among the various antiquities preserved in the Heralds College, London,
-there are the Sword, Dagger, and Turquois Ring, of James the IVth, of
-Scotland, slain at the battle of Flodden.
-
-  ’Twas he that rul’d his Country’s heart
-    With more than Royal sway--
-  But Scotland saw her James depart,
-    And sadden’d at his stay.
-
-  She heard his fate--she wept her grief--
-  That James, her own, her darling Chief,
-      Was gone for evermore.
-  But this she learnt, that e’er he fell,
-  (Oh, Men! Oh, Patriots! mark it well)
-  His Fellow Soldiers round his fall,
-  Enclos’d him like a living wall,
-      Mixing their friendly gore.
-
-  Nor was the day of Flodden done,
-  ’Till they were slaughter’d, one by one,
-    And this may serve to shew--
-  When Kings are Patriots none will fly:
-  When such a King was doom’d to die,
-    Oh, who would Death forego?
-
-
-
-
-THE BATTLE OF REID SQUAIR.
-
-
-(Fought July 7th, 1576.)
-
-  On July seventh, the suthe to say,
-    At the Reid Squair the tryst was set.
-  Our wardens they affixt the day,
-    And as they promist, sae they met:
-    Allace! that day I’ll neir forzet,
-  Was sure sae feir’d, and then sae fain,
-    They cam thair justice for to get,
-  Will nevir grein to cum again.
-
-  CARMICHAEL was our warden then,
-    He causit the countrey to convene,
-  And the laird WATT, that worthy man,
-    Brocht in his surname weil be sene:
-    The ARMSTRANGS that ay haif bene
-  A hardy house, but not a hail;
-    The ELLIOTTS honours to mentain,
-  Brought in the laif of LIDDISDALE.
-
-  Then TWIDAIL came to with speid,
-    The Scheriff brocht the DOUGLAS doun,
-  With CRANSTANE, GLADSTANE, gude at neid,
-    Baith Rewls-water and Hawick Town.
-    BEANGEDDERT bauldly maid him boun,
-  With all the TRUMBLES strang and stout;
-    The RUTHIRFUIRDS, with grit renoun,
-  Convoyit the town of Jedbruch out.
-
-  With other Clanns I can nocht tell,
-    Because our wairning was nocht wyde,
-  Be this our folk hes tane the fell,
-    And plantit pallions thair to byde:
-    We lukit down the uther syde,
-  And saw cum briesting owr the brae,
-    And Sir GEORGE FOSTER was thair gyde,
-  With fyftene hundrid men and mae.
-
-  It greivt him sair that day I trow,
-    With Sir JOHN HINROME of Schipsydehouse,
-  Because we were not men enow,
-    He counted us not worth a souse;
-    Sir GEORGE was gentil, meik, and douse,
-  But he was hail and het as fyre:
-    But zit for all his cracking crouse,
-  He rewd the raid of the Reid Squyre.
-
-  To deil with proud men is but pain,
-    For ether ze maun ficht or flie,
-  Or els nae answer mack again,
-    But play the beist, and let him be.
-    It was nae wondir tho’ he was hie,
-  Had TYNDALL, REDSDAILE at his hand,
-    With CUCKSDAILE, GLADSDAILE on the lie,
-  Auld HEBSRIME and NORTHUMBERLAND.
-
-  Zit was our meeting meik enough,
-    Begun with mirriness and mows,
-  And at the brae abune the heugh
-    The clerk sat doun to call the rows,
-    And sum for ky and sum for ewis,
-  Callit in of DANDRIE HOB and JOCK,
-    I saw cum merching owre the knows,
-  Fyve hundred FENNICKS in a flock.
-
-  With jack and speir, and bowis all bent,
-    And warlike weaponis at their will;
-  Howbeit they wer not weil content,
-    Zit be me trouth we feird nae ill:
-    Sum zeid to drink, and sum stude still,
-  And sum to cards and dyce them sped,
-    Quhyle on ane Farstein they fyld a bill,
-  And he was fugitive that fled.
-
-  CARMICHAEL bad them speik out plainly,
-    And cloke nae cause for ill nor gude,
-  The uther answering him full vainly,
-    Begouth to reckon kin and blude,
-    He raise and rax’d him quhair he stude,
-  And bade him match him with his marrows;
-    Then TYNDAL hard these reseuns rude,
-  And they lute aff a flight of arrows.
-
-  Then was ther nocht but bow and speir,
-    And ilka man pullit out a brand,
-  A SCHAFTAN and a FENNICK their,
-    Gude SYMINGTON was slain frae hand.
-    The Scotismen cryd on uther to stand,
-  Frae tyme they saw JOHN ROBSON slain:
-    Quhat suld they cry! The King’s command
-  Culd cause nae cowards turn again.
-
-  Up raise the laird to red the cumber,
-    Quhilk wald not be for all his boist,
-  Quhat suld we do with sic a number,
-    Fyve thousand men into an hoist?
-    Then HENRIE PURDIE proud hes cost,
-  And verie narrowlie had mischiefd him,
-    And ther we had our WARDEN lost,
-  Wart not the grit GOD he relievd him.
-
-  Ane uther throw the breiks him bair,
-    Quhyle flatlines to the ground he fell:
-  Then thocht I, we had lost him thair,
-    Into my heart it struck a knell;
-    Zit up he raise, the truth to tell,
-  And laid about him dunts full dour,
-    His horsemen they faucht stout and snell,
-  And stude about him in the stour.
-
-  Then raisd the slogan with an schout,
-    Fy, TYNDALL to it, JEDBRUGH heir;
-  I trow he was not half sae stout,
-    But anes his stomach was a steir,
-    With gun and genzie, bow and spier,
-  He micht se mony a crakit crown,
-    But up amang the merchant gier,
-  They bussie were as we wer doun.
-
-  The swallow-tails frae teckles flew,
-    Fyve hundred slain into the flicht,
-  But we had pestellets anew,
-    And schot amang them as we micht.
-    With help of GOD the game gade richt,
-  Frae tyme the foremost of them fell;
-    Hynd owre the know, without gude-nicht,
-  They ran with mony a schout and zell.
-
-  And after they had turnd again,
-    Zit TYNDALL men they turnd again,
-  And had not bene the merchant packs,
-    There had bene mae of Scotland slain:
-    But JESU gif the folk was fain
-  No put the bussing on thair theis,
-    And sae they fled with all thair main,
-  Doun owre the brae lyke clogged beis.
-
-  Sir FRANCIS RUSSEL tane was thair,
-    And hurt, as we heir men reherse;
-  Proud WALLINGTOUN was wounded sair,
-    Albeit he was a Fennick ferss,
-    But gif ze wald a souldier serche
-  Amang them all was tane that night,
-    Was nane sae wordie of our verse
-  As COLINGWOOD that courteous knight.
-
-  Zung HENRY skapit hame, is hurt,
-    A souldier schot him with a bow,
-  Scotland has cause to make great sturt,
-    For laiming of the Laird of Mow.
-    The Laird WATT did weil indeid,
-  His friends stude stoutly by himsell,
-    With little GLADSTONE, gude in neid,
-  For GRETEIN kend not gude be ill.
-
-  The SCHERIFF wantit not gude-will,
-    Howbeit he might not ficht sae fast:
-  BENJEADERT, HUNDLIE and HUNTHILL,
-    Three, on they laid well at the last
-    Except the horsemen of the gaird:
-  If I could put men to avail,
-    Nane stoutlier stude out for their laird,
-  Nor did the lads of LIDDISDALE.
-
-  But little harness had we thair,
-    But auld BADRULE had on a jack,
-  And did richt weil, I zou declair,
-    With all the TRUMBULLS at his back.
-    Gude EDERSTANE was not to lack,
-  With KIRTOUN, NEWTOUN, nobill-men.
-    Thir is ail the specials I haif spack,
-  Forby them that I could nocht ken.
-
-  Qhua did invent that day of play,
-    We neid nocht feir to find him sune,
-  For Sir JOHN FOSTER, I dare weil say,
-    Maid us that noysome afternune:
-    Not that I speik precisely out,
-  That he supposd it wald be perill,
-    But pryde and breaking out, but dout,
-  Gart TYNDALL lads begin the quarrell.
-
-
-
-
-FAIR ‘MABEL’ OF WALLINGTON.
-
-
-  When we were silly sisters seven, sisters [we] were so fair.
-  Five of us were brave knights wives, and died in child-bed sair,
-  Up then spake fair ‘Mabel’, marry would she nane.
-  If ever she came in man’s bed the same gate wad she gang.
-  Make no vows, fair ‘Mabel’, for fear they broken be,
-  Here’s been the knight of Wallington asking good-will of thee.
-  Here’s been the knight [of Wallington] mother, asking good-will of me;
-  Within three-quarters of a year you may come bury me.
-
-  When she came to Wallington, and into Wallington-hall,
-  There she spy’d her mother dear walking about the wall.
-  You’re welcome, daughter dear, to thy castle and thy bower.
-  I thank you kindly, mother, I hope they’ll soon be your’s.
-  She had not been in Wallington three-quarters and a day,
-  Till upon the ground she could not walk, she was a weary prey;
-  She had not been in Wallington three-quarters and a night,
-  Till on the ground she cou’d not walk, she was a weary ‘wight.’
-
-  Is there ne’er a boy in this town who’ll win hose and shun,
-  That will run to fair Pudlington, and bid my mother come?
-  Up then spake a little boy, near unto [her] a-kin,
-  Full oft I have your errands gone, but now I will it run.
-  Then she call’d her waiting-maid to bring up bread and wine:
-  Eat and drink, thou bonny boy, thou’ll ne’er eat more of mine:
-  Give my respects to my mother, as [she] ‘sits’ in her chair of stone,
-  And ask her how she likes the news of seven to have but one.
-
-  Give my love to my brother William, Ralph, and John;
-  And to my sister Betty fair, and to her white as bone,
-  And bid her keep her maidenhead, be sure to make much on’t,
-  For if e’er she come in man’s bed, the same gate will she gang.
-  Away this little boy is gone as fast as he could run,
-  When he came where brigs were broke, he lay down and ‘swum.’
-  When he saw the lady, he said, Lord may your keeper be!
-  What news, my pretty boy, ‘hast’ thou to tell to me?
-
-  Your daughter ‘Mabel’ orders me, as you sit in a chair of stone,
-  To ask you how you like the news of seven to have but one;
-  Your daughter gives commands as you sit in a chair of ‘state,’
-  And bids you come to her sickening, her ‘weary’ lake-wake:
-  She gives command to her brother William, Ralph, and John;
-  To her sister Betty fair, and to her white [as] bone,
-  She bids her keep her maidenhead, besure make much on’t,
-  For if e’er she come in man’s bed the same gate wou’d she gang.
-
-  She kickt the table with her foot, she kickt it with her knee,
-  The silver plate into the fire so far she made it flee:
-  Then she call’d her waiting-maid to bring her riding-hood,
-  So did she on her stable-groom to bring her ‘stead so good:’
-  Go saddle to me the black, go saddle to me the brown,
-  Go saddle to me the swiftest steed that e’er rid Wallington,
-  When she came to Wallington, and into Wallington-hall,
-  There she espy’d her son Fenwick walking about the wall.
-
-  God save you, dear son, Lord may your keeper be!
-  Where is my daughter fair, that used to walk with thee?
-  He turn’d his head round about, the tears did fill his eye;
-  ’Tis a month, he said, since she took her chambers from me.
-  She went on, and there were in the hall
-  Four and twenty ladies letting the tears down fall:
-  Her daughter had a scope into her chest, and into her chin,
-  All to keep her life till her dear mother came therein.
-
-  Come take the rings off my finger, the skin it is so white,
-  And give them to my mother dear, for she was all the ‘weight;’
-  Come take the rings off my fingers, the veins are so red,
-  Give them to sir William Fenwick, I’m sure his heart will bleed.
-  She took out a razor, that was sharp and fine,
-  And out of her left side she has taken the heir of Wallington,
-  There is a race in Wallington, and that I rue full sare,
-  Tho’ the cradle it be full spread up, the bride-bed is left bare.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-VERSES
-
-
-_On a View of Roadley Castle, not far from Wallington, in
-Northumberland, built by the late worthy Sir Walter Blackett, Bart,
-with a small Description of its Situation, comprehending Codgy Fort,
-the Lake, the noted Greenlighton Hill, &c. by Thomas Oliver, of
-Hallington, Northumberland, taken before the Deer were destroyed in the
-Park, wherein the Castle stands, soon after the Death of Sir Walter
-Blackett._
-
-Hutchinson, in his History of Northumberland, appears not to have
-liked Roadley or Rothley Castle: he finishes his description of it
-by saying, it would be “pretty enough for the reception of Thomas of
-Hick-a-thrift, or Jack the Giant Killer.”
-
-  There’s Roadley’s ‘cloud capt’ lofty hill,
-    With humble dales below;
-  The mighty crags its front do fill,
-    White as if flect with snow.
-
-  These rugged rocks rough Boreas scorn,
-    Nor blust’ring Æolus dread:
-  Some as by Noah’s deluge torn,
-    From their huge massy bed.
-
-  Upon its airy summit high,
-    An antique tower appears,
-  Who to the stranger passing by,
-    Seems ag’d a thousand years.
-
-  Thus in its melancholy state,
-    A Windsor’s view commands;
-  And to defend the brazen gate,
-    Cæsar and Pompey stands.
-
-  Within the compass of an eye,
-    Sweet rising scenes appear:
-  There fleecy flocks a feeding by,
-    With stately herds of deer.
-
-  But when with more extended rays,
-    Your circling eyes you guide:
-  Nature fresh beauties still displays,
-    From Blyth to Symmon Side.[43]
-
-  Nor far from hence stands Codgy Fort,
-    Built on a craggy hill;
-  Where hawks, and daws, and owls resort,
-    And wild blue pigeons bill.
-
-  Bordering, a sloping raggy brake,
-    Spreading, appears in sight;
-  A deep extensive, warping lake,[44]
-    With water birds on flight.
-
-  While numbers on the surface float,
-    Down diving o’er and o’er:
-  With bumpkins in the pleasure boat,
-    Launching from shore to shore.
-
-  Grey game, and Grouse in num’rous broods,
-    About Greenlighton Hill;
-  Where piping Pan his flocks he feeds,
-    Around that humble vill.
-
-  By dawn of day, Mary and Bett,
-    Hies to the birney knows;
-  Where blithsome many a morn we’ve met,
-    At milking of the ewes.
-
-  By Maria’s mean courtesy taught,
-    When flocks did chance to roam;
-  I wore them to the milking Bought,
-    And bore her leglin home.
-
-[43] The view is extensive, from here may be seen the Symon Side Hills
-on one side, to the town of Blyth on the other.
-
-[44] At the foot of the hill on which the castle stands, near
-the north-west corner of the park, are two fine sheets of water,
-communicating with each other, called _Rothly Ponds_. Formerly they
-were tastefully ornamented by a shrubbery, which was disposed round
-the margin of the water. A boat and fishing tackling were formerly
-kept here, and a tent was pitched in the summer near the lakes, where
-visitants were plentifully regaled by the late generous proprietor,
-who frequently amused himself at this place. _Vide_ p. 105, v. 2, of
-Northumberland, 1811.
-
-
-
-
-THE BATTLE OF HUMBLEDOWN HILL.
-
-
-(_By E.W. August 5th, 1791._)
-
-The author of this suggested the idea from reading the verse of Chevy
-Chace:--
-
-  “This vow full well the King perform’d
-    After, on Humbledown,
-  In one day fifty Knights were slain
-    With Lords of great renown.”
-
-In the second volume of Guthrie’s History of Scotland, the battle is
-fully described.
-
-  Sir Swinton was a doughty knight
-    As ever Scotland bred;
-  Than Gordon none more brave in fight,
-    Did ever cross the Tweed.
-
-  But deidly feuds subsisted long
-    Between these valiant twain,
-  They never met--but straight they fought
-    With all their martial train.
-
-  At last they hied with ilk his band
-    To Brae of Humbledown,
-  Where Douglas and his army lay
-    Wi’ Knights of great renown.
-
-  Now baith afore the Douglas stood,
-    And glowr’d wi’ hatefu’ spite,
-  And half unsheath’d their shining blades,
-    And quak’d and burn’d to fight.
-
-  Then mighty Douglas leap’d between
-    To redd the foul debate,
-  “O Sirs!” he cries, “thrust in your glaives
-    And quell this rising state.
-
-  “For, look you! where the English lies
-    On yonder tented field,
-  To morrow’s morn, if right I ween,
-    We’ll need both sword and sheild.
-
-  “Gin we to Scotland mean to go,
-    Our road lies thro’ yon host;
-  First spend your fury on the foe,
-    Then fight--if fight ye must.”
-
-  He spake--in sullens baith withdrew,
-    Now all prepare for fight,
-  And arms and armour clattering brake
-    The silence of the night.
-
-  In bluid red clouds the Sun arose,
-    Which saw that fatal day,
-  Where bretheless on the green hill side
-    Fu’ many a bra’ Scot lay.
-
-  For sair--the English bowmen gall’d
-    The van--the ungear’d stood,
-  Nae thirsty shaft e’er reach’d the earth
-    Unstain’d wi’ Scottish bluid.
-
-  Then Sir John Swinton loudly cries
-    “Bra’ lads! gif we must die,
-  Follow our cheif, and syne our foes
-    Shall bear us companie.”
-
-  These words when Adam Gordon heard,
-    He hastens to the place,
-  “When our dear country claims our aid
-    Let all our quarrels cease.
-
-  “For, mine are gone--most valiant Knight!
-    And now a boon I crave--
-  That frae thy noble arm--the meed
-    Of Knighthood I must have.”
-
-  “And mine for aye!”--replies Sir John,
-    And to his breast him drew;
-  Then dubb’d him Knight, while deidly flight
-    Of arrows round them flew.
-
-  Then wi’ their men, these valiant twain
-    Rush’d down the green hill’s side,
-  And ’mongst their foes, wi’ mortal blows
-    Their hands in bluid they dy’d.
-
-  Like two huge rocks on Bramor’s brow,
-    When loossen’d fra’ their bed,
-  That thunder down and overthrow
-    The pines which crown the glade.
-
-  Thus they, thro’ ranks, the Earl of March
-    And the bold Percies fought,
-  And bluid and carnage mark’d their path
-    Where’er they step’d and fought.
-
-  At length they’re wi’ their gallant train
-    By numbers compass’d round,
-  And fighting fall on heaps of slain,
-    And stain with gore the ground.
-
-  Thus did these valiant cheiftains fall
-    Who liv’d in mortal strife,
-  But lock’d in one another’s arms,
-    Dear friendship clos’d their life.
-
-  And now the Scottish lines were broke
-    Wi’ rout and disarray,
-  And many a man was lost in [Tweed]
-    That strove to flee that day.
-
-  The mighty Douglas too was ta’en
-    For ne’er a foot he’d flee,
-  But first five greevous wounds he got
-    And also lost an eye.
-
-  With Gordon and with Swinton fell
-    Sir John of Callender,
-  Sir Ramsay of Dalhousie too,
-    And Sir Walter Sinclair.
-
-  And Roger Gordon likewise died,
-    Wi’ Walter Scot sae brave,
-  And many more of note beside
-    Whom valour cou’d not save.
-
-  But past all count, the pris’ners were
-    Wi’ doughty Douglas ta’en,
-  Fife, Murray, Angus, Orkney Earls,
-    Lord Graham and Erskine.
-
-  With eighty Knights and many more
-    Than can ee’ now be told,
-  All captives led, for ransome sett
-    By Harry Hotspur bold.
-
-  Fra’ Forth to Tweed, a swankie blade
-    Was then a sight to see,
-  The co’uter left in half plough’d lidge
-    Lay rusting in the lee.
-
-  God prosper Scotland, let us say,
-    And grant our wars be done,
-  And may we ne’er see sic a day
-    As that of Humbledown.[45]
-
-[45] In the plain beneath the hill and village of Humbledown or
-Humbleton is a stone pillar, denoting the ground where 10,000 of
-the Scots, under Earl Douglas, in the reign of King Henry IV, on
-Holyrood-day, 1402, had a great overthrow, by Henry Lord Percy and
-George Earl of March. Douglas had entered England about the middle of
-August, and destroyed and plundered the country as far as Newcastle.
-On his return to Scotland he was intercepted by Earl Percy, and was
-obliged to engage on this plain: the battle was so bloody that the
-lands gained the name of Redriggs, from the slaughter with which they
-were stained. Among the prisoners were the Earls of Fife, Murray,
-Angus, Athol, Orkney, and Monteath, the Lords Montgomery and Erskine,
-and about 80 knights. Douglas received five wounds and lost an eye.
-Being hotly pursued, in the flight 500 Scots were drowned in the Tweed,
-the most of their army on this fatal day were left dead, or taken
-prisoners.
-
-
-
-
-THE LAIDLEY WORM _OF SPINDLESTON-HEUGH_.
-
-
-  _Virgo jam serpens sinuosa volumina versat,_
-  _Mille trahens varios adverso sole colores,_
-  _Arrectis horret squamis et sibilat ore;_
-  _Arduaque insurgens navem de littore pulsat._
-
-A Song about 550 Years old, made by the old Mountain-bard, Duncan
-Frasier, living on Cheviot, A.D. 1270.
-
-_First printed from an ancient MSS._
-
-BY MR ROBERT LAMBE, VICAR OF NORHAM.
-
-  The king is gone from Bambrough Castle,
-    Long may the princess mourn,
-  Long may she stand on the castle wall,
-    Looking for his return.
-
-  She has knotted the keys upon a string,
-    And with her she has them ta’en,
-  She has cast them o’er her left shoulder,
-    And to the gate she is gane.
-
-  She tripped out, she tripped in,
-    She tript into the yard;
-  But it was more for the king’s sake,
-    Than for the queen’s regard.
-
-  It fell out on a day, the king
-    Brought the queen with him home;
-  And all the lords, in our country,
-    To welcome them did come.
-
-  Oh! welcome father, the lady cries,
-    Unto your halls and bowers;
-  And so are you, my step-mother,
-    For all that’s here is yours.
-
-  A lord said, wond’ring while she spake,
-    This princess of the North
-  Surpasses all of female kind
-    In beauty, and in worth.
-
-  The envious queen replied, at least,
-    You might have excepted me;
-  In a few hours, I will her bring
-    Down to a low degree.
-
-  I will her liken to a Laidley worm,
-    That warps about the stone,
-  And not, till Childly Wynd comes back,
-    Shall she again be won.
-
-  The princess stood at the bower door
-    Laughing, who could her blame?
-  But e’er the next day’s sun went down,
-    A long worm she became.
-
-  For seven miles east, for seven miles west,
-    And seven miles north, and south,
-  No blade of grass or corn could grow,
-    So venomous was her mouth.
-
-  The milk of seven stately cows,
-    It was costly her to keep,
-  Was brought her daily, which she drank
-    Before she went to sleep.
-
-  At this day may be seen the cave,
-    Which held her folded up,
-  And the stone trough, the very same
-    Out of which she did sup.
-
-  Word went east, and word went west,
-    And word is gone over the sea,
-  That a Laidley worm in Spindleston-Heughs
-    Would ruin the North Country.
-
-  Word went east, and word went west,
-    And over the sea did go;
-  The Child de Wynd got wit of it,
-    Which filled his heart with woe.
-
-  He called straight his merry men all,
-    They thirty were and three:
-  I wish I were at Spindleston,
-    This desperate worm to see.
-
-  We have no time now here to waste,
-    Hence quickly let us sail:
-  My only sister Margaret,
-    Something, I fear, doth ail.
-
-  They built a ship without delay,
-    With masts of the rown tree,
-  With flut’ring sails of silk so fine,
-    And set her on the sea.
-
-  They went on board. The wind with speed
-    Blew them along the deep,
-  At length they spied an huge square tower
-    On a rock high and steep.
-
-  The sea was smooth, the weather clear,
-    When they approached nigher,
-  King Ida’s castle they well knew,
-    And the banks of Bambroughshire.
-
-  The queen look’d out at her bower window,
-    To see what she could see;
-  There she espied a gallant ship
-    Sailing upon the sea.
-
-  When she beheld the silken sails,
-    Full glancing in the sun,
-  To sink the ship she sent away
-    Her witch wives every one.
-
-  The spells were vain; the hags returned
-    To the queen in sorrowful mood,
-  Crying that witches have no power,
-    Where there is rown-tree wood.
-
-  Her last effort, she sent a boat,
-    Which in the haven lay,
-  With armed men to board the ship,
-    But they were driven away.
-
-  The worm lept up, the worm lept down,
-    She plaited round the stone;
-  And ay as she came to the land
-    She banged it off again.
-
-  The child then ran out of her reach
-    The ship on Budley-sand;
-  And jumping into the shallow sea,
-    Securely got to land.
-
-  And now he drew his berry-broad sword,
-    And laid it on her head;
-  And swore if she did harm to him
-    That he would strike her dead.
-
-  O! quit thy sword and bend thy bow,
-    And give me kisses three;
-  For though I am a poisonous worm,
-    No hurt I’ll do to thee.
-
-  Oh! quit thy sword, and bend thy bow
-    And give me kisses three;
-  If I’m not won, e’er the sun go down,
-    Won I shall never be.
-
-  He quitted his sword and bent his bow,
-    He gave her kisses three;
-  She crept into a hole a worm,
-    But out stept a lady.
-
-  No cloathing had this lady fine,
-    To keep her from the cold;
-  He took his mantle from him about,
-    And round her did it fold.
-
-  He has taken his mantle from him about,
-    And in it he wrapt her in,
-  And they are up to Bambrough castle,
-    As fast as they can win.
-
-  His absence and her serpent shape,
-    The king had long deplored,
-  He now rejoiced to see them both
-    Again to him restored.
-
-  The queen they wanted, whom they found
-    All pale, and sore afraid;
-  Because she knew her power must yield
-    To Childy Wynd’s, who said,
-
-  Woe be to thee, thou wicked witch,
-    An ill death mayest thou dee;
-  As thou my sister hast lik’ned,
-    So lik’ned shalt thou be.
-
-  I will turn you into a toad,
-    That on the ground doth wend;
-  And won, won, shall thou never be,
-    Till this world hath an end.
-
-  Now on the sand near Ida’s tower,
-    She crawls a loathsome toad,
-  And venom spits on every maid
-    She meets upon her road.
-
-  The virgins all of Bambrough town,
-    Will swear that they have seen
-  This spiteful toad, of monstrous size,
-    Whilst walking they have been.
-
-  All folks believe within the shire
-    The story to be true,
-  And they all run to Spindleston,
-    The cave and trough to view.
-
-  This fact now Duncan Frasier
-    Of Cheviot, sings in rhyme;
-  Lest Bambrough-shire-men should forget
-    Some part of it in time.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-THE FISHER LADDIE.
-
-
-  On Bamboroughshire’s rocky shore,
-    Just as you enter _Bowmer_ Raw,
-  There lives the bonny fisher lad,
-    The fisher lad that bangs them a’.
-        O the bonny fisher lad,
-          That brings the fishes fra’ the sea;
-        O the bonny fisher lad,
-          The fisher lad gat had of me.
-
-  My mother sent me out one day,
-    To gather cockles fra’ the sea;
-  But I had not been long away,
-    When the fisher lad gat had of me.
-        O the bonny, &c.
-
-  A sailor I will never marry,
-    Nor soldier, for he’s got no _brass_;
-  But I will have a fisher lad
-    Because I am a fisher’s lass.
-        O the bonny, &c.
-
-
-
-
-THE KYE’s COME HOME.
-
-
-  The kye are come hame,
-    But I see not my hinny,
-  The kye are come hame,
-    But I see not my bairn:
-  I’d rather lose all the kye
-    Than lose my hinny,
-  I’d rather lose all the kye
-    Than lose my bairn.
-
-  Fair fac’d is my hinny,
-    His blue eyes are bonny,
-  His hair in curl’d ringlets
-    Hang sweet to the sight;
-  O mount the old poney,
-    Seek after my hinny,
-  And bring to his mammy
-    Her only delight.
-
-
-
-
-SONG.
-
-
-_A lamentable Ditty made upon the death of a worthy gentleman, named
-GEORGE STOOLE, dwelling sometime on Gate-side Moor, and sometime at
-Newcastle, in Northumberland: with his penitent end._ [c. 1610.]
-
-To a delicate Scottish Tune.
-
-  Come you lusty Northerne lads,
-    That are so blith and bonny,
-  Prepare your hearts to be full sad,
-    To heare the end of Georgy.
-      Heigh-ho, heigh-ho my bonny love,
-        Heigh-ho, heigh-ho my honny;
-      Heigh-ho, heigh-ho my owne deare love,
-        And God be with my Georgie.
-
-  When Georgie to his triall came,
-    A thousand hearts were sorry,
-  A thousand lasses wept full sore,
-    And all for love of Georgie.
-      Heigh-ho, heigh-ho my bonny love,
-        Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  Some did say he would escape,
-    Some at his fall did glory:
-  But these were clownes and fickle friends,
-    And none that loved Georgy.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  Might friends have satisfied the law,
-    Then Georgie would find many:
-  Yet bravely did he plead for life,
-    If mercy might be any.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  But when this doughty carle was cast,
-    He was full sad and sorry:
-  Yet boldly did he take his death,
-    So patiently dyde Georgie.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  As Georgie went up to the gate,
-    He tooke his leave of many:
-  He tooke his leave of his laird’s wife,
-    Whom he lov’d best of any.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  With thousand sighs and heavy looks,
-    Away from thence he parted,
-  Where he so often blithe had beene,
-    Though now so heavy hearted.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  He writ a letter with his owne hand,
-    He thought he writ it bravely:
-  He sent it to New-castle towne,
-    To his beloved lady.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  Wherein he did at large bewaile,
-    The occasion of his folly:
-  Bequeathing life unto the law,
-    His soule to heaven holy.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  Why, lady, leave to weepe for me,
-    Let not my ending grieve ye:
-  Prove constant to the man you love,
-    For I cannot relieve yee.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  Out upon thee, Withrington,
-    And fie upon thee, Phoenix:
-  Thou hast put downe the doughty one,
-    That stole the sheepe from Anix.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  And fie on all such cruell carles,
-    Whose crueltie’s so fickle,
-  To cast away a gentleman
-    In hatred for so little.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  I would I were on yonder hill,
-    Where I have beene full merry:
-  My sword and buckeler by my side
-    To fight till I be weary.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  They well should know that tooke me first,
-    Though whoops be now forsaken:
-  Had I but freedome, armes, and health,
-    I’de dye ere I’de be taken.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  But law condemns me to my grave,
-    They have me in their power;
-  There’s none but Christ that can me save,
-    At this my dying houre.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  He call’d his dearest love to him,
-    When as his heart was sorry:
-  And speaking thus with manly heart,
-    Deare sweeting, pray for Georgie.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  He gave to her a piece of gold,
-    And bade her give’t her bairns:
-  And oft he kist her rosie lips,
-    And laid him into her armes.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  And coming to the place of death,
-    He never changed colour,
-  The more he thought he would look pale,
-    The more his veines were fuller.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  And with a cheereful countenance,
-    (Being at that time entreated
-  For to confesse his former life)
-    These words he straight repeated.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  I never stole an ox or cow,
-    Nor ever murdered any:
-  But fifty horse I did receive
-    Of a merchant’s man of Gory.
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  For which I am condemn’d to dye
-    Though guiltlesse I stand dying:
-  Deare gracious God, my soule receive,
-    For now my life is flying,
-      Heigh-ho, &c.
-
-  The man of death a part did act,
-    Which grieves me tell the story;
-  God comfort all are comfortlesse,
-    And did so well as Georgie.
-      Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, my bonny love,
-        Heigh-ho, heigh-ho my bonny;
-      Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, mine own true love,
-        Sweet Christ receive my Georgie.
-
-
-
-
-_EPITAPH_ ON WILLIAM BELL, LATE A RESIDENT ON GATESHEAD FELL.
-
-
-_By Samuel Barras._
-
-  Here lies the corpse of William Bell,
-  The great good man of Gateshead Fell:
-  Zealous in his Master’s cause,
-  A strict observer of his laws:
-  He liv’d by faith, and not by sight:
-  With full assurance took his flight,
-  Unto that sweet delicious coast,
-  Where hope is in fruition lost.
-
-
-
-
-AN EXCELLENT BALLAD _On the Sickness, Death, and Burial_, OF ECKY’s
-MARE;
-
-_Which was made and composed by the late ancient and famous Northern
-poet, Mr BERNARD RUMNEY, a musician, or country fidler, who lived and
-died at Rothbury, being about one hundred years old at the time of his
-death._
-
-
-  Wold you please to hear of a sang of dule,
-    Of yea sad chance and pittifow case,
-  Makes the peur man powt through many a pule,
-    And leuk on mony an unkend face?
-
-  Between the Yule but and the Pasch,
-    In a private place, where as I lay,
-  I heard ane sigh, and cry, alas!
-    What shall I outher dea or say?
-
-  A man that’s born of a middle-yeard wight,
-    For wealth or pelth can no be secure;
-  For he may have enough at night,
-    And the next morn he may be fow peur.
-
-  I speak this by a Northumberland man,
-    The proverb’s true proves by himself;
-  Since the horse-couping he began,
-    He had great cause to crack of wealth.
-
-  Of galloways he was well stockt,
-    What some part first, what some part last;
-  But I’ll no speak much to his praise,
-    For some of them gat o’re lang a fast.
-
-  Some of them gat a shrowish cast,
-    Which was nae teaken of much pelth;
-  But yet he hopes, if life dea last,
-    To see the day to crack of welth.
-
-  But aye the warst cast still comes last,
-    He had nae geuds left but a Mear,
-  There was mair diseases did her attend
-    Nor I can name in half a year.
-
-  If Markham he himself was here,
-    A famous farrier although he be,
-  It wad set aw his wits astear
-    To reckon her diseases in their degree.
-
-  But her sicknesses we’ll set aside,
-    Now tauk we of the peur man’s cost,
-  And how she lev’d, and how she died,
-    And how his labour aw was lost.
-
-  In the winter-time she took a hoast,
-    And aw whilk while she was noe weell;
-  But yet her stomach ne’er was lost,
-    Although she never had her heal.
-
-  Now for her feud she went so yare,
-    An the fiend had been a truss of hey,
-  She wad a swallowed him and mickle mare,
-    Bequeen the night but an the dey.
-
-  The peur man cries out Armyes aye,
-    I see that she’s noe like to mend,
-  She beggers me with haver and hey,
-    I wish her some untimous end.
-
-  Nae sooner pray’d, but as soon heard,
-    She touck a fawing down behind,
-  She wad a thousand men a scar’d,
-    To have felt her how she fill’d the wind.
-
-  Her master he went out at night,
-    Of whilk he had oft mickle need,
-  He left her neane her bed to right,
-    Nor neane for to had up her head.
-
-  Next day when he came to the town,
-    He ran to see his mear with speed,
-  He thought she had fawn in a swoon,
-    But when he try’d she was cald dead.
-
-  It’s ever alas! but what remeed,
-    Had she play’d me this at Michaelmas,
-  It wad a studden me in geud steed,
-    And sav’d me both yeats, hay and grass.
-
-  There’s ne’er an elf in aw the town,
-    That hardly weell can say his creed,
-  But he will swear a solemn oath,
-    Crack o’ wealth Ecky’s mear cau’d dead.
-
-  Lad, wilt thou for Hob Trumble run?
-    I ken he will come at my need;
-  That seun he may take off her skin,
-    For I mun leeve though she be dead.
-
-  Now straight he came with knife in hand,
-    He flead her fra the top to th’ tail,
-  He left nae mare skin on her aw
-    Then wad been a heudin to a flail.
-
-  He seld her haill hide for a groat,
-    So far I let you understand,
-  And what he did weed he may well weet,
-    For he bought neither house nor land.
-
-  Now have I cassen away my care,
-    And hope to live to get another;
-  And night and day shall be my prayer,
-    The fiend gae down the loaning with her.
-
-  Now shall I draw it near an end,
-    And tauk nae mare of her at least,
-  But hoping none for to offend,
-    You shall hear part of her funeral feast.
-
-  To her resorted mony a beak,
-    And birds of sundry sorts of hue;
-  There was three hundred at the least,
-    You may believe it to be true.
-
-  Sir Ingram Corby he came first there,
-    With his fair lady clad in black,
-  And with him swarms there did appear
-    Of piots hopping at his back.
-
-  The carrion craw she was not slack,
-    Aw cled into her mourning weed,
-  With her resorted mony a mack
-    Of greedy kite and hungry gleede.
-
-  When they were aw conven’d compleat,
-    And every yean had taen their place;
-  So rudely they fell tea their meat,
-    But nane thought on to say the grace.
-
-  Some rip’d her ribs, some pluck’d her face,
-    Nae bit of her was to be seen;
-  Sir Ingram Corby in that place,
-    Himself he pick’d out baith her eyne.
-
-  But wait ye what an a chance befel,
-    When they were at this jolly chear,
-  Sir William Bark, I can you tell,
-    He unexpected lighted there.
-
-  Put aw the feasters in sike a fear,
-    Some hopt away, some flew aside,
-  There was not ane durst come him near,
-    Nay not sir Corby, nor his bride.
-
-  He came not with a single side,
-    For mony a tike did him attend,
-  I wait he was no puft we pride,
-    As you shall hear before I end.
-
-  See rudely they fell to the meat,
-    But napkin, trencher, salt, or knife;
-  Some to the head, some to the feet,
-    While banes geud bare there was na strife.
-
-  In came there a tike, they cau’d him Grim,
-    Sea greedily he did her gripe,
-  But he rave out her belly-rim,
-    And aw her puddings he made pipe.
-
-  Her lights, her liver, but an her tripe,
-    They lay all trailing upon the green;
-  They were aw gane with a sudden wipe,
-    Not any of them was to be seen.
-
-  But suddenly begeud a feast,
-    And after that begeud a fray;
-  The tikes that were baith weak and least,
-    They carried aw the bats away.
-
-  And they that were of the weaker sort,
-    They harl’d her through the paddock-peul,
-  They leugh, and said it was good sport,
-    When they had drest her like a feule.
-
-  Thus have you heard of Ecky’s mear,
-    How pitifully she made her end;
-  I write unto you far and near,
-    Who says her death is no well penn’d.
-
-  I leave it to yoursel’s to mend,
-    That chance the peur man need again;
-  If it be ill penn’d it is well kend,
-    I got as little for my ‘pain.’
-
-
-
-
-STANZAS, _Addressed to Northumbria_.
-
-
-  Old Janus advances all cloathed in white,
-    And his long-smother’d tempests sends forth;
-  On the mountains cold bosom, as black as the night,
-    Sinks the dark rolling clouds of the north.
-
-  In their winding sheets rob’d are the hills and the dales,
-    And the verdure no longer is seen;
-  Save where the slow streams wind their way thro’ the vales,
-    With their margins besprinkled with green.
-
-  On the stump of a thorn, with his bosom of red,
-    See the robin his thankful notes raise
-  For his crumbs--by his precepts, oh! may I be led
-    To give the All-bounteous due praise.
-
-  Hark! the blast sweeps the heath; see the mountain fir bend;
-    Thick tempests obscure the pale sky;
-  The fast-gathering drift on the hedge see descend,
-    And streams of faint lightning flash by.
-
-  Yes, Northumbria, thy climate is cold and severe;
-    There winter usurps the blithe spring;
-  And through the wide range of the circling year,
-    Chilling damps to thy bosom will cling.
-
-  Yet thy health-giving breeze, be it ever so cold,
-    Knits the nerves of thy children for war;
-  Whose proud speaking eye in the soldier behold,
-    And for whose dauntless heart view the tar.
-
-  He bounds o’er thy brooks, and he climbs thy wild rocks,
-    Health and vigour inhales from the breeze;
-  Despising in manhood the tempest’s rude shocks,
-    Fearless quits his dear home for the seas.
-
-  Lo! the canvas it swell’d: from the banks of the Tyne,
-    The vessel scuds swiftly along;
-  From his eye independant, see stern valour shine,
-    As he hums a Northumbrian song.
-
-  Now the battle-day comes, and far, far from his shore,
-    The squadrons of France meet his eyes;
-  Unaw’d his proud heart, ’mid the cannons’ loud roar,
-    He with Collingwood conquers and dies.
-
-  From thy hills, too, at sound of the heart-rousing drum,
-    Thy war breathing soldier retires;
-  In lion-like strength seeks the carnage field’s hum,
-    Fights--blesses thy name--and expires!
-
-  Such, such are the heroes in thy vallies rear’d,
-    Such, Northumbria, thy children still be:
-  Proud commerce, from Tyne’s banks in glory uprear’d,
-    To her breast clasps the lords of the sea.
-
-  Come forward ye dark rolling clouds of the north,
-    Who shrinks from your blasts but the coward and slave?
-  Ye nerve the bold sons that Northumbria sends forth,
-    To fight for her king on Trafalgar’s proud wave.
-
-_January 2d, 1807._
-
-BOTHWELL.
-
-
-
-
-_THOMAS WHITTLE._
-
-
-The author of the five succeeding pieces of poetry, a Northumbrian by
-birth, and was long resident in the neighbourhood of Cambo, as appears
-by the following lines taken from his WHIMSICAL LOVE with ANN DOBSON:--
-
-  “At Cambo, on a fatal day,
-    I chanc’d to see and view
-  This Celia’s face, more fresh than May,
-    When every blossom’s new;
-  Like patient Grissel, at her wheel,
-    Acting the housewife’s part,
-  My spirits in my veins did reel,
-    And love danc’d in my heart.”
-
-As also from the History of Northumberland, (1811) Vol. II, page 221.
-
-“Cambo was the favourite residence of the ingenious and eccentric
-Thomas Whittle, whose comic productions often beguile the long winter
-evenings of our rustic Northumbrians. His parents and the place of
-his birth are unknown. It is believed that he was the natural son of
-a gentleman of fortune, and that he was called Whittle from the place
-of his nativity, which some say was in the parish of Shilbottle, and
-others in the parish of Ovingham.
-
-“Though Whittle was a profligate in his life, and sometimes licentious
-in his compositions, yet the superior talents he has displayed in his
-best productions, sufficiently entitle him to our notice in this work.
-His poems and songs have long been perused by the people of the county
-with eager admiration and delight, and will probably be a source of
-entertainment to many succeeding generations. His Whimsical Love is a
-master-piece of its kind; and his Poetic Letter to the Razor-setter,
-his satirical Poem on William Carstairs, and his song called the
-Mitford Galloway, are replete with wit and humour, and will afford a
-mental feast to all who have a taste for comic poetry.” The last of
-which was published during his life, with the following old wood cut,
-as a head piece to it:--
-
-[Illustration: Bidford Galloway.]
-
-
-
-
-THE MIDFORD GALLOWAY’s RAMBLE.
-
-
-BY THOMAS WHITTLE.
-
-To the Tune of, _Ranting roaring Willy_.
-
-  The routing the earl of Mar’s forces,
-    Has given their neighbours supplies;
-  They’ve stock’d us with Highlanders horses,
-    Like kileys for madness and size:
-  The whirligig-maker of Midford
-    Has gotten one holds such a stear,
-  He’s had worse work with it, I’ll say for’t
-    Than Ecky e’er had with his mear.
-
-  The devil ne’er saw such a gelding
-    As this to be foal’d of a mear;
-  The size ont’s a shame to be teld on,
-    And yet it could skip like a deer;
-  For colour and size (I’m a sinner,
-    I scorn, as the folks say, to slide,)
-  ’Twas just like Hob Trumble’s gimmer,
-    Which he sold for six-pence a side.
-
-  It was a confounded bad liver,
-    Like Ferry the piper’s old cat;
-  It ne’er could be brought to behaviour,
-    Though it has got many a bat;
-  It had been so spoil’d in up-bringing,
-    It vext his poor heart every day;
-  Sometimes with biting and flinging,
-    And sometimes with running away.
-
-  Perhaps it was brought up a Tory,
-    And knew the poor man for a Whig;
-  But just to make short of the story,
-    I’ll tell you one day what it did:
-  When business came thicker and thicker,
-    And would not admit of delay,
-  As fast as the heels on’t could bicker,
-    It scamper’d right northward away.
-
-  O’er rocks, over mountains and ditches,
-    Dike-gutters and hedges it speels;
-  A courser could never keep stretches
-    With it for a large share of heels:
-  From hill unto dale like a fairy,
-    It hurry’d and pranced along,
-  While Geordy was in a quandary,
-    And knew not what way it was gone.
-
-  A day or two after, have at it,
-    He north in pursuit on’t took chase,
-  And like a dub-skelper he trotted,
-    To many strange village and place;
-  All Rothbury forest he ranged,
-    From corner to corner like mad,
-  And still he admired and stranged,
-    What vengeance was gone with his pad.
-
-  He circled about like a ring-worm,
-    And follow’d the scent of his nose,
-  And from Heslyhurst unto Brinkburn,
-    With Fortune the clothier he goes.
-  To honest Tom Fawdon’s the fuller,
-    The rattle-brain’d roisters both went,
-  Tho’ they made the gelding their colour,
-    Another thing was their intent.
-
-  Tom Fawdon soon knew what they wanted,
-    And straightway the table was set,
-  With bread, butter and cheese it was planted,
-    And good ale, as well as good meat;
-  Their grace took but little inditing,
-    ’Twas short and they had it by heart;
-  And they took as little inviting,
-    But strove who should have the fore-start.
-
-  They used no bashful dissembling,
-    But to in a passion did fall,
-  The dishes did by them stand trembling,
-    Their mercy appeared so small:
-  The butter, the cheese, and the bannocks,
-    Dissolved like snow in a fresh,
-  And still as they stuck in their stomachs,
-    With liquor they did them down wash.
-
-  The Dutch, nor the Welsh, nor wight Wallace,
-    Did ever like them show their spleen,
-  The cheese bore the marks of their malice,
-    Their knives and their teeth were so keen.
-  Two stone they destroyed, shame be’n them,
-    And pour’d down their liquor like spouts,
-  Their guts to hold what they put in them,
-    Were drest like a pair of strait boots.
-
-  With bellies top-full to the rigging,
-    I leave them to settle a bit,
-  ’Till making good use of the midding,
-    ‘Do’ bring them unto a right set.
-  Now come we to speak of the gelding,
-    Who knowing that he did offend,
-  Stay’d two or three days about Weldon,
-    To make justice Lisle stand his friend.
-
-  He after that grew so unlucky,
-    On mischief and ill he was bent,
-  He prov’d a right North-country jockey,
-    Still cheating where ever he went.
-  At many men’s charges he dined,
-    But never ask’d what was arrear;
-  Yet no man could get him confined,
-    So slily himself he did clear.
-
-  The town of Longframlington further
-    Can give an account what he is,
-  He came within acting of murder,
-    As near as a horse could to miss;
-  For unto a house he went scudding,
-    And seeing a child all alone,
-  If Providence had not withstood him,
-    He’d struck it as dead as a stone.
-
-  The rest of his acts are recorded,
-    ’Tis nonsense to mention them here;
-  I’ll go back and fetch Geordy forward,
-    He’s tarri’d too long I do fear!
-  From Brinkburn he started and held on,
-    Directly to Framlington town,
-  And then to the miller’s at Weldon,
-    He back o’er the hill tumbled down.
-
-  Not finding the thing that he wanted,
-    Unto Hedleywood he did trot,
-  He was tost like a dog in a blanket,
-    O’er Coquet and back in the boat:
-  All Framlington fields he sought over,
-    And from spot to spot he did run,
-  For fear the grass chanced to cover
-    His pad, as it once did Tom Thumb.
-
-  Then up to John Alders he drabbeth,
-    And there all the night did repose,
-  And then, the next day being Sabbath,
-    Away he to Whittingham goes;
-  Where he to revenge the miscarriage
-    Of his little scatter-brain’d nag,
-  He went to the clerk of the parish,
-    To get him expos’d for a vague.
-
-  The clerk he soon set up his cropping,
-    And made a great bustle and stear;
-  The church-yard appear’d like a hopping,
-    The folks drew about so to hear:
-  He did to a hairs-breadth describe him,
-    And call’d him again and again,
-  And Geordy by four-pence did bribe him,
-    For all the small pains he had ta’n.
-
-  Scarce were the jaw-bones of these asses
-    Well shut, till a Thrunton-bred lad,
-  Eas’d Geordy a bit of his crosses,
-    By bringing him news of his pad:
-  These tidings his spirit renewed,
-    No clerk cou’d his courage controul,
-  But still was resolv’d to pursue it,
-    Suppose it were to the North pole.
-
-  ’Tis past a man’s giving account on,
-    What way he traversed with speed,
-  From Eslington, Whittingham, Thrunton,
-    He past the Broom-park and Hill-head,
-  To Learchild, to Barton, to Branton,
-    And from thence to Mount on the clay,
-  To Fawdon, the Clinch, and to Glanton,
-    And several towns mist by the way.
-
-  There’s Lemington, Abberwick, Bolton,
-    With Woodhall that stands on the fell,
-  And Titlington’s likewise untold on,
-    Where Jacob, of old, dig’d his well;
-  To Harup, to Hidgily and Beanly,
-    He past unto Callaly mill,
-  To Brandon, to Ingram, and Reavely,
-    And Crawley that stands on a hill.
-
-  To Brandon-main, then to the Whitehouse,
-    To Dickison’s where he made league,
-  And articled that for a night-house,
-    To rest a while after fatigue:
-  He drank a while till he grew mellow,
-    And then for his chamber did call,
-  Where sound he may sleep, silly fellow,
-    His travels wou’d weary us all.
-
-  He had an invincible couple
-    Of legs, that did bear him well out,
-  They hung so loose, like a flail-souple,
-    And cudgel’d his buttocks about;
-  No man who’d have thought any hallion
-    Could ever have acted the thing,
-  Without help of Pacolet’s stallion,[46]
-    That when the pin turn’d did take wing.
-
-  Next day rising, rigging and starting,
-    He jogg’d on his journey with speed,
-  To Bewick, the Lilburns, Coldmartin,
-    From thence unto Woolerhaugh-head;
-  To Wooperton, Ilderton, Rodham,
-    And Rosedon, he scudded like mad,
-  Nothing fell by the way that withstood him,
-    Until he had met with his pad.
-
-  Earl was the place where he found him,
-    A blithe sight for Geordy to see;
-  But got the whole town to surround him,
-    Before he his prisoner would be:
-  Then on his back jumping and prancing,
-    He swiftly switcht over the plain,
-  But made him pay dear for his dancing,
-    E’er he got to Midford again.
-
-[46] See the history of Valentine and Orson.
-
-
-
-
-THE INSIPIDS: OR, _The Mistress with her Multitude of Man Servants._
-
-
-BY THOMAS WHITTLE.
-
-  Of all the Kirkharle bonny lasses,
-    If they were set round in a ring,
-  Jane Heymours for beauty surpasses,
-    She might be a match for a king;
-  Her cheeks are as red as a cherry,
-    Her breast is as white as a swan,
-  She is a blyth lass and a merry,
-    And her middle is fit for a man.
-
-  The lads are so fond to be at her,
-    They all run as mad as March hares,
-  This bonny young lass they do flatter,
-    And fall at her feet to their prayers:
-  You never saw keener or stouter,
-    They’ll not be put off with delay,
-  Like bull-dogs they still hang about her,
-    And court her by night and by day.
-
-  Joe Hepple, Will Crudders, Tom Liddle,
-    With twenty or thirty men more,
-  If I could their names but unriddle,
-    At least I might make out two score,
-  That all cast about for to catch her,
-    And make her their own during life;
-  With others that strive to debauch her,
-    Despairing to make her their wife.
-
-  So many love tokens and fancies
-    She gets, that to bring them in view,
-  They’d look like so many romances,
-    And none could believe they were true.
-  I only will mention one favour,
-    And leave you to guess at the rest;
-  An old kenning Edward Hall gave her,
-    Of comforts the choicest and best.
-
-  They venture like people for prizes,
-    And with the same timorous doubt,
-  She has them of all sorts and sizes,
-    That’s constantly sneaking about.
-  Each man speaks her fair, and importunes
-    In all the best language that’s known;
-  And happy were he could tell fortunes,
-    To know if the girl were his own.
-
-  John Robson, Joe Bowman, Will Little,
-    With her would spend nights over days;
-  Each glance of her eyes is so smittle,
-    That all men are catch’d if they gaze:
-  She strikes them quite thro’ with love stitches,
-    And many a poor heart she doth fill;
-  She’s like one of those call’d white witches,
-    That hurts men and means them no ill.
-
-  John Henderson, that honest weaver,
-    And mettled Matt Thomson the smith,
-  Came both from Capheaton to preave her,
-    And court her with courage and pith.
-  Ned Oliver too, and Tom Baxter
-    Spare neither their feet, tongue, or hands,
-  But strive with the rest to contract her
-    In compass of conjugal bands.
-
-  Bob Bewick just makes it his calling
-    Unto her his love to declare;
-  And some’s of that mind that John Rawling
-    Would gladly come in for a share.
-  John Forcing doth praise and commend her,
-    Above any lass that wears head;
-  And fain he would be a pretender,
-    If he had but hopes to come speed.
-
-  Bob Cole strains his wit and invention
-    And compliments to a degree;
-  And twenty that I cannot mention
-    Are all as keen courters as he.
-  She puts them all into such pickle
-    They care not what courses they run,
-  And if (as folks say) she be fickle,
-    ’Tis twenty to one they’re undone.
-
-  Their loves would fill forty hand wallets,
-    If they were cramm’d in at both ends;
-  Their hearts are all sunk like lead pellets,
-    And very small hopes of amends.
-  Great dangers on both sides encreases,
-    Which very destructive may prove;
-  The lass may be all pull’d to pieces,
-    Or all the poor lads die for love.
-
-  But that which supports and preserves them,
-    Their stomachs their best friends do prove;
-  And ’tis not a little meat serves them
-    Since they fell so deeply in love.
-  Their fancies and appetites working,
-    It made them so sharp and so keen,
-  The girls mother lost two butter firkins,
-    They wattell’d away so much cream.
-
-  One day with a good brandy bottle,
-    Two met her about the Heugh Nebb,
-  And there their accounts they did settle,
-    And made all as right as my legg:
-  The snuff-mill and gloves came in season,
-    The want of a glass to supply;
-  They drank the girls first, with good reason,
-    And then the king’s health by the by.
-
-  The Millers Haugh, Heugh Nebb, and Haystack,
-    The Flowers, the New Close, and Decoy,
-  With places whose titles I know not,
-    Where they met to love and enjoy,
-  Would be but too far a digression,
-    And make our fond passions rebell;
-  But, oh! had these places expression,
-    What pretty love tales they could tell!
-
-  So many to her bear affection,
-    And give her such lofty applause,
-  I’m love-sick to hear the description,
-    And wish I could see the sweet cause:
-  ’Tis she that could make all odds even,
-    And bring many wonders to pass;
-  I wish all her sweethearts in heaven,
-    Why I were in bed with the lass!
-
-
-
-
-SAWNEY OGILBY’s DUEL WITH HIS WIFE.
-
-
-BY THOMAS WHITTLE.
-
-To the Tune of, _The worst’s past_.
-
-  Good people, give ear to the fatalest duel
-    That Morpeth e’er saw since it was a town,
-  Where fire is kindled and has so much fuel,
-    I wou’d not be he that wou’d quench’t for a crown.
-  Poor Sawney, as canny a North British hallion,
-    As e’er crost the border this million of weeks,
-  Miscarried, and married a Scottish tarpawlin,
-    That pays his pack-shoulders, and will have the breeks.
-
-  I pity him still when I think of his kindred,
-    Lord Ogelby was his near cousin of late;
-  And if he and somebody else had not hinder’d,
-    He might have been heir unto all his estate.
-  His stature was small, and his shape like a monkey,
-    His beard like a bundle of scallions or leeks;
-  Right bonny he was, but now he’s worn scrunty,
-    And fully as fit for the horns as the breeks.
-
-  It fell on a day, he may it remember,
-    Tho’ others rejoyced, yet so did not he,
-  When tidings was brought that Lisle did surrender,
-    It grieves me to think on’t, his wife took the gee,
-  These bitches still itches, and stretches commission,
-    And if they be crossed they’re still taking peeks,
-  And Sawney, poor man, he was out of condition,
-    And hardly well fit for defending the breeks.
-
-  She mutter’d, and moung’d, and looked damn’d misty,
-    And Sawney said something, as who cou’d forbear?
-  Then straight she began, and went to’t handfisty,
-    She whither’d about, and dang down all the gear:
-  The dishes and dublers went flying like fury,
-    She broke more that day than would mend in two weeks,
-  And had it been put to a judge or a jury,
-    They cou’d not tell whether deserved the breeks.
-
-  But Sawney grew weary, and fain would be civil,
-    Being auld, and unfeary, and fail’d of his strength,
-  Then she cowp’d him o’er the kale-pot with a kevil,
-    And there he lay labouring all his long length.
-  His body was soddy, and sore he was bruised,
-    The bark of his shins was all standing in peaks;
-  No stivat e’er lived was so much misused
-    As sare as auld Sawney for claiming the breeks.
-
-  The noise was so great all the neighbours did hear them,
-    She made his scalp ring like the clap of a bell;
-  But never a soul had the mense to come near them,
-    Tho’ he shouted murder with many a yell.
-  She laid on whisky whasky, and held like a steary,
-    Wight Wallace could hardly have with her kept streaks;
-  And never gave over until she was weary,
-    And Sawney was willing to yield her the breeks.
-
-  And now she must still be observ’d like a madam.
-    She’ll cause him to curvet, and skip like a frog,
-  And if he refuses she’s ready to scad him,
-    Poxtake such a life, it wou’d weary a dog.
-  Ere I were so serv’d, I would see the de’il take her,
-    I hate both the name and the nature of sneaks;
-  But if she were mine I would clearly forsake her,
-    And let her make a kirk and a mill of the breeks.
-
-
-
-
-SONG ON _WILLIAM CARSTAIRS, SCHOOLMASTER._
-
-
-BY THOMAS WHITTLE.
-
-  Ye muses nine, if you think fit,
-    Instruct my pen to write.
-  Apollo, thou great god of wit,
-    Come help me to indite.
-  Let poets, pipers, fidlers come,
-    In priols,[47] or in pairs,
-  And echo forth, as with a _drum_,
-    The praise of Will Carstairs.[48]
-
-  _Imprimus_, then I will proceed
-    His features to disclose,
-  And draw a compass from his head
-    Unto his heels and toes;
-  Some cunning man come lay a spell,
-    And keep me from all snares,
-  That I may keep in compass well,
-    While I describe Carstairs.
-
-  But first I must his pardon crave,
-    For making bold and free,
-  For William was his christian name,
-    And shall be so for me;
-  But manners must to rhymes give place,
-    Or else we spoil our wares;
-  And _Will_ and _William’s_ all one case,
-    And equal to Carstairs.
-
-  His face is like the midnight moon
-    And stars that shine so bright;
-  His nose is like a flaming fire,
-    That casts both heat and light;
-  It sparkles like the Syrian seas
-    When he gets in his airs,
-  A clown has not an heart to buy
-    A beak like Will Carstairs.
-
-  Without a magnifying glass,
-    His neck you cannot see;
-  But if you please to let it pass,
-    It shall be pass’d by me;
-  His shoulders are compact and strong,
-    Made up of rounds and squares,
-  And no small burden e’er could wrong
-    A back like Will Carstairs’.
-
-  Down from his shoulder-blades there springs
-    Two arms both stout and strong,
-  That flap just like a buzzard’s wings
-    As he marcheth along;
-  And from those arms there spring two hands,
-    Well skill’d in magic airs;
-  And William Lilley’s charter stands
-    By such as Will Carstairs.
-
-  He has eight sides, I scorn to slide,
-    I’ll bring them fairly in,
-  The upperside and underside
-    Are two for to begin;
-  There’s backside, foreside, leftside, right--
-    I’ll put them down in pairs--
-  And inside, outside, which make _eight_,
-    Belonging to Carstairs.
-
-  Down from his sides there spring two hips
-    With sturdy well built thighs,
-  Just like a pair of weeding-clips,
-    But of a larger size;
-  His legs they do like supples bend,
-    When he gets in his airs--
-  Right taper’d down from end to end,
-    Few men can match Carstairs.
-
-  His feet are much like other men’s,
-    I guess them by the shoe,
-  They’re neither of the fives nor tens,
-    But just between the two.
-  He’ll trip to Scotland in a trice,
-    For speed he never spares,--
-  There’s few can trip it out so nice
-    As thrifty Will Carstairs.
-
-  He’s near about the standard pitch,
-    As nature can express--
-  They’re lubbers that’s above his size,
-    And dwarfs that’s any less;
-  But tho’ he be not quite so tall
-    To rank ’mong grenadiers,
-  There’s thousands of marines as small
-    As little Will Carstairs.
-
-[47] Priol, _i.e._ three.
-
-[48] Carstairs, though a poor poet, was vain of his abilities as such.
-About the year 1731, Thomas Whittle and he being in a large company
-at the Burnt-house in Newcastle, the conversation turned on their
-respective merits as disciples of the Muses. A wager was soon bet on
-the subject; and it was agreed, that an hour should be allowed for each
-of them to write satyrical verses on the other. The two poets were
-accordingly placed in separate apartments; and at the expiration of the
-time specified, it was determined, by throwing up a halfpenny, which
-of the two should first read his lays: it fell to Whittle’s lot; but
-before he had got to the end, his competitor was so chagrined, that he
-put the concoctions of his less fertile brain in the fire; the wager of
-course was won by Whittle’s party.
-
-
-
-
-THOMAS WHITTLE, HIS HUMOROUS LETTER, TO MASTER MOODY, THE RAZOR-SETTER.
-
-
-_Newcastle on Tyne, May Twenty-nine._
-
-  Good Master Moody,
-  My beard being cloudy,
-  My cheeks, chin, and lips
-  Like moon i’ the ’clipse,
-      For want of a wipe:
-  I’ve sent you a razor,
-  If you’ll be at leisure
-  To grind her, and set her,
-  And make her cut better,
-      You’ll e’en light my pipe.[49]
-
-  Dear sir, you know little
-  The case of poor Whittle--
-  I’m courting Tantivie,
-  If you will believe me,
-      Pray mark what I say:
-  I’m frank in my proffers,
-  And when I make offers,
-  To kiss the sweet creature,
-  My lips cannot meet her.
-      My beard stops the way.
-
-  You’ve heard my condition,
-  And now I petition,
-  That without omission,
-  With all expedition,
-      You’ll give it a _strike_;
-  And send it by ’Tony,
-  He’ll pay you the money--
-  I’ll shave and look bonny,
-  And go to my honey,
-      As snod as you like.
-
-  If you do not you’ll hip me,
-  My sweetheart will slip me,
-  And if I should smart for’t,
-  And break my poor heart for’t
-      Are you not to blame!
-  But if you’ll oblige me,
-  As gratitude guides me,
-  I’ll still be your servant,
-  Obedient and fervent,
-      Whilst WHITTLE’S my name.
-
-[49] A Northumberland phrase, signifying a particular favour done to
-one.
-
-
-
-
-THE LITTLE PRIEST OF FELTON.
-
-
-  The little priest of Felton,
-  The little priest of Felton,
-  He kill’d a mouse within his house,
-  And ne’er a one to help him;
-    To help him, to help him,
-    He kill’d a mouse within his house,
-    And ne’er a one to help him.
-
-
-
-
-THE FELTON GARLAND.
-
-
-_How a Brick-maker at Felton stole a Woman away by her own Consent,
-from her Grandmother._
-
-To the Tune of, _Maggy Lauder_.
-
-  There lives a lass in Felton town,
-    Her name is Jenny Gowen,
-  With the Brick-man she has play’d the lown,
-    So wanton she is grown:
-  The reason why some love the night,
-    _Incognito_ to revel,
-  Is they love darkness more than light,
-    Because their deeds are evil.
-
-  So late at night on Saturday,
-    He thought all safe as brandy,
-  He rigg’d and trigg’d, and rid away
-    Upon John Hinks’s Sandy:
-  To Haggerston he did pretend,
-    Some sweetheart there confin’d him;
-  But he took up, at our town-end,
-    His cloak-bag on behind him.
-
-  Like as the bird that gay would be,
-    As fable hath reported,
-  From each fine bird most cunningly
-    A feather she extorted:
-  Then boasting said, How fine I’m grown!
-    Her painted plumes she shaked,
-  At which each bird pluck’d off their own,
-    And left her almost naked.
-
-  With this kind maid it proved so,
-    Who many things did borrow,
-  To rig her up from top to toe,
-    And deck her like queen Flora.
-  Of one she got a black-silk hood,
-    Her fond light head to cover,
-  Likewise a blue cloak, very good,
-    Her night intrigues to smother.
-
-  Clock stockings she must have (dear wot)
-    In borrow’d shoes she’s kilted,
-  Some lent her a blue petticoat,
-    Both large and bravely quilted.
-  Of some she got a fine linn-smock,
-    Lest Peter shou’d grow canty,
-  And have a stroke at her black joke,
-    With a tante, rante, tante.
-
-  With borrow’d cane, hat on her head,
-    To make her still look greater,
-  She’d make her friends believe indeed,
-    They were all bought by Peter:
-  But when she did return again,
-    In all her boasted grandeur,
-  Each to their own did lay just claim,
-    And left her as they fand her.
-
-  But none can guess at their intent,
-    Why they abroad did swagger,
-  Some said, to see their friends they went,
-    Some said, to Buckle Beggar.
-  Away full four days they stay’d,
-    I think they took their leisure;
-  They past for man and wife, some said,
-    And spent the nights in pleasure.
-
-  When the Black Cock did Sandy see,
-    There was a joyful meeting,
-  That night when I thee lent, quoth he,
-    I wish I had been sleeping:
-  Thou art abused very sore,
-    As any creature can be,
-  And still he cry’d, o’er and o’er,
-    O woe is me for Sandy!
-
-  Then Sandy, mumbling, made reply,
-    You were my loving master,
-  I never did your suit deny,
-    Nor meet with one disaster,
-  Till now unknown to yourself,
-    That I should have this trouble,
-  Or else for neither love nor pelf,
-    You’d let me carry double.
-
-  Poor Sandy was with riding daul’d,
-    He rues he saw their faces,
-  His back and sides they sorely gaul’d,
-    He pay’d for their embraces;
-  But if young Peter’s found her nest,
-    She’ll rue as well as Sandy;
-  And if she proves with child, she best
-    Had tarry’d with her grandy.
-
-
-_How they abused the horse they rid on, and when he married, they went
-off in several people’s debts._
-
-  In second part I will declare
-    The troubles of poor Sandy;
-  And how this couple married were,
-    And how well pleas’d was Grandy.
-  Now first with Sandy I’ll begin,
-    Whose legs swell’d to a wonder,
-  So likewise was his belly rim,
-    Swell’d like to burst asunder.
-
-  And lest his troubles shou’d increase,
-    A farrier was provided,
-  Well skill’d in Markham’s master-piece,
-    Who in this town resided;
-  And, to his everlasting fame,
-    He did exert his cunning,
-  He bled his legs, and in his wame,
-    Two tapps he there set running.
-
-  He several med’cines did apply,
-    Whose virtue was so pure,
-  That in six weeks, or very nigh,
-    He made a perfect cure.
-  And now in all the world besides,
-    There’s not a sounder creature,
-  So well he scampers, and he rides,
-    But never more with Peter.
-
-  Of him I now design to speak,
-    A Yorkshire born and bred, sir,
-  He play’d them all a Yorkshire trick,
-    And then away he fled, sir.
-  As you shall hear when home he came,
-    With Jennet upon Sandy,
-  He to his work return’d again,
-    And she unto her grandy.
-
-  But long with her she tarry’d not,
-    Unsettled was her notion,
-  Just like the pend’lum of a clock,
-    That’s always in a motion.
-  I’ll go to service, she did say,
-    Keep me, you can’t afford it;
-  So one she got, where was it pray?
-    E’en where her spark was boarded.
-
-  Now whether ’twas for want of beds,
-    Or whether ’twas cold weather,
-  Or whether ’twas to measure legs,
-    That they lay both together;
-  But as they smuggl’d for a while,
-    And gave out they were marry’d,
-  Till she at length did prove with child,
-    Then all things were miscarry’d.
-
-  Then he did own his fault was great,
-    He’d make her satisfaction;
-  And fearing penance in a sheet,
-    He’d suffer for that action,
-  He marry’d her without delay,
-    And got their nuptial lesson,
-  Which to confirm they went streightway
-    To get their grandy’s blessing.
-
-  When in her presence they were come,
-    She rail’d at them like thunder,
-  For shame, cries she, what have you done,
-    That’s brought on you this blunder?
-  She call’d her slut and brazen fac’d,
-    Instead of kind caressing,
-  Our family you have disgrac’d,
-    Can you expect a blessing?
-
-  But like a stormy winter’s night,
-    Next morning turns calm weather,
-  So grandy’s passion soon took flight,
-    She pray’d that they together
-  Might live in love and happiness,
-    Enjoying peace and plenty,
-  Long may they health and wealth possess,
-    And pockets ne’er grow empty.
-
-  When they had grandy’s blessing got,
-    They slily fled away, sir,
-  He all the bricks did leave unwrought,
-    And many debts to pay, sir.
-  Now all good people, warning take,
-    How you do trust to strangers,
-  They’ll wheedle you for money’s sake,
-    And still prove country rangers.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-FROM THE SWAINS OF FELTON, TO THE _Shepherds of Lanthernside,
-Northumberland_, 1787.
-
-
-_Tune._--General F--r--’s March.
-
-          He’s gone! he’s gone!
-          The conquering hero’s gone!
-          To barren lands in Lanthernside,
-          To sow Lucern upon.
-  Rejoice ye sons of Lanthernside, and Io pæan sing,
-  Since land-improving F----r vouchsafes to be your king!
-
-          Lucern! Lucern!
-          That best of grass Lucern!
-          Oh! happy swains of Lanthernside,
-          Be far from you concern;
-  For now your sterile rocky soil, where stocks are never seen,
-  Will quickly be converted all, to fields of fruitful green.
-
-          He’ll plant, he’ll plant,
-          A Colony he’ll plant,
-          With plants and beasts of various kinds,
-          Which Lanthernside may want.
-  With here a hardy plant of Oak, and there a plant of Fir,
-  And here an English pointer staunch, and there a shepherd’s cur.
-
-          He’ll sail, he’ll sail,
-          Without a mast or sail,
-          And gently glide by Lanthernside,
-          Before a gentle gale.
-  Your streamlet he will navigate, and bring the flowing tide,
-  From Warkworth’s hoary Hermitage, to dreary Lanthernside.
-
-          He’ll reign, he’ll reign,
-          Without despotic sway;
-          Therefore ye lads of Lanthernside,
-          His dictates all obey.
-  Come all ye wanton wenches, with speed unto him haste,
-  For, tho’ as lewd as Lais, he’ll teach you to be chaste.
-
-          Your game, your game,
-          He will preserve your game!
-          For well in that particular,
-          Abroad is spread his fame!
-  But [50]Biddlestone will curse the day, to Lanthernside he came,
-  For sure as bird e’er fell by gun, he will destroy his game.
-
-          Rejoice! rejoice!
-          Let [51]Felton Park rejoice!
-          For now its lord is free to roam,
-          As chance directs his choice.
-  For F----r like a Briton bold, had circumscrib’d his bounds,
-  And left him but one single mile, to range in his own grounds.
-
-          He’s gone! he’s gone!
-          Alas! our hero’s gone!
-          And left us quite disconsolate,
-          In Felton town to moan!
-  Rejoice ye Lanthernsiders, and Io pæan sing,
-  Since mirth-exciting F----r vouchsafes to be your king.
-
-[50] Mr S---- of Biddlestone.
-
-[51] Mr R---- of Felton.
-
-
-
-
-ON THE DEPARTURE OF MR GREY, OF FELTON, _Who died on Saturday, August
-12th, 1775._
-
-
-          On Saturday,
-          Poor Felton Grey,
-  Went o’er the hills and far away:
-          But none can say,
-          He went away,
-  Without enquiring _what’s to pay_.
-
-
-
-
-CARR OF ETAL.
-
-
-  God prosper long our noble king,
-    Our lives and safeties all;
-  A joyful supper once there did,
-    In Edinbro’ befal.
-
-  To give the gallant Scot a horn,
-    Bold _Etal_[52] took his way,
-  Children to get, which shall be born,
-    Upon another day.
-
-  Bold Etal of Northumberland,
-    A vow to God did make,
-  His pleasure in the Scottish town,
-    Three summer’s days to take.
-
-  The choicest lips in Edinbro’,
-    To kiss and bear away;
-  These tidings reach’d Black Castle’s[53] lord,
-    In Perthshire where he lay.
-
-  Who sent young Etal present word,
-    He would prevent his sport;
-  The Englishman not fearing this,
-    Did to the town resort.
-
-  In reg’ment spotted leopard like,
-    Mov’d with superior grace;
-  And swore he’d take their mistresses,
-    And kiss before their face.
-
-  Sir Patrick, in a silver vest,
-    Most like a gallant knight,
-  Mov’d foremost of the company.
-    And pleas’d the ladies’ sight.
-
-  Shew me, says he, whose men you be,
-    Who come so boldly here;
-  I fain would see that English face,
-    That I have cause to fear.
-
-  The first man that did answer make,
-    Was gallant _Etal_ he,
-  Who said, We list not to disclose,
-    Or shew whose men we be.
-
-  But we will spend our dearest blood,
-    Your toasts to bear away:
-  Sir Pat with anger colour’d red,
-    And thus in rage did say:
-
-  Ere I will thus outbraved be,
-    One of us two shall die;
-  I know thou Carr of Etal art,
-    Black Castle’s heir am I.
-
-  But trust me, Etal, pity ’twere,
-    And great offence to kill,
-  Doory and Swinburn, harmless youths,
-    For they can do no ill.
-
-  Let you and I the battle try,
-    And set our men aside:
-  Accurst be he, bold Etal cried,
-    By whom this is denied.
-
-  Then stept a noble baron forth,
-    Lord Linton was his name;
-  Who said, He would not have it told,
-    To Scottish men for shame;
-
-  That ere Black Castle fought on foot,
-    And he stood looking on;
-  You are two ’squires, lord Linton cried,
-    And I am an earl’s son.
-
-  I’ll do the best that I can do,
-    While I have power to stand;
-  I would not quarrel for a kiss,
-    But Carr, keep back your hand.
-
-  Then Swinburn clapp’d his hands and laugh’d,
-    And jeeringly did say,
-  Stick to ’em Carr, and bear ’em off,
-    For me I’ll drink away.
-
-  Drinking’s the sport that I like best,
-    So push the glasses round;
-  Kiss you the ladies and I’ll drink,
-    These gallants to the ground.
-
-  Oh what a joy it was to see,
-    And likewise for to hear,
-  How Swinburn rattl’d in the van,
-    And Creighton in the rear.
-
-  They drank full fast from night ’till morn,
-    No slackness there was found;
-  And Scots and English hats and wigs,
-    Lay drunk upon the ground.
-
-At Callaly, the seat of the Claverings, tradition reports, that while
-the workmen were engaged in erecting the castle upon a hill, a little
-distance from the scite of the present edifice, they were surprised
-every morning to find their former day’s work destroyed, and the whole
-impeded by supernatural obstacles, which causing them to watch, they
-heard a voice saying:--
-
-  Callaly castle stands on a height,
-  It’s up in the day, and down at night:
-  Build it down on the Shepherd’s Shaw,
-  There it will stand and never fa’.
-
-Upon which the building was transferred to the place mentioned, where
-it now stands.
-
-[52] Carr, Esq. of Etal, in the county of Northumberland.
-
-[53] Sir P. Murray.
-
-
-
-
-BEDLINGTON TRAGEDY. _A FRAGMENT._
-
-
-  In Bedlington there liv’d a fair,
-  (With ruby lips, and auburn hair;)
-  Who dearly priz’d a famous youth,
-  For generous acts and constant truth;
-  But she was heir to store of wealth,
-  No fortune he, but worth himself:
-  This when her parents understood,
-  Hoping it would be for her good,
-  To hinder both their loves intent,
-  To Stokesley, to an uncle sent;
-  At parting, many a sigh and tear,
-  Of love, and truth, thro’ life sincere;
-  Nor death should part; for from the grave
-  Short time should the surviver save:
-  She was not gone a week or more,
-  Until this young man sicken’d sore,
-  He sicken’d sore, and heart-broke died,
-  Which pleas’d her parents’ greedy pride;
-  Who to another would her wed,
-  Forgetful what she’d sworn and said.
-  The eve that he in grave was laid,
-  Thus to his wife the father said,
-  A double feed I’ll give my mare,
-  All other things do thou prepare.
-  Lay out thy hood and safeguard too,
-  Ere light for Stokesley I will go;
-  Before thou seest the morrow night,
-  Thou’lt surely see thy daughter bright;
-  And now no fear, he’s dead and gone,
-  A happy bride we’ll make her soon.
-  It was now that dread midnight hour,
-  When restless ghosts their wrongs deplore.
-  James rode up to her uncle’s door,
-  With her father’s horse they drest before.
-  O who is there? the maiden cries:
-  O it is I, the ghost replies:
-  The horse, hood, safeguard, come and view,
-  You’ll find a messenger most true:
-  Forthwith with me then instant ride,
-  Nor fear nor ill need you betide.
-  When all the uncle understood,
-  Trusting it right and for her good,
-  Help’d her to mount, but made him swear,
-  He’d take her to her father dear.
-  Now when she got him up behind,
-  They travelled faster then the wind;
-  That in two hours, or little more,
-  They came unto her father’s door;
-  And as they did this great haste make,
-  He sore complain’d his head did ache;
-  Her handkerchief she then pull’d out,
-  And tied the same his head about:
-  And as she bound it round his head,
-  My dear, says she, you’re cold as lead;
-  She saw no shadow of her dear,
-  But only of herself and mare.
-  He sets her at her father’s door,
-  And says, your mare has travelled sore;
-  So go you in, and as I’m able,
-  I’ll feed and tend her in your stable.
-  O who is there? the father cries,
-  ’Tis I, the lovely maid replies:
-  Behind young James I’ve hasted here,
-  As order’d by my parents dear.
-  Which made the hair stand on his head,
-  He knowing that the man was dead.
-  Next in the stable then could he
-  No living shape of mankind see;
-  But found his horse all in a sweat,
-  Which put him in a grievous fret.
-
-According to the remainder of this old ballad, (which we have been
-unable to collect) the daughter sickens, takes to her bed, and
-dies, and is buried in the same grave; and, on opening his coffin,
-accordingly as the maid had said, her handkerchief was found tied round
-his head.
-
-
-
-
-Hotspur: A BALLAD; _In the Manner of the Ancient Minstrels._
-
-BY MR WILLIAM RICHARDSON.
-
-
-  The lady sat in leafy bow’r,
-    Near Royal _Sheene’s_ fair dome;
-  The Harper, journeying, westward went,
-    Far, far from friends and home.
-
-  His lyre, in grass-green satchel plac’d,
-    Hung graceful by his side;
-  Th’ harmonious strings oft murm’ring rang,
-    As o’er the heaths he hied.
-
-  In search was he of _Hotspur_ fam’d.
-    With tidings from his dame,
-  His fair lady, the lovely _Kate_,
-    Since chronicled in fame.
-
-  She pin’d the day, she wept the night,
-    For her dear absent lord;
-  And days, and weeks, and months flew o’er,
-    Nor comfort could afford.
-
-  The lady sat by winding Thames,
-    Near where the wand’rer past;
-  And him she beckon’d to draw near
-    And thus the Bard address’d.
-
-  “From whence com’st thou? O! sweet Harper.
-    From whence com’st thou? Tell me;
-  From border of the daring Scot?
-    Art of the North Countrie?”
-
-  “I come not from the fair Scotland;
-    (Yet near green _Cheviot_ roam;)
-  From _Aln’s_ sweet, bosky banks I come;
-    _Northumberland_ my home.”
-
-  “Then freely smite thy sweet, sweet lyre,
-    Thy lyre of far-spread fame;
-  The bold Percy--his castle’s there;
-    Wide swells his warrior name.
-
-  “For thou his harper art I ween;
-    I see gleam on thy vest,
-  Thy paly, cusped, silver moon,
-    The _Saracen’s_ proud crest.
-
-  “His ancestor in fell crusade,
-    For England’s powerful king,
-  Fought manfully, and did from thence,
-    That _Syrian_ trophy bring.”
-
-  With flying touch he swept the strings,
-    And upward turn’d his eye,
-  As if the _genius_ of the song,
-    Inspiring, hover’d nigh.
-
-  His finger caught the master note,
-    And soon his ardent face
-  Beam’d, dignified with native fire
-    Of brave _Northumbria’s_ race.
-
-  He sang the deeds of _Hotspur_ bold,
-    At blood-stain’d _Otterbourne_:
-  And eke the feats of valiant _Ralph_,
-    As furious in his turn.
-
-  Two warrior lords, (and brothers they,)
-    As e’er drew shining brand;
-  Nor from the gory field would flinch,
-    Whilst Valour there might stand.
-
-  And mournful now, he touch’d the harp,
-    And, grieving, oft he sigh’d
-  For _Widdrington_, the mightiest chief
-    That e’er in battle died.
-
-  The _Forster_, _Fenwick_, _Collingwood_,
-    The _Heron_ of renown,
-  High in the ranks of Lord Percy,
-    The war-axe hewed down!
-
-  He sang the acts of other chiefs,
-    That by the _Reedside_ fell;
-  The flow’r of val’rous families
-    That still near _Cheviot_ dwell.
-
-  The heath-hen long, and fallow deer,
-    Their native heights did quit;
-  With warrior-blood th’ attainted sward,
-    Made e’en the gorecock flit!
-
-  The Percies in that vengeful fight,
-    Both, both were pris’ners ta’en;
-  But for the Douglas’ dead bodie
-    Were yielded up again.
-
-  He ceas’d the song, then paused awhile;
-    Down roll’d the silent tear;
-  The lady, smit with sympathy,
-    Could scarce the like forbear.
-
-  Then stifling back the star-like drop,
-    With woman’s winning voice,
-  She ask’d if tidings from his lord
-    Would not his heart rejoice?
-
-  “Perchance,” quoth she, “I may you aid,
-    (Assuage your troubled breast,)
-  For oh! methinks the task is good
-    To comfort the distressed!”
-
-  His kerchief to his furrow’d face
-    He gently did apply,
-  And bright and fervent shone his front,
-    New fire illum’d his eye.
-
-  “But thrice the golden circling sun,
-    Has rubied yonder east,”
-  The lady said, “Since news there came
-    From Shrewsb’ry’s hostile waste.
-
-  “There _Hotspur_ and his valiant band,
-    Oppos’d to _Tudor’s_ ire,
-  Encamped lay, and high their hearts
-    Beat for the conflict dire.”
-
-  So having said, her snowy hand
-    She plac’d across her brow;
-  “Lo! down by _Windingshore’s_ dim vale,
-    A Herald’s coming now.”
-
-  The Herald flew on wings of wind,
-    Swift to the Royal fane;
-  “A victory,” he stoutly cried,
-    “And valiant _Hotspur_ slain!”
-
-  The death-sound pierc’d the Harper’s ear,
-    And instant on the plain
-  He dropt,--as light’ning had him struck,
-    Nor e’er spoke word again.
-
-_August, 1810._
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-LEGEND OF _SEWEN SHIELDS CASTLE._
-
-
-This legendary ballad is an un-embellished versification of an old
-tradition, still current in the vicinity of Sewen Shields Castle, in
-Northumberland.
-
-  Nought but some dæmon’s baleful step
-    For years had pass’d those lands,
-  Where (all its former grandeur fled)
-    An ancient castle stands.
-
-  Where many a lord, and many a knight,
-    And many a baron bold,
-  The meed of valour oft had won,
-    Or tale of love had told.
-
-  Once, too, it held Northumbria’s king
-    In days of former fame:
-  But now no courteous tenants boasts--
-    And Sewen Shields[54] its name.
-
-  And there, too, superstition’s spell
-    Had cast its gloom around:
-  And none for years had ever been
-    Within its precincts found--
-
-  Till Dixon,[55] young advent’rous swain,
-    Who fear’d no mortal arm,
-  Had vow’d to search the site throughout,
-    And find the hidden charm.
-
-  The morning frown’d: he made th’ attempt;
-    And darker still it grew:
-  And, when he reach’d the castle walls,
-    The owls portentous flew.
-
-  No well-fed porter now was seen
-    Within the court to wait:
-  And weeds and mould’ring stones appear’d,
-    Where stood the lofty gate.
-
-  He cross’d the damp deserted halls:
-    He spoke--but all in vain;
-  For Echo, from the ruin’s verge,
-    Return’d his words again.
-
-  Through many a passage long and dark
-    His weary steps he bent:
-  At length a flight of stairs he saw,
-    And tried the deep descent.
-
-  He felt unwholesome dewy cold,
-    Yet still pursued his way--
-  Resolv’d ’till he had all explor’d,
-    No more to view the day.
-
-  At length a gleam of light he saw;
-    A ray of warmth he found:
-  And down the stairs he quickly was,
-    And trod upon the ground;
-
-  And soon, within a chamber large,
-    A blazing fire perceiv’d;
-  And by its flames a sight he saw,
-    Which else he’d ne’er believ’d.
-
-  A king and queen, in regal state,
-    Were there by Morpheus chain’d:
-  And o’er the train of courtiers too
-    The same still slumber reign’d.
-
-  And round the fire some faithful dogs
-    Their fortunes seem’d to share:
-  And, on a table near, a sword
-    And horn were placed there.
-
-  As from the scabbard then, with might,
-    The blade to draw he tries,
-  As it unsheath’d, with awe he sees
-    The sleepers all arise.
-
-  Struck with amaze, he put it back.--
-    The monarch, pierc’d with woe,
-  E’er he return’d to death-like sleep,
-    Thus spoke in accents slow:
-
-  “A curse, O Dixon, light on thee!
-    Why wast thou ever born?
-  Why did thou not the sword draw out,
-    Or wind the bugle horn?
-
-  “On them our wish’d release depends.--
-    A cent’ry now must fly,
-  Before a mortal can again
-    To break th’ enchantment try.”
-
-  And now, oppress’d by slumbers dire,
-    He sank, till kinder fate
-  Should send some knight, who might restore
-    His former envied state.
-
-  For Dixon, who these wonders saw,
-    And hope both rais’d and crush’d,
-  Soon left th’ apartment, as at first,
-    In solemn silence hush’d.
-
-  And never since, as records say,
-    Has mortal ventur’d there;
-  But all, with superstitious dread,
-    The sleeping king revere.
-
-[54] Sewen Shields, or Shewing Sheels, about 28 miles west of
-Newcastle, is a Roman Castle, 22 yards by 30, having entrances on the
-east, south, and west, with a foss on three sides, remarkably bold; and
-on the fourth Serverus’s wall. It has had four turrets, one at each
-corner. See _Hutton’s Desc. of the Rom. Wall_.
-
-[55] The name of the shepherd to whom tradition records this
-circumstance to have occurred.
-
-
-
-
-The following old Northumbrian ballad was taken down from the
-recitation of a woman eighty years of age, mother to one of the miners
-in Alston-moor, by an agent for the lead mines there, and communicated
-to the Editor by Robert Surtees, Esquire, of Mainsforth. She had not,
-she said, heard it for many years; but when she was a girl, it used to
-be sung at merry makings, “till the roof rung again.”
-
-
-_N.B._ This ballad was first printed in Scott’s celebrated Poem of
-MARMION, with several valuable notes; for which see the notes to canto
-first of that Poem.
-
-  Hoot awa’, lads, hoot awa’,
-  Ha’ ye heard how the Ridleys, and Thirwalls, and a’,
-  Ha’ set upon Awbony[56] Featherstonhaugh,
-  And taken his life at the Deadmanshaugh;
-        There was Willimoteswick,
-        And Hardriding Dick,
-  And Hughie of Hawden, and Will of the Wa’,
-        I canno’ tell a’, I canno’ tell a’,
-  And mony a mair that the deil may knaw.
-
-  The auld man went down, but Nicol, his son,
-  Ran away afore the fight was begun;
-        And he run, and he run,
-        And afore they were done,
-  There was many a Featherston gat sic a stun,
-  As never was seen since the world begun.
-
-  I canna’ tell a’, I canna’ tell a’;
-  Some gat a skelp, and some gat a claw;
-  But they gard the Featherstons haud their jaw,--
-        Nicol, and Alick, and a’.
-  Some gat a hurt, and some gat nane;
-  Some had harness, and some gat sta’en.
-
-        Ane gat a twist o’ the craig;
-        Ane gat a bunch o’ the wame;
-        Symy Haw gat lam’d of a leg,
-        And syne ran wallowing hame.
-
-  Hoot, hoot, the auld man’s slain outright!
-  Lay him now wi’ his face down:--he’s a sorrowful sight.
-        Janet, thou donot,
-        I’ll lay my best bonnet,
-  Thou gets a new gude-man afore it be night.
-
-  Hoo away, lads, hoo away,
-  Wi’s a’ be hangid if we stay.
-    Tak’ up the dead man, and lay him ahint the bigging;
-  Here’s the Bailey o’ Haltwhistle,
-  Wi’ his great bull’s pizzle,
-    That sup’d up the broo’, and syne--in the piggin.
-
-[56] The local pronunciation for Albany.
-
-
-
-
-_The following Lines are cut on a Tombstone in Haltwhistle Church Yard,
-Northumberland._
-
-
-  Ihon Redle that som tim did be,
-    The laird of the Waltoun;
-  Gon is he out of thes vale of misery,
-    His bons lies under this ston.
-  We must beleve be God’s mersy,
-    Into thes world gave hes son;
-  Then for to redem al christens,
-    So Christ haes hes soul woon.
-  All faithful peple may be faen,
-    When dath coms, that non can fre:
-  The bode kept the soul in paen,
-    Through Christ is set at liberte.
-  Among blesed compane to remaen,
-    To slep in Christ nowe is he gon;
-  Yet stil beleves to hav again,
-    Though Christ a jouful resurrecshon.
-  Al frends ma be glad to hear,
-    When hes soul from paen did go:
-  Out of this world as doeth appear,
-    In the year of our Lord, 1562.
-
-_N.B._ The above John Ridley is supposed to have been brother to
-Bishop Ridley, who was burnt at Oxford, October 16th, 1555, he was the
-possessor of, and lived at Wall-town, and was one of the ancestors of
-the present Sir Matthew White Ridley, of Blagdon, in Northumberland,
-M.P. for Newcastle.
-
-
-
-
-LINES _Written at an Inn, in that very retired and romantic Part of
-Northumberland, the Banks of the ALLAN._
-
-
-BY GEORGE PICKERING.
-
-_November, 1787._
-
-  Howl on ye winds, and beat ye rains,
-    Ye torrents roar o’er yonder linn,
-  And Allen swell thy rapid stream,
-    I careless view thee from an Inn.
-
-  The trees that late appear’d so green,
-    To drop their foliage now begin:
-  They waft a moral to mine ear,
-    While pensive sitting at an Inn.
-
-  See winter comes with all his train,
-    I hear his loud, his arctic din:
-  Why let him come, I fear him not,
-    I sit in comfort at an Inn.
-
-  When age, life’s winter, shall appear,
-    Then reason whispers from within;
-  Eternity’s our wish’d for home,
-    The world at best is but an Inn.
-
-
-
-
-LUCY GRAY OF ALLENDALE.
-
-
-  Oh, have you seen the blushing rose,
-    The blooming pink, or lilly pale,
-  Fairer than any flow’r that blows
-    Is Lucy Gray of Allendale.
-
-  Pensive and sad o’er braes and burn,
-    Where oft the nymph they us’d to hail;
-  The shepherds now are heard to mourn,
-    For Lucy Gray of Allendale.
-
-  With her to join the rural dance,
-    Far have I stray’d o’er hill and dale,
-  Where, pleas’d, each rustic stole a glance,
-    At Lucy Gray of Allendale.
-
-  ’Twas underneath yon hawthorn shade,
-    That first I told the tender tale,
-  But now low lays the lovely maid,
-    Sweet Lucy Gray of Allendale.
-
-  Bleak blows the wind, keen beats the rain,
-    Upon my cottage in the vale;
-  Long may I mourn, a lonely swain,
-    For Lucy Gray of Allendale.
-
-
-
-
-HALTWHISTLE FAIR.
-
-
-  The day was quite pleasant, the Fourteenth of May,
-  When most of the neighbours began to look gay,
-  Such brushing, and washing, and dressing was there,
-  And nothing was talk’d of but Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  You may be quite sure I was pleas’d to the heart,
-  To think I was going there to act my part;
-  While pleasure is going, I will have my share,
-  And see the nice lasses at Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  Old Hetelwood briskly attended his boat,
-  And jested the Ladies while they were afloat;
-  He landed them all with a great deal of care,
-  And wish’d them all sweethearts at Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  We enter’d the town with a great deal of glee,
-  Where hawkers and pedlers in scores you might see:
-  The task would be endless to tell of the ware
-  They had put up for sale at Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  The spade and the shuttle neglected they lay,
-  The tailor his trimmings and cloth put away,
-  The smith threw his hammer down--You may lie there,
-  For this day I’ll make one at Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  The man in the barn he threw down his flail,
-  And came to this place for a drink of good ale;
-  The coal-pits were empty, no person was there,
-  They went like their neighbours to Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  Old women on crutches, who hardly could go,
-  Who had kept their beds for a twelvemonth or so,
-  With grey beards, whose noddles were hoary or bare,
-  All came for a look at old Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  Some people, they say, were so very keen,
-  As came with a view but to see and be seen,
-  And got so well pleas’d, they did vow and declare,
-  They never again would miss Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  You have heard of Miss Bouncer, without any doubt,
-  What beauty she is from the head to the foot:
-  No business whatever had I, I declare,
-  But to see the dear creature at Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  I looked about, my dear charmer to see,
-  I gaz’d at the crowd, and the crowd gaz’d at me;
-  At length I espy’d her--My dear, are you there?
-  I’m happy to see you at Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  While music is going, I will have a dance,
-  So took in my fair one to caper and prance;
-  She danc’d a nice jig, keeping time to a hair,
-  And beat all the lasses at Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  Miss Bouncer was so very loving and kind,
-  She smil’d in my face, while she drank up my wine;
-  Of punch and of cakes, oh my dear had her share,
-  And I paid expences at Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  So kind and so loving, what less could I do,
-  Than buy the dear creature a fairing or two;
-  Some things that she fancied, I paid for I swear.
-  Says she, I shall oft think on Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  With very good judgment, and very good sense,
-  I brought down my shillings to so many pence:
-  And sometime near midnight it fell to my share,
-  To see home Miss Bouncer, from Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-  I will grow very careful, and that you shall see,
-  To try if Miss Bouncer and me can agree;
-  Each shilling and sixpence I will hurd up with care,
-  In hopes for to spend them next Haltwhistle Fair.
-
-
-
-
-ANNA OF THE TYNE.
-
-
-  A bonny swain, blithe Sandy nam’d,
-    Who’d muckle land and kine,
-  A lassie lov’d, for beauty fam’d,
-    Fair Anna of the Tyne.
-  And thus would Sandy joyous sing,
-    “Fair maid, O be but mine;
-  More blest I’d be than laird or king,
-    With Anna of the Tyne.”
-
-  “Kind youth,” she cried, “nae kine or land,
-    Nor money I’ve in store;
-  Then cease to ask my humble hand,
-    Nor wed a maid so poor.”
-  Yet still would Sandy joyous sing,
-    “Fair maid, O be but mine;
-  More blest I’d be than laird or king,
-    With Anna of the Tyne.”
-
-  “For Anna thou art rich in charms,
-    The wealth of worlds to me;
-  Then wed, and bless thy lover’s arms.”
-    She smil’d, and blest was he.
-  How rapturous then did Sandy sing,
-    “Now, now, the fair one’s mine;
-  I am more bless’d then laird or king,
-    With Anna of the Tyne!”
-
-
-
-
-THE TYNE.
-
-
-_By Henry Robson._--1807.
-
-Henry Robson, the author of this, as also of the _Collier’s Pay Week_,
-see page 38, was born at Benwell, near Newcastle; and is now residing
-at the latter place, where, besides the above, he has written several
-pieces of poetry, possessing a considerable degree of merit.
-
-
-  In Britain’s blest island there runs a fine river,
-    Far fam’d for the _ore_ it conveys from the mine:
-  Northumbria’s pride, and that district doth sever
-    From Durham’s rising hills, and ’tis called--_The Tyne_.
-      Flow on, lovely Tyne, undisturb’d be thy motion,
-        Thy sons hold the threats of proud France in disdain;
-      As long as thy waters shall mix with the ocean,
-        The fleets of Old England will govern the main.
-
-  Other rivers for fame have by poets been noted
-    In many a soft-sounding musical line;
-  But for _sailors_ and _coals_ never one was yet quoted,
-    Could vie with the choicest of rivers--the Tyne.
-      Flow on, lovely Tyne, &c.
-
-  When Collingwood conquer’d our foes so completely,
-    And gain’d a fine laurel his brow to entwine;
-  In order to manage the matter quite neatly,
-    Mann’d his vessel with tars from the banks of the Tyne.
-      Flow on, lovely Tyne, &c.
-
-  Thou dearest of rivers, oft times have I wander’d
-    Thy margin along when oppressed with grief,
-  And thought of thy stream, as it onward meander’d,
-    The murmuring melody gave me relief.
-      Flow on, lovely Tyne, &c.
-
-  From the fragrant wild-flowers which blow on thy border
-    The playful Zephyrus oft steals an embrace,
-  And curling thy surface in beauteous order,
-    The willows bend forward to kiss thy clear face.
-      Flow on, lovely Tyne, &c.
-
-  One favour I crave--O kind Fortune befriend me--
-    When downhill I totter, in nature’s decline;--
-  A competent income--if this thou wilt send me,
-    I’ll dwindle out life on the banks of the Tyne.
-      Flow on, lovely Tyne, undisturb’d be thy motion,
-        Thy sons hold the threats of proud France in disdain;
-      As long as thy waters shall mix with the ocean,
-        The fleets of Old England will govern the main.
-
-
-
-
-THE SPRING.
-
-
-_Written the beginning of May, 1809._
-
-BY HENRY ROBSON.
-
-  Now the feathered train in each bush,
-    Court their mates, and love’s melody sing--
-  The blackbird, the linnet, and thrush,
-    Make the echoing vallies to ring:
-
-  The bird with the crimson-dy’d breast,
-    From the hamlet has made his remove;
-  To join his love-song with the rest,
-    And woo his fond mate in the grove.
-
-  The lark, high in æther afloat,
-    Each morn, at the usher of day,
-  Attunes his wild-warbling throat,
-    And sings his melodious lay.
-
-  Yon bank lately cover’d with snow,
-    Now smiles in the spring’s bloomy pride;
-  And the sweet-scented primroses grow,
-    Near the streamlet’s sweet-gurgling tide.
-
-  To the banks of the Tyne we’ll away,
-    And view th’ enrapturing scene;
-  While Flora, the goddess of May,
-    With her flow’rets bespangles the green.
-
-
-
-
-THE BANKS OF THE TYNE.
-
-
-BY JAMES WILSON.
-
-James Wilson, the author of this, and the four following poetical
-pieces, belonged to Hexham, where he taught school until he removed to
-Morpeth, under pecuniary embarrassment: while here, he found a friend
-in the late Wallis Ogle, Esq. and was by him conducted to Cawsey Park
-School, where he shortly after died. When at Hexham, he published a
-volume of Poems printed by T. Angus, Newcastle, in 1778.
-
-  Apollo, your aid I request,
-    Direct and embellish each line;
-  With influence warm my breast,
-    To sing the sweet Banks of the Tyne.
-
-  If Phœbus proposes the theme,
-    Both reason and duty combine,
-  To pay my respects to the stream,
-    And honour the Banks of the Tyne.
-
-  Here oft with great pleasure I stray,
-    Nor ever find cause to repine,
-  While Nature’s rich beauties display
-    Themselves on the Banks of the Tyne.
-
-  Here Liberty’s pleas’d to resort,
-    Her banners with lustre here shine;
-  No place, since she left the vile court,
-    Can please like the Banks of the Tyne.
-
-  Her sons are with Liberty fir’d,
-    Their Freedom they’ll never resign;
-  But what their forefathers acquir’d,
-    Defend on the Banks of the Tyne.
-
-  The man let me freely explain,
-    Who would as a senator shine,
-  ’Tis THERON, who holds his domain
-    Enclos’d by the Banks of the Tyne.
-
-
-
-
-_The following ODE, addressed to Sir WALTER BLACKETT, Bart. was wrote
-by the Author, on the very Day that the Building of HEXHAM BRIDGE was
-undertaken._
-
-
-BY JAMES WILSON.
-
-  Ye sacred nine descend,
-  Aid to my muse O lend,
-      Whilst I rehearse:
-  Bind round my head the bays,
-  My humble genius raise,
-  And teach me how to praise
-      BLACKETT, in verse.
-
-  Hard is the task impos’d,
-  Glorious the end propos’d;
-      Hark! it succeeds:
-  Heaven would surely frown,
-  And with contempt look down,
-  Should we forget to own
-      His noble deeds.
-
-  _Hexham_ no more shall weep,
-  At Tyne’s redundant sweep,
-      And pregnant shore;
-  _Blackett_ the path will pave,
-  Which scorns the threat’ning wave,
-  Where all with joy will have
-      Safe passage o’er.
-
-  See him with ev’ry age,
-  Soft’ning the bitter rage,
-      Of Poverty:
-  As he approaches nigh,
-  Ope the strong bolts do fly,
-  To set, with heart-felt joy,
-      The wretched free.
-
-  Titus the great did say,
-  Gods! I have lost a day:
-      Fatal mistake;
-  _Blackett_ more great than he,
-  Never that day can see,
-  But numbers chearfully,
-      Sing for his sake.
-
-  May Heaven his life prolong,
-  To swell the Poet’s song
-      Till there arise,
-  One that’s as good as he,
-  Then let him wafted be,
-  To spend eternity,
-      Above the skies.
-
-
-
-
-_The following Lines, written on laying the Foundation-stone of HEXHAM
-BRIDGE, the Author had the Honour to read at the Head of the Table,
-at the sumptuous Entertainment given by Sir WALTER BLACKETT, on the
-Occasion_.
-
-
-BY JAMES WILSON.
-
-  Unsullied mirth attend this feast,
-  Let joy shine forth in every guest,
-      And ev’ry face look gay:
-  Let not a cloud depress the scene,
-  But all look chearful and serene,
-      ’Tis our rejoicing day.
-
-  Come, Joy, with all thy smiling train,
-  Here take thy rest, securely reign,
-      See Phœbus shines more bright;
-  Here will we this great day adorn,
-  Till Cynthea with her silver horn,
-      Illuminates the night.
-
-  A bridge o’er Tyne! our joy’s complete,
-  With rapture we its author greet,
-      Our breasts exult and sing;
-  This bliss consummates all our care.
-  Now Hexham and Elysium are,
-      But two words for one thing.
-
-
-
-
-A SONG, _Composed by MR JAMES WILSON, of Cawsey Park, on Mr
-Coughron[57] and Family, leaving Hebron Hill_.
-
-
-(Dated 4th May, 1784.)
-
-  To fertile soil, and fragrant air,
-    Be it, great God, thy will
-  To guard, with thy parental care,
-    My friends of Hebron Hill.
-
-  In some luxuriant calm retreat,
-    Where nature may instil
-  Her choicest charms--there make a seat
-    For those of Hebron Hill.
-
-  Bestow, by thy all-bounteous hand,
-    The richest turf to till;
-  And crops increase at thy command,
-    To those of Hebron Hill.
-
-  May providence protect them, there,
-    And virtue’s vest their will:
-  And copious comforts ever share,
-    With those of Hebron Hill.
-
-  With friendly neighbours let them live,
-    Renown’d for wit and skill;
-  And grace, and glory, amply give,
-    Those now on Hebron Hill.
-
-  My heart expands by lib’ral love,
-    ’Twill with fruition fill,
-  If pristine powers propitious prove,
-    To all at Hebron Hill.
-
-[57] Brother of George Coughron, the celebrated mathematician, who died
-at Newcastle, 7th January, 1774, Aged 21.
-
-
-
-
-HOBBY ELLIOTT.
-
-
-This song is said to have been written by a Mr James Robson, Stone
-Mason, at Thropton, near Rothbury, who was leader of the band in the
-Pretender’s Army, in 1715: he wrote a Satyr on Women, and several other
-pieces, while confined prisoner at Preston, in Lancashire.
-
-  O bonny Hobby Elliott,
-    O canny Hobby still,
-  O bonny Hobby Elliott,
-    Who lives at Harlow-hill:
-
-  Had Hobby acted right,
-    As he has seldom done,
-  He would have kiss’d his wife,
-    And let his maid alone.
-
-
-
-
-THE RISING OF THE CLANS IN 1715.
-
-
-Though this may be considered a Scotch song, yet mentioning several
-Northumberland families, warrants its insertion here. Several notes
-and particulars illustrating it may be found in the History of the
-Rebellion in the year 1715, by Robert Patten, Priest of Allendale, who,
-though one of the Rebels, saved his life by being evidence against his
-associates, and writing, what he called, An Impartial Account of the
-Rebellion.
-
-  Little wat ye wha’s coming,
-  Little wat ye wha’s coming,
-  Little wat ye wha’s coming,
-  Long Tommy Lee’s a coming.
-
-  Duncan’s coming, Donald’s coming,
-  Colin’s coming, Ronald’s coming,
-  Dougal’s coming, Lauchlan’s coming,
-  Alaster and a’s coming.
-    Little wat ye wha’s coming,
-    Jock and Tam and a’s coming.
-
-  Borland and his men’s coming,
-  The Camerons and McLeans’ coming,
-  The Gordons and McGregors’ coming,
-  A’ the Dunywastles’ coming,
-    Little wat ye wha’s coming,
-    McGilvrey of Drumglass is coming.
-
-  Wigton’s coming, Nithsdale’s coming,
-  Carnwath’s coming, Kenmure’s coming,
-  Derwentwater and Foster’s coming,
-  Widdrington and Nairn’s coming.
-    Little wat ye wha’s coming,
-    Blyth Cowhill and a’s coming.
-
-  The Laird of McIntosh is coming,
-  McCarbie and McDonald’s coming,
-  The McKenzies and McPhersons’ coming.
-  A’ the wild McCraws’ coming.
-    Little wat ye wha’s coming,
-    Donald Gun and a’s coming.
-
-  They gloom, they glowr, they look sae big,
-  At ilka stroke they’ll fell a Whig;
-  They’ll fright the fuds of the Pockpuds,
-  For mony a buttock bare’s coming.
-    Little wat ye wha’s coming.
-
-
-
-
-ON THE FIRST REBELLION.--1715.
-
-
-  Mackintosh was a soldier brave,
-  And of his friends he took his leave,
-  Towards Northumberland he drew,
-  Marching along with a jovial crew.[58]
-
-  The lord Derwentwater he did say,
-  Five hundred guineas he would lay,
-  To fight the militia, if they would stay,
-  But they prov’d cowards and ran away.
-
-  The earl of Mar did vow and swear,
-  That if e’er proud Preston he did come near,
-  Before the right should starve and the wrong stand,
-  He’d blow them into some foreign land.
-
-  The lord Derwentwater he did say,
-  When he mounted on his dapple grey,
-  I wish that we were at home with speed,
-  For I fear we are all betray’d indeed.
-
-  Adzounds, said Forster,[59] never fear,
-  For the Brunswick army is not near;
-  If they should come, our valour we’ll show,
-  We will give them the total overthrow.
-
-  The lord Derwentwater then he found,
-  That Forster drew his left wing round;
-  I wish I was with my dear wife,
-  For now I do fear I shall lose my life.
-
-  Mackintosh he shook his head,
-  To see the soldiers there lie dead:
-  It is not so much for the loss of those,
-  But I fear we are all took by our foes.
-
-  Mackintosh was a valiant soldier,
-  He carried his musket on his shoulder:
-  Cock your pistols, draw your rapier,
-  And damn you, Forster, you are a traitor.
-
-  The lord Derwentwater to Forster did say,
-  Thou hast prov’d our ruin this very day;
-  Thou hast promised to stand our friend,
-  But thou hast proved a rogue in the end.
-
-  The lord Derwentwater to Litchfield did ride,
-  In his coach, and attendance by his side;
-  He swore if he dy’d by the point of a sword,
-  He’d drink a health to the man he lov’d.
-
-  Thou Forster has brought us from our own home,
-  Leaving our estates for others to come;
-  Thou treacherous rogue, thou hast betray’d:
-  We are all ruin’d, lord Derwentwater said.
-
-  The lord Derwentwater he was condemn’d,
-  And near unto his latter end,
-  And then his lady she did cry,
-  My dear Derwentwater he must die.
-
-  The lord Derwentwater he is dead,[60]
-  And from his body they took his head;
-  But Mackintosh and some others are fled,
-  Who’d set the hat on another man’s head.
-
-[58] Mackintosh’s Battalion consisted of thirteen companies of fifty
-men each.
-
-[59] Thomas Forster, jun. of Etherston, near Belford, in
-Northumberland, member of Parliament of the said county, was made
-general of the Pretender’s Army; he was taken prisoner at Preston, but
-afterwards escaped out of Newgate, 1716.
-
-[60] James Radclyffe, Earl of Derwentwater, was beheaded on Tower Hill,
-24th February, 1715-16.
-
-
-
-
-_A FRAGMENT of a Song, on the LORD of DERWENTWATER_.
-
-
-  The king has written a broad letter,
-    And seal’d it up with gold;
-  And sent it to the lord of Derwentwater,
-    To read it if he would.
-
-  He sent it with no boy, no boy,
-    Nor yet with e’er a slave;
-  But he sent it with as good a knight,
-    As e’er a king could have.
-
-  When he read the three first lines,
-    He then began to smile;
-  And when he read the three next lines,
-    The tears began to sile.
-
-
-
-
-VERSES _On a perspective View of Dilston Hall, the Seat of the
-unfortunate James, Earl of Derwentwater._
-
-
-  How mournful feeble Nature’s tone,
-    When Dilston Hall appears:
-  Where none’s to wait the orphan’s moan,
-    Nor dry the widow’s tears!
-
-  The helpless aged poor survey,
-    This building as it stands;
-  In moving anguish heard to say,
-    (And weeping wring their hands)
-
-  The bounteous earl, he is no more,
-    Who once adorn’d this plain;
-  Reliev’d the needy at his door,
-    And freely did sustain.
-
-  Here flowing plenty once did reign,
-    Which gladden’d ev’ry face;
-  But now, alas! reversed scene,
-    For owls a dwelling place.
-
-  The tim’rous deer hath left the lawn,
-    The oak a victim falls;
-  The gentle trav’ler sighs when shewn,
-    These desolated walls.
-
-  Each gen’rous mind emotion feels,
-    With pious pity mov’d;
-  No breast its anguish yet conceals,
-    For one so well belov’d.
-
-  Let no unhallow’d tongue, or servile slave,
-  Their partial clamour vent beyond the grave;
-  But let the noble Dead his honours wear;
-  His fault deplore, his virtue still revere:
-  Tho’ err he did, he finish’d the debate,
-  With his own blood, and Radclyffe’s fair estate.
-  The aged farmer, tott’ring o’er the green,
-  Leans on his staff, recounts the days he’s seen:
-  Informs the list’ning youth by his record,
-  How bless’d his roof, how plenteous was his board;
-  Nor rack’d by Derwent’s hospitable lord.
-  He stops his tale, involv’d in grief profound;
-  He sighs, he weeps, and feebly strikes the ground;
-  Cries, why rehearse these golden days of yore,
-  Since they to me, to me can be no more!
-  The clement heart, and curious, often calls
-  To view the naked park, and stripped walls:
-  E’en the damp walls their stony tears impart,
-  As if their master’s wound had pierc’d their heart.
-  Ye pensive mutes, ’tentive on Dilston wait,
-  And mourn, eternal Radclyffe’s tragic fate!
-
-
-
-
-HEXHAM WOOD.
-
-
-  In former times where Hexham town doth stand,
-  A wood there was which cover’d miles of land;
-  Even all the trees that on the common stood,
-  Were merely twigs compar’d to this great wood.
-  In all directions on each side of Tyne,
-  More boundless than the noted Apennine;
-  And by some modern authors ’tis agreed,
-  Some branches of this wood are planted near to Tweed.
-
-  These northern parts confess’d it’s balmy shade,
-  An asylum to those reduced in trade:
-  Resource they found--the charter was so good,
-  They were secure if shelter’d by this wood.
-  In Sherwood Forest many a prank was play’d,
-  Which thro’ tradition is to us display’d:
-  Though Hexham could ne’er boast a Robin Hood,
-  Yet little John did much frequent this wood.
-
-  A motley race--the libertine and harlot,
-  Supplied the place of Stutely and Will Scarlet.
-  Within the covert of this wood did rove,
-  The town bred bucks, with sly intrigues of love:
-  The yielding females felt an equal flame,
-  To taste love’s joys when near this wood they came;
-  Nor justice fac’d, nor e’er a penance stood,
-  The offspring still was call’d by name of wood.
-
-  A wood so much renown’d, you may be sure
-  The Bank of England was’nt thought more secure.
-  The miser here, his interest found so good,
-  He quite forgot that wood was only wood!
-  How fleeting are the joys of all this world,
-  How soon our hopes are all to Chaos hurl’d:
-  A storm near equal unto Noah’s flood,
-  Relentless came, and swept away this wood.
-
-  Even not one solid trunk there did remain,
-  All batter’d remnants scatter’d o’er the plain:
-  The nymphs lamenting for their dear resort,
-  This wood is gone, alas! our chief support;
-  All was confusion both to high and low,
-  At this most sad and unexpected blow.
-  Ye empty fops, now take the hint for good,
-  No more your offspring can be laid to wood.
-
-_Hexham, 28th February, 1803._
-
-
-
-
-THE LOYAL HEXHAM VOLUNTEERS.
-
-
-_A NEW SONG._
-
-WRITTEN BY JASPER POTTS.
-
-  Britannia scarce had planted the olive on our isle,
-  Ere French insidious policy our future hopes beguile;
-  Regardless of their former league, bent on despotic sway,
-  Each British subject’s property they think to make their prey.
-            But may each loyal Briton
-            Now offer hand and heart,
-            To frustrate their intention,
-            And humble Bonaparte.
-
-  Our island still was loyal when dangers were at hand,
-  Uniting in one common cause to guard our native land:
-  Amongst the rest, the gallant sons of Hexham’s worth record,
-  Our sea girt isle, for to protect, and peace to have restor’d.
-            And may each faithful subject
-            Profess the same intent,
-            Our lives and properties to guard
-            In peace and sweet content.
-
-  The oath that we have taken, which some seem much to fear,
-  Is the duty of each subject as well as volunteer,
-  Tho’ we may have no property to fall a prey to France,
-  Yet for our friends and families our service should advance.
-            Ye loyal lads of Hexham,
-            Since danger now appears,
-            Join the arm’d association
-            Call’d the Hexham Volunteers.
-
-  While Captain Carr commands we will stand firm and true,
-  His knowledge as an officer will stand a strict review,
-  In spite of party slander, our oath we will maintain,
-  Obedient to our officers, and peace for to regain.
-            And if an opportunity
-            Of courage for to shew,
-            I hope the Hexham Volunteers
-            Will to their oath stand true.
-
-  So to conclude these lines I’ve made, I hope you’ll all agree,
-  And drink a health to Captain Carr, and all his family,
-  And to our other officers, much praise to whom is due,
-  And to the Hexham Volunteers, so loyal and so true.
-            British courage once again
-            To England peace restore,
-            And plant the olive in a soil
-            More lasting than before.
-
-
-
-
-THE JOLLY PARSON.
-
-
-  Doctor Moff once more employs the burden of my song,
-  He drinks a health to him that’s blest with constitution strong:
-  He laughs and winks at him that drinks, and he’ll bett five pounds, sir,
-  He’ll toast his lass, and drink his glass, and tally O the hounds, sir.
-
-  And every morn this priest does rise, he does put on his boots, sir,
-  For chance the hounds may come this way, to join in the pursuit, sir:
-  He’ll risk a fall, o’er hedge or wall, or nearest the hounds, sir,
-  And if he can, he leads the van, and tally O the hounds, sir.
-
-  Saint Stephen’s day, that holy morn, as he was reading mass sir,
-  He heard the music of the hounds, the bugles they came past, sir;
-  He shut the book, his flock forsook, and streight threw off his gown,
-                                                                     sir,
-  He mounts his horse, to join the course, and tally O the hounds, sir.
-
-  This parson had a pair to wed, the hounds they came in view sir,
-  He threw his surplice o’er his head, and bad the pair adieu, sir:
-  They both did pray, that he might stay, for they were not half bound,
-                                                                     sir!
-  He bid them go to bed that night, he’d tally O the hounds, sir.
-
-  What think you of this priest of mine, he’s sure an honest heart, sir,
-  His praise is worthy of my song, he has neither pride nor art, sir:
-  He ne’er opprest, the poor distrest, none e’er his praise disowns, sir,
-  As he thinks’t no crime, at any time, to tally O the hounds, sir.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-THE COCKLE PARK EWES’ RAMBLE.
-
-_Tune._--John of Badenyon.
-
-
-PART I.
-
-_Or the First Day’s Ride.--March 4th, 1811._
-
-  The first of March, from COCKLE PARK,
-    A flock of sheep did stray,
-  Which disappeared in the dark,
-    And were not miss’d next day;
-  North west, by north, in zig-zag route,
-    To their late home did hie,
-  By innate instinct taught no doubt,
-    Their yeaning time drew nigh.[61]
-
-  They thirty hours a-head had got,
-    Upon their tour intent;
-  On searching ev’ry local spot,
-    A second day was spent;
-  The third I mounted--by Priest’s Bridge,
-    And Heron’s Close I veer’d;
-  To Harelaw Heights, and Ruffhill Ridge,
-    And Stanton Steads I steer’d.
-
-  To Southwardedge, Doehill, and Rea,
-    Smallburn, and the Haredean,
-  Blackpool, Todburn, and Garretlea,
-    And Horsley Moor I’d been;
-  At Westerheugh, and Sunnyside,
-    The Busygap also,
-  Each collier’s cot, and creeks beside,
-    High Hezleyhurst, and Low.
-
-  On wand’ring westward through Wardshill,
-    I there found the first three;
-  And heard the mass amissing still,
-    Had march’d towards the Lee;
-  I hir’d the herd, these to retain,
-    ’Till in pursuit I went,
-  To bring the others back again,
-    But quickly lost the scent.
-
-  True, I some stragglers overtook,
-    Near Leehead, with their lambs;
-  And all the rest had cross’d the brook,
-    But these indulgent dams:
-  The fugitives fecundity,
-    Allow’d of no delay;
-  Yet found it would difficult be,
-    More to collect that day.
-
-  Myself fatigu’d, and found my nag,
-    Fail of his wonted powers;
-  For want of food we both did fag,
-    By trav’ling twelve long hours.
-  So I resolved then to ride
-    Home at an easy pace;
-  A gross of hand-bills to provide,
-    And hence resume the chase.
-
-
-PART II.
-
-_March 5th, 1811._
-
-  Next day to the Thatchmeadows, I
-    (The forest skirts to scour)
-  Coldrife, and Quarryhouse pass’d by,
-    To Newbiggin’s bleak moor:
-  Bullbush, Blueburn, and Blagdon Brakes,
-    I carefully did scan;
-  But none on these extensive tracts,
-    Were seen by any man.
-
-  Ward’s Intake, Hut, and Shepherd’s Shield,
-    Coldside, and Moralhurst;
-  By Forestburn, and Meadowfield,
-    To Holyhill I cours’d:
-  Hence Lordenshaws, and Garlyside,
-    Crook, Loaning, Stewardshill;
-  But disappointments did preside,
-    O’er expectations still.
-
-  By the Sheephurst, to Brockleyhall,
-    And Turnbull’s steed I steer’d;
-  And at each peasant’s cot did call,
-    That in my path appear’d:
-  To the Two Raws, and Butterknows,
-    I posted on with speed,
-  Where I was told some of my ewes
-    Cross’d Coquet at Craghead.
-
-  Resolv’d the south side first to seek,
-    I rang’d that rocky hill,
-  ’Till I explor’d the ’Squires Peak;
-    Herd’s House, and Little Mill,
-  By Wagtailhall, and Sandyheughs,
-    To Rothbury then did ride;
-  To feed, refresh, and hear what news;
-    Then search the other side.
-
-  Hence by Knocklaw, and Tumbleton,
-    And ev’ry scatter’d cot,
-  Through Debdon Dale--and I anon
-    By Wintercove did trot,
-  To Rimside Inn, to bait and bouse;--
-    From Framlington, Blacksow,
-  To Flambrohead, and Wholluphouse,
-    But could not find a ewe.
-
-  From Frostyfolds, to Whitefield House,
-    Chilhope, and Cragend Scars,
-  Where they and lambs might lurk recluse,
-    Unless rous’d unawares;--
-  By Healy, Hope, Lynn, and Woodhead,
-    To Healycoat I trudg’d,
-  To Cockshot, Brinkburn, and Todstead,
-    Where for that night I lodg’d.
-
-
-PART III.
-
-_March 6th, 1811._
-
-  Good fortune still attends the brave,
-    As at an early hour,
-  Intelligence a stranger gave,
-    Where to extend my tour:
-  I sprung my gelding to full speed,
-    ’Till I explor’d the spot,
-  And found by dint of heels my steed
-    To the rear rank had got.
-
-  First three I found on Thropton Hill,
-    There basking with their brood;
-  The rest were seen from Snitter Mill,
-    Past Cartington to crowd:
-  From Silverside, by Lorbottle,
-    To Trewhit Mains I march’d,
-  By Netherton, through Screnwood Dell,
-    And Fawdon Fell I search’d.
-
-  To Prendick Peak, and Alnham Moor,
-    And all adjacent grounds;
-  O’er Ingram Edge, I stretch’d my tour,
-    To seek that spacious bounds:
-  From Revely, Greenshaws, Hartside Hill,
-    To Linhope Spout with speed;
-  On Shillmoor Shank found strayers still,
-    To Rawhope Rig recede.
-
-  To Milkhope, Memmer Kirk, and Haigh,
-    And Cushet Law I por’d;
-  To Carlcroft, and Kidlandlea,
-    Dryhope, and Usway Ford:
-  The Maiden’s Cross, and Windy Gyle,
-    And Cheviot’s skirts curv’d round;
-  To Fleehope--but the front-rank file
-    At Langlee Ford I found.
-
-  Benighted, where these brutes did browse,
-    Upon the border bent;
-  I could not retrogade my ewes,
-    Some couchant seem’d content:
-  At the stock-farmer of that place,
-    For lodgings did enquire,
-  And there receiv’d a sweet solace,
-    Next morning to retire.
-
-  I ask’d both master and his men,
-    For one a-wanting still;
-  Who all declar’d they did not ken.
-    Of stray sheep on their hill:
-  Squads to collect I did remount,
-    O’er hills and dales I cross’d;
-  And that one short of my account,
-    I then gave up for lost.
-
-[61] It is nothing particular for ewes, at their yeaning time, to
-stray: some have been known to travel an hundred miles to their
-native place to yean. The author remembers a ewe which had with
-others been sold to the southward, and was kept on the Haughs of the
-Humber, from which she strayed, and reaching Makendon, on the borders
-of Scotland, she travelling about twenty yards within her original
-pasture, there squatted and yeaned in half an hour. The owner of the
-ewe that travelled so far to yean upon her pristine spot, went the year
-following to buy another lot of the same sort, was asked how the last
-year’s stock proved, answered, _extraordinary well_, excepting one that
-disappeared, which he supposed to be stole. The stocksman said he was
-sorry for his loss, which however, he said, he would make good if they
-bargained for the present parcel. The bargain was made, and the seller
-turned an ewe and lamb, gratis, into the drove, explained the fact, and
-the poor ewe had to retread the ground she had twice before travelled
-over.
-
-
-
-
-SONG.
-
-
-_By J.C.--July 5th, 1810._
-
-  A fair reformation would render this nation,
-    The richest isle under the sun;
-  If terms now septennial were turn’d to triennial,
-    The work would be more than half done.
-
-  Our grand constitution defies diminution,
-    While honest men handle the helm;
-  But subject to slav’ry, and sanction’d by knav’ry,
-    When ravagers rule in the realm.
-
-  A few dying embers of Morpeth, two members
-    Can send in the senate to sit:
-  Shields, Alnwick, and Hexham (the truth tends to vex ’em)
-    United, not one can transmit.
-
-  One man of old Sarum, two members declare him;
-    Thus burghs, and constituents wane:
-  Some staple towns none, though Manchester alone,
-    Near two hundred thousands contain.
-
-  Besides rotten boroughs, the source of our sorrows,
-    These Cinque-Ports, and sinecures all;
-  With pensions and places our council disgraces,
-    Which courts of corruption some call.
-
-  With truth it is told, some freedoms are sold,
-    And seats traffick’d for at noon day;
-  The barter’s so bold, that for British gold,
-    Our code without scruples convey.
-
-  These buyers are bound, seat sellers to mound,
-    And vote on the ministers’ side;
-  If he says the crow’s white, or noon day is midnight,
-    They must by his behests abide.
-
-  In ev’ry debate concerning the state,
-    These relics of representation,
-  Majorities gain, and boldly maintain,
-    Their will is the voice of the nation.
-
-
-
-
-THE PLOUGHMAN.
-
-
-  The ploughman he comes home at night,
-    When he is wet and weary,
-  Puts off the wet, puts on the dry,
-    And goes to bed my deary.
-
-  I will wash the ploughman’s clothes,
-    I will wash them clean, O;
-  I will wash the ploughman’s clothes,
-    And dry them on the green, O.
-
-  The ploughman he comes home fu’ late,
-    When he wi’ wark is weary;
-  Dights off his shirt that is se wet;
-    And supper makes him cheery.
-
-  I will wash the ploughman’s clothes,
-    I will wash them white, O;
-  I will wash the ploughman’s clothes,
-    And dry them on the dyke, O.
-
-
-
-
-THE FLOWER OF ROTHBURY FOREST.
-
-
-  Sweet thro’ the forest, Coquet flows,
-    And sweet the flowers its banks adorn;
-  But sweetest far appears my _Rose_,
-    She’s sure the rose without a thorn.
-
-      Heard you the lilting,
-      At our kye milking,
-        Heard you the lilting yesterday;
-      Heard you the lilting,
-      At our kye milking;
-        The flower of the forest is stolen away.
-
-  Tho’ Meadowfield[62] may boast its sweets,
-    And meadow sweets its fields adorn;
-  United, all its scents me greets,
-    Present my _Rose_ without a thorn.
-      Heard you the lilting, &c.
-
-  Tho’ Flotterton[63] may boast its maids,
-    And on Twelfth Eve all others scorn:
-  I envy not their lusty blades,
-    Present my _Rose_ without a thorn.
-        Heard you the lilting, &c.
-
-  Tho’ at kye milking, maidens sing,
-    The forest’s flower is awa’;
-  I dinna heed, gae tak’ their fling,
-    For troth she’s stown awa’ wi’ me.
-        Heard you the lilting, &c.
-
-[62] Meadowfield, name of a place.
-
-[63] Maids’ Feast of Flotterton is on Twelfth Even.
-
-
-
-
-THE PIPER AT CAPHEATON.
-
-
-  At Christmas, when the wind blew cauld,
-    And frost and snaw’s o’er ilka dale,
-  Robin of Norham lost his way,
-    And at Capheaton thus did quail:--
-
-  O whether this is lairdly ha’,
-    Or poor man’s shield, O let me in;
-  I’m a poor Piper lost my way,
-    Unsneck your door and let me in.
-
-  O pity take, and dinna scorn,
-    Heffell[64] and I will die e’er morn;
-  I’ll screw my pipes and heartsome play,
-    And with a sang I’ll weel repay.
-
-  “When cockle shells and silver bells,
-    And bawds and whores do churches build,
-  When younkers cease to rant and drink,
-    And usurers tell their gold in field.
-
-  “When old Sir Humphery[65] rides to Rome,
-    And preaches in his best array:
-  When indigo dies red and brown,
-    Your honor shall be paid your hay.”
-
-  “When Nether Witton is waterless,
-    And Capheaton without a whin;
-  Shafto Crag all turn’d to peat and moss,
-    And cannot bear a foot aboon.
-
-  “When old Sir Humphery rides to Rome,
-    And preaches in his best array:
-  When indigo dies red and brown,
-    Your honor shall be paid your hay.”
-
-[64] The Piper’s Horse.
-
-[65] The Roman Catholic Priest.
-
-
-
-
-MARY GAMAL, _the Vicar of Kirk Whelpington’s Daughter, is gone off with
-Nichol Clark, his Servant Man_.
-
-
-  It happen’d at good Christmas tide,
-    When we play’d at the cards;
-  That some of us were gentlemen,
-    And other some were lairds.
-
-  While deals were dealt, cards were cut,
-    And merry we were a’,
-  And some were waggish, well I wot,
-    Till in came Charlie Shaw:
-
-  And cried, Ye birds of Whelpington,
-    Fie shame! such simple wark!
-  For bonny Mary Gamal’s run
-    Away wi’ Nicol Clark.
-
-  But had your tongue, gude maister,
-    And dinna speak sae cruse;
-  She came willing thro’ your window,
-    He did na’ break your house.
-
-      Then cry, Ye lairds of Whelpington, &c.
-
-
-
-
-SONG.
-
-
-  About the bush Willy,
-    About the bee hive,
-  About the bush Willy,
-    I’ll meet thee alive.
-
-  Then to my ten shillings,
-    Add you but a groat,
-  I’ll go to Newcastle,
-    And buy a new coat.
-
-  Five and five shillings,
-    Five and a crown;
-  Five and five shillings,
-    Will buy a new gown.
-
-  Five and five shillings,
-    Five and a groat;
-  Five and five shillings,
-    Will buy a new coat.
-
-
-
-
-THE WATER OF TYNE.
-
-
-  I cannot get to my love if I should dee,
-    The water of Tyne runs between him and me;
-  And here I must stand with the tear in my e’e,
-    Both sighing and sickly, my sweetheart to see.
-
-  O where is the boatman, my bonny honey?
-    O where is the boatman?--bring him to me--
-  To ferry me over the Tyne to my honey,
-    And I will remember the boatman and thee.
-
-  O bring me a boatman--I’ll give any money,
-    (And you for your trouble rewarded shall be)
-  To ferry me over the Tyne to my honey,
-    Or scull him across that rough river to me!
-
-
-
-
-
-ANDREW CARR.
-
-
-  As I went to Newcastle,
-    My journey was not far,
-  I met with a sailor lad,
-    Whose name was Andrew Carr.
-
-      And hey for Andrew, Andrew,
-        Ho for Andrew Carr;
-      And hey for Andrew, Andrew,
-        Ho for Andrew Carr.
-
-  Good fortune attend my jewel,
-    Now he’s sail’d o’er the bar,
-  And send him back to me,
-    For I love my Andrew Carr.
-      And hey for Andrew, Andrew, &c.
-
-
-
-
-SONG.
-
-
-  I went to Black Heddon,
-    And there I sat down,
-  I call’d for some liquor,
-    Which cost half-a-crown.
-
-  The liquor being good,
-    I fill’d myself fu’;
-  And could not go home
-    To my Eppie so true.
-
-      To my Eppie so true,
-        My Eppie so true,
-        My Eppie so true,
-      And could not go home
-        To my Eppie so true.
-
-
-
-
-_LINES_ ON JOHN THOMPSON, _Who was hanged on Newcastle Town Moor, for
-Horse Stealing, about 20 Years ago._
-
-
-By ---- Ogle, Schoolmaster, Gateshead.
-
-  John Thompson just now,
-  Will find it is true,
-    That thieving is worse than the sword;
-  In the space of an hour,
-  He’ll dance on the Moor,
-    Attach’d to a rope, or a cord.
-
-
-
-
-THE PITMAN.
-
-
-_By ---- Ogle._
-
-  Of a pitman we’ll sing,
-  Who works for the king,
-    Jovial, good natur’d, and civil;
-  He’ll work and he’ll sing,
-  And profit he’ll bring,
-    From caverns that’s near to the devil.
-
-  To his labour below,
-  With courage he’ll go,
-    Upon his pit rope and his crook;
-  Nor will he once dwell
-  On the visions of hell,
-    Nor yet _fash_ his thumb with a book.
-
-  All his wish is good ale,
-  An’ his claes upon sale,
-    For a tankard he’ll put ev’ry night:
-  Let the learned still think,
-  That a hearty sound drink,
-    Is a pitman’s most crowned delight.
-
-
-
-
-A SONG
-
-
-_Written principally by MR GEORGE PICKERING, and sung by a Member of
-the Forest Hunt, Newcastle, at the Conclusion of the Season, March
-29th, 1786; and afterwards at the Theatre Royal, by Mr Marshall._
-
-    Since Winter’s keen blast must to Zephyr give place,
-  We resign, for a season, the joys of the chase;
-  The cry of the hounds and of hunters must cease,
-  And puss thro’ the woodlands may ramble in peace;
-  In peace let her ramble, regardless and free,
-  Till the horn’s cheerful note shall awake us with glee;
-  Till October returns, let her frolic and play,
-  And then we’ll pursue her with “Hark, hark away.”
-        With hark, hark away,
-        With hark, hark away,
-  And then we’ll pursue her with hark, hark away!
-
-    When ting’d were the hills with the crimson of morn,
-  We jocundly rose to the sound of the horn;
-  Triumphant its melody swell’d o’er the plain,
-  While the heath-cover’d mountains re-echo’d the strain:
-  Hark, hark! was the mandate, we flew like the wind,
-  And care’s haggard visage was distanc’d behind:
-  What joys can be equal to those we display,
-  When we follow the harriers with hark, hark away!
-      With hark, hark away, &c.
-
-  Like the soldier return’d from a far hostile shore,
-  Recounting his toils and his victories o’er,
-  Of the battle’s loud din, where his courage so true,
-  Obtain’d the green laurel, entwining his brow.
-  Of chases now past let our narrative be,
-  Till Winter’s pale hand shall dismantle the tree;
-  Then, then to the forest exultingly stray,
-  And cheer the fleet harriers with hark, hark away.
-      With hark, hark away, &c.
-
-  Then fill up your glasses--yet fill as you chuse,
-  Here’s a health, brother sportsmen, which none can refuse;
-  A health that with pleasure our club shall inspire,
-  While hunting delights, or while hounds we admire:--
-  See, see, how I fill it--’tis COLPITTS[66] I toast,
-  Of our Hunt may he long be the pride and the boast,
-  And oft may we meet him with joys like to-day,
-  And long may he lead us with hark, hark away.
-      With hark, hark away,
-      With hark, hark away,
-  And long may he lead us with hark, hark away.
-
-[66] _George Colpitts_, Esq. of Killingworth, the worthy Master of the
-Forest Hunt.--He died October 30th, 1793, universally regretted.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-LONG FRAMLINGTON FAIR, (OR TRYST)
-
-
-_Established July 15th, 1803._
-
-  All lovers of lucre may LAUD the _Lord Mayor_,
-  Who was the first founder of _Framlington Fair_;
-  Where mankind now mingle, and merchants too meet,
-  And all in full muster that magistrate greet:
-  Here stocksmen and tradesmen both traffic and truck,
-  And prone speculators pursue their purse-luck;
-  Here contractors cash into cattle convert,
-  By buying or barter in mayor Millar’s mart.
-
-  Here coaches and chariots and chaises abound,
-  With folks of first fashion from fifty miles round;
-  Here bucks, bloods, and buffoons, belles, buxoms, and beaux,
-  Bedizen’d with drapery, and French furbelows:
-  Here young men and maidens in marriage moods meet,
-  And crowds of quaint coquets bald bachelors cheat;
-  Here parents and prattlers are sprightly and smart,
-  And lads league with lasses in mayor Millar’s mart.
-
-  Horn’d cattle, and horses, mules, asses, and swine,
-  And sheep of all kinds kept ’twixt _Tweed_ and the _Tyne_;
-  A skilful collection of choice Cheviot rams,
-  And also the best breed of bleak border lambs;
-  Hard hogs from the _Highlands_, some long, and some short,
-  And some sightly samples of Leicester sort;
-  Some _South Downs_, some _Dishleys_, some _Dorsets_, and _Harts_,
-  Some _Bedfords_, and _Bakewells_, grace mayor Millar’s marts.
-
-  This marvellous mayor did some patterns produce,
-  May prove to the public of infinite use;--
-  His beasts from the _Dearboughts_[67]--cow-kyloes, and queys,
-  Did breeders and feeders and butchers surprise;
-  Nay, set as a cypher the _Long Witton stot_;[68]
-  And credit confer’d on the _Kintire Scot_,
-  Who rear’d upon pastures of poor pithless spart,
-  These magnified monsters in mayor Millar’s mart.
-
-    Their dimensions alive, and their density dead,
-  He measur’d and weigh’d with the eyes of his head,
-  From the tip of the tongue to the tip of the tail,
-  In ells and in inches, exact as a scale,
-  The girt of the sirloin, the centre and crop,
-  The breadth of the brisket, the bottom and top;
-  By practice made perfect, precise, and expert,
-  Surpris’d all the people in mayor Millar’s mart.
-
-    A caravan crowded, came here from the east,
-  With _Bengal_ bred bipeds, and _Bot’ney Bay_ beasts;
-  Stage-tumblers, and walkers upon the slack wire,
-  And dancing dogs deck’d out in harlequin ’tire;
-  Eke, eight _British_ badgers brought back in a box,
-  The big and the beautiful _Berwickshire_ ox;
-  With all tricks by slight hand of nature and art,
-  To add to the eclat of mayor Millar’s mart.
-
-    Close by the mayor’s mansion, expos’d are in pens,
-  A local collection of cocks and of hens;
-  Ducks, turkies, and pigeons in sunkets are seen,
-  And pack-sacks presented with grey geese and green:
-  With well cul’d canaries confin’d close in cages,
-  And song birds of all sorts and sizes and ages;
-  Whose quavering chorus both cheer and divert
-  The cohorts convened at mayor Millar’s mart.
-
-    Here potters, with panniers of Stafford and Delph,
-  And chests of choice china to shine on the shelf;
-  Here’s hampers of hardware--plate--polish’d and plain,
-  With all tin utensils of varnish and stain:
-  Here’s statues of stucco, Dutch trinkets, and toys,
-  And bawlers of ballads, of nonsense, and noise!
-  Here cadgers of commerce, commodities cart,
-  With hucksters and hawkers, to mayor Millar’s mart.
-
-    From _Morpeth_, _Newcastle_, and _London_ likewise,
-  The puffers of paste here expose _penny pies_!
-  With cheese cakes and custards and other confects,
-  Of rare aromatics, and summer selects:
-  Scarce kickshaws more costly can be chew’d with chaps,
-  Yet somewhat less sav’ry than _Silas Swain’s_[69] snaps,
-  Which powerful perfumes to the palates impart,
-  Of alamode essence in mayor Millar’s mart.
-
-    Hotels for highflyers, and Inns little worse,
-  With good entertainment for man and for horse;
-  Here’s baskets of butter, beef, bacon, bread, beer,
-  With fleshers, fishmongers, and other choice cheer,
-  To buoy up the belly, and burnish the back;
-  Who have ready rhino need nothing to lack;--
-  Fairs formerly fam’d now begin to loss heart,
-  Since all Adam’s offspring prefer Millar’s mart.
-
-Coquetarious.
-
-[67] The name of a neighbouring farm.
-
-[68] The fattest kyloe stot ever killed in the county.
-
-[69] A Confectioner in that town, a man of considerable humour and fun.
-
-
-
-
-GO ALL TO COQUET AND WOO.
-
-
-  Northumberland lads are handsome squads,
-    And female affiance must share;
-  If you wish to wed, betroth to bed,
-    One cull’d with caution and care.
-
-  I here make free--give ear to me,
-    The county I’ve scan’d around;
-  So from the mass select a lass,
-    Where virtue and beauties abound.
-
-  The lasses of TWEED are deft indeed,
-    Their garlands give such grace:
-  The lasses of TILL are sprightly still,
-    In figure, in fashion, and face.
-
-  The lasses of BREMISH look rather squeamish,
-    Embellish’d with elegant ease;
-  The lasses of ALE, for plumage prevail,
-    Their pomp and appendages please.
-
-  The lasses of ALWIN obey fashion’s call, when
-    A princess prescribes a new dress;
-  The lasses of REED, each hair-braids her head,
-    And apes alamode to excess.
-
-  The lasses of WENSBECK, like dignify’d dames deck,
-    And their address quite debonair;
-  The lasses of FOUNT, though pronounc’d paramount,
-    Can scarce with these comits compare.
-
-  The lasses of PONT, to decorate don’t
-    Soar yet in the sphere of extremes;
-  The lasses of ERRING, on fashions conferring,
-    The decent most dext’rous deem.
-
-  The lasses of TYNE, who peerlessly shine,
-    Are mirrors of modesty too:
-  The lasses of COQUET put all in their pocket,
-    Go all to Coquet and woo!
-
-  So take my advice, tour there in a trice,
-    These provident paragons view;
-  So splendid and pretty, so worthy, and witty,
-    You’ll never have reason to rue.
-
-
-
-
-THE FRACTIOUS FARMER. _A SONG._--1792.
-
-
-  A farmer near Felton, fam’d for vulgar fractions,
-  Both testy and stubborn in all his transactions;
-  With fraud and with falsehoods to litigate labours,
-  A plague to the public, and pest to his neighbours.
-
-  His BULL, this base brigand kept bound by the nose,
-  In a creek, on the confines of Coquet, that those
-  Cows which came across (thus decoy’d) to his corn,
-  The coin of their owners by craft to suborn.
-
-  He marry’d a maid with much money, as stated,
-  Both handsome, and harmless, yet heartily hated;
-  Hence hootings, and hissings, and banters beset her,
-  Because he his handmaid had long lov’d far better.
-
-  One sunday at dinner he saw of a sudden,
-  A human head hair peeping out of the pudding:
-  Though his minx mix’d the mass, made his spouse pluck it out,
-  And likewise submit to a buffetting bout.
-
-  One time when he wanted his fingers to warm,
-  She fronted the fire, and thought of no harm;
-  Her seat he upset, and she fell on the floor,
-  Depriv’d of her senses for more than an hour.
-
-  As he and his harlot one time sat at tea,
-  To taste a bit toast, his own matron made free;
-  For which misdemeanor his concubine cog’d her,
-  And for the offence he unfeelingly flog’d her.
-
-  One afternoon, ent’ring the parlour, he saw,
-  Expos’d on the carpet, prostrate, a piece straw;
-  His spouse he suspected for the foul offence,
-  And snatching the poker, depriv’d her of sense.
-
-  His children he taught with a dutiful grace,
-  To piss upon _Mammy_, and spit on her face;
-  And laugh when he lash’d her, ’till sickly and sore,
-  And in storms and in tempests turn’d her to the door.
-
-  With hunger and hardships, by bruises and blows,
-  His help-mate is render’d so lank and so low;
-  She seems to surrender the lease of her life,
-  And wind up the warfare of a wailing wife.
-
-
-
-
-SATYR UPON WOMEN.
-
-
-_By Mr James Robson._
-
-This song is imperfectly compiled from part of a “Satyr upon Women,”
-wrote in Preston prison, in 1715 by Mr James Robson, a freeholder in
-Thropton, near Rothbury, Northumberland, at that time a musician in the
-rebel army. He sung the Satyr aloud, at an iron barred window looking
-into a garden, where a lady and her maid were walking: after the song
-was finished, the former says, “That young man seems very severe upon
-our sex; but perhaps he is singing more from oppression than pleasure;
-go give him that half crown piece,” which the girl gave him through the
-grating, at a period when he was at the point of starving.
-
-  All men of high and low degree,
-    Come listen to my song;
-  The subject suits both you and me,
-    With attestations strong:
-  Therefore I hope you’ll not be nice,
-    Attention true to pay,
-  And hence adhere to my advice,
-    Lest you be led astray.
-
-  Should you to marry be inclin’d,
-    I charge you to beware;
-  And caution you to change your mind,
-    Thus to escape that snare;
-  Be not decoy’d by age nor youth,
-    Whose aims are artful all;
-  But take my word as standard truth,
-    You here may stand or fall.
-
-  If you should wed one with a dower,
-    Obedience you must pay;
-  Or if you marry one who’s poor,
-    In rags you must array:
-  If you a blooming beauty wed,
-    A cuckold you must be;
-  And if a brunet blight your bed,
-    You’ll blush when belles you see.
-
-  Should you select a learned lass,
-    Impertinence must pall;
-  Or cull one from a vulgar class,
-    She balderdash will bawl:
-  If you adopt a daft town’s dame,
-    Her behests will be bold:
-  Or coax one of inferior fame,
-    She’ll curse, carouse, and scold.
-
-  Shun lofty looks, and language loud,
-    No stripes such tongues can tame;
-  Fly wanton wenches mirthful mood,
-    Which counsel can’t reclaim:
-  A wife of stature tall will dare,
-    To drag a giant down;
-  And little women wicked are,
-    One crop’d strong Samson’s crown.
-
-  Reflect that Adam’s innocence,
-    Was to Eve’s blunder blind;
-  Whose crafty crime caus’d to commence,
-    A curse upon mankind;
-  So you cannot too cautious be,
-    Of wormwood mix’d with gall;
-  Then friends pray be advis’d by me,
-    To wed with _none at all_!
-
-
-
-
-TWEED SIDE.
-
-
-  On travelling down Tweed side,
-    I heard an uncouth chit chat;
-  An old wife thus her neighbour did chide,
-    May curses confound your cat!
-
-  His plunder I’ll tell you pit pat,
-    Our hut he inhabits at ease;
-  He broke into our buffet,
-    And munch’d up our ewe-milk cheese.
-
-  He lifts up our larder latch,
-    And he skims all the cream off the milk;
-  The callans he’ll bite and he’ll scratch,
-    And the brats of their boiley will bilk.
-
-  No farley to find him so fat,
-    Beef, bacon, and butter, he eats;
-  And ne’er hunts for a mouse nor a rat,
-    But sups upon savory meats.
-
-  He has lunch’d up two large lamb legs,
-    Of our bannocks he’s not left a bit;
-  And has scar’d the old hen off her eggs,
-    And she’s drown’d in the kirn-milk kit.
-
-  He mucks in our mickle meal-chest,
-    He spews in the cistern of salt;
-  In our kale-pot and cogies he’s piss’d,
-    And he mutes too among the malt.
-
-  He has drove a scate fish off the bink,
-    Which drop’d in the brimstone kan,
-  And rais’d such a stove and stink
-    As chok’d our old good man.
-
-  Was it no more damage than that,
-    The brute must be greatly to blame;
-  If you take not care of your tom-cat,
-    He may rely on a lame!
-
-
-
-
-A SONG, _Pasted upon the Walls, and scattered about the Town of
-Rothbury, several Years ago._
-
-
-  Young Solomon, tir’d of a bachelor’s life,
-  Is resolv’d, by report, on a fat greasy wife,
-  Though merit might gain him a good natured girl,
-  Would forfeit his prospect for brazen Miss E----
-
-  If he wish to be wedded to folly and dirt,
-  To a lie-loving hussy, and impudent flirt,
-  Let him take what the captains of Alemouth have left,
-  And of comfort I warrant he will be bereft.
-
-  If a creature he takes who in muslin would shine,
-  Poor Solomon must on a red-herring dine;
-  To buy her fine clothes, and rich tippets of scarlet,
-  And dress the poor beggar in garbs of a harlot.
-
-  If willing with good cheerful neighbours to spend,
-  Or a convivial hour with some gay social friend;
-  To Bo----m’s would go, and therein not to be check’d,
-  Let him shun the hard fate of a husband hen-peck’d.
-
-  If he wish not to labour with want and disgrace,
-  Nor to answer demands which will fly in his face,
-  Nor would open his purse for the debts of another,
-  Let him think in due time of the case of Poll’s brother.
-
-  If children he’d have, with free use of their frame,
-  Let him not take a part’ner stiff-jointed and lame;
-  But let him look out for some wholesome clean girl,
-  And escape from the clutches of shameful Poll E----.
-
-_The following ANSWER was handed about at Berwick upon Tweed and the
-neighbouring Villages._
-
-  Ah! pen, ink, and paper, proves pleasing,
-    To pirates who plunder the fame
-  Of females, by lewdness and teasing,
-    Too naughty and nauseous to name.
-
-  A rector, more rude than the rabble,
-    Compos’d an incendiary song,
-  More base than a Billingsgate bauble,
-    And like his stale strumpet stinks strong.
-
-  That seat on a summit for cent’ries
-    Assigned to sages and saints,
-  Was kept by those scripture comment’ries
-    From tete-a-tete, tarnish, and taints.
-
-  But time tells a tragical story,
-    Of truths well attested by some;
-  The term has turn’d out transitory,
-    That bulwarks a brothel become.
-
-  The mansion (I need not to mention)
-    Affords an affectionate feast,
-  To vassals of vicious invention,
-    A pander, two punks, and a priest.
-
-  Their pastimes and sports are pollution,
-    Each minx is unmarry’d--each man
-  Prefers to his spouse prostitution
-    Upon a ’postolical plan.
-
-  By priestcraft the pulpit’s perverted,
-    The parson’s deprav’d and impure;
-  With projects profane preconcerted,
-    A leacherous lout to allure.
-
-  Each cuddles his coney or rabbit,
-    And pleasantly purr with puss-cats;
-  Hence with husky harlots cohabit,
-    And handle a herdling’s old hats.
-
-  When pregnant, the spinster’s exported
-    Till she spawn her spurious sprouts,
-  Hence home with due caution escorted
-    To free the fecundine from flouts.
-
-  At Alnwick, this pious imposter
-    And Betty have boarded their brats;
-  Where they keep a female to foster
-    Their moppets, and Matthew’s pit-rats.
-
-  The quorum confer’d a commission
-    Upon this canonical quack,
-  Expecting the learned logician
-    Contentions would quell garb’d in black.
-
-  This pastor unprick’d with compunction,
-    His church with unchastity chimes,
-  And forfeits the fame of his function,
-    By columns of scandal and crimes.
-
-  Here follows a fatal relation,
-    By curses and conduct unkind,
-  (A fact prov’d by clear demonstration)
-    The brute broke the heart of his hind.
-
-  This curate (kept quite unconnected
-    With chums who in crowds coalesce)
-  Was by the whole parish respected,
-    For piety, prudence, and peace.
-
-  I’m sanction’d to say in the sequel,
-    His worship, by keeping a wench,
-  Incurs the contempt of each equal,
-    His betters, the bar, and the bench.
-
-  Traduce not the strains of a student,
-    Untaught in a technical style;
-  Nor pronounce a pupil imprudent,
-    For truths told on varlets so vile!!!
-
-
-
-
-SONG.
-
-
-  There was five wives at Acomb,
-    And five wives at Wa’,
-  And five wives at Fallowfield,
-    That’s fifteen o’ them a’.
-
-      They’ve druken ale and brandy,
-        ’Till they are all fu’;
-      And I cannot get home to
-        My Eppie I trow,
-          My Eppie I trow,
-          My Eppie I trow,
-      And I cannot get home to
-        My Eppie I trow.
-
-  The Tyne water’s se deep, that
-    I cannot wade through;
-  And I’ve no horse to ride to
-    My Eppie I trow,
-          My Eppie I trow,
-          My Eppie I trow,
-      And I’ve no horse to ride to
-        My Eppie I trow.
-
-  In Tyne I hev not a boat,
-    Nor yet cou’d I row,
-  Across the deep water to
-    My Eppie I trow,
-          My Eppie I trow,
-          My Eppie I trow,
-      And I’ve no horse to ride to
-        My Eppie I trow.
-
-
-
-
-LITTLE BILLY.
-
-
-  Now little Billy is gone to the kirk,
-    And so merrily he doth sing:
-  I catch’d the parson in bed with my mother,
-    But I woud’nt tell it for any thing.
-
-  Thou art a liar, says Mess John,
-    I never did thy mother no harm:
-  I never was in her house in my life,
-    But once or twice for a penorth of barm.
-
-  Thou art a liar, said little Billy,
-    As sure as thou’rt on thy knees at prayer:
-  Did’nt I catch thee in bed with my mother,
-    And did’nt I tumble thee down the stairs.
-
-  Thou art a liar, says Mess John,
-    Thou shalt be whipp’d with a rod of birk;
-  And shalt be set in the stocks to morn,
-    For telling such lies o’ the kirk.
-
-
-
-
-SAIR FAIL’D HINNY.
-
-
-  I was young and lusty,
-    I was fair and clear;
-  I was young and lusty,
-    Many a long year.
-        Sair fail’d hinny,
-          Sair fail’d now;
-        Sair fail’d hinny,
-          Sin’ I kend thou.
-
-  When I was young and lusty,
-    I could loup a dyke;
-  But now at five and sixty,
-    Cannot do the like.
-        Sair fail’d hinny,
-          Sair fail’d now,
-        Sair fail’d hinny,
-          Sin’ I kend thou.
-
-  Then said the awd man
-    To the oak tree;
-  Sair fail’d is ’e,
-    Sin’ I kend thee.
-        Sair fail’d hinny,
-          Sair fail’d now;
-        Sair fail’d hinny,
-          Sin’ I kend thou.
-
-
-
-
-THE HARE SKIN.
-
-
-BY GEORGE KNIGHT, SHOEMAKER.
-
-Tune.--_Have you heard of a frolicsome ditty._
-
-  Come, gentlemen, attend to my ditty,
-    All you that delight in a gun;
-  And, if you’ll be silent a minute,
-    I’ll tell you a rare piece of fun.
-                                  Fal lal, &c.
-
-  It was on the tenth of November,
-    Or else upon Martinmas-day,
-  A gentleman,[70] who lov’d pastime,
-    Got a hare-skin well stuff’d with hay.
-
-  Then into the field he convey’d her,
-    And set her against a hedge-side;
-  Our gunners were rambling the fields thro’,
-    So that pussy was quickly espy’d.
-
-  Mr Tindal, the first that espy’d her,
-    Said that he lov’d a roast hare,
-  And that he would have her _tit_ supper,
-    For he for the law did not care.
-
-  The better his purpose to answer,
-    He charged his gun well with slugs,
-  And firing right manfully at her,
-    He _hat_ her betwixt the two lugs.
-
-  But when that he went for to seize her,
-    He found himself cursedly bit;
-  And soon flung her down in a passion,
-    And look’d as if he’d been b----t.
-
-  The next was Will Dunn, our painter,
-    Who wanted a novelty bit;
-  And, taking good aim, let fly at her,
-    And kill’d her stone-dead on her seat.
-
-  When firing, he swore he had maul’d her,
-    He ne’er miss’d a hare in his life;
-  And then in great trouble was he,
-    To get her safe home to his wife.
-
-  The next was John Walker, a tailor,
-    He thinking poor puss for to nap,
-  Indeed, he endeavour’d to kill her,
-    But his gun very often did snap.
-
-  But then making all things in order,
-    He at her let furiously drive;
-  Our serjeant was to have her _tit_ supper,
-    To make them all merry belyve.
-
-  But I think he was damnable saucy,
-    She ne’er was intended for he;
-  He must get something else to his cabbage,
-    For it and hare flesh ’ll ne’er agree.
-
-  The next was Joe Dixon, the barber,
-    One morning he rose in great haste,
-  And swore he would have hare _tit_ his supper,
-    And give all his neighbours a taste.
-
-  When firing, he swore he had kill’d her;
-    O then in great trouble was he,
-  How that he might safely convey her,
-    For fear any body should see.
-
-  The next was John Blythman, esquire;
-    Indeed he was much to blame,
-  To kill a hare with a gun is right cruel,
-    Tho’ gentlefolks may think it game.
-
-  Then Grundy came cursing and swearing,
-    Which is the chief end of his talk,
-  He shot her, and swore by his maker,
-    He’d kill’d her as dead as a mawk.
-
-  But when that he went for to seize her,
-    And found it a skin stuff’d with hay,
-  He flung her down in a passion,
-    And cursed, and so went away.
-
-  Now I’d have you all take care for the future,
-    And mind very well what I say;
-  Before that you fire, see the hare run,
-    Lest it prove a hare skin stuff’d with hay.
-
-  But I think they were all finely tricked,
-    Beside wasting powder and shot:
-  Let us have a good drink at the fancy,
-    So, landlady, fill us the pot.
-
-  Here’s the gentleman’s health that contriv’d it,
-    For he is a right honest soul;
-  We’ll laugh and we’ll merrily sing,
-    When we’re over a full flowing bowl.
-                                  Fal lal, &c.
-
-[70] Mr Peter Confett.
-
-
-
-
-LIMBO.
-
-
-By the same Author.
-
-Tune.--_On a time I was great, now little I’m grown._
-
-  I’ll tell you a story, if you please to attend,
-    When my heart was afflicted with sorrow,
-  The song it is new, but it’s absolute true;
-    It’s for nothing that I did buy or borrow:
-  But I was sent for to Preston’s one day the last week,
-  There I little expected with what I did meet,
-  But the country’s all rogues, and the world is a cheat,
-    And there they confin’d me in Limbo.
-
-  Like an innocent lamb to the slaughter I went,
-    Not knowing what was their intention,
-  But when I came there, O how I did stare,
-    When I found out their damned invention.
-  There was Preston the bailiff, Joe Craggs was his bum,
-  And there they did seize me, as sure as a gun,
-  Upstairs then they haul’d me into the back room,
-    And there they confin’d me in Limbo.
-
-  My belly was empty, though my stomach was full,
-    For to think there how I was _trepanned_,
-  Preston pull’d out a paper and made a long scrawl,
-    And he forc’d me to set my hand to’t.
-  Then I open’d his closet, I got out a pie,
-  Then I call’d for liquor, while I was a dry,
-  I knew somebody would pay for’t, but what cared I?
-    I wasn’t to starve, though in Limbo.
-
-  Another poor fellow there happen’d to be,
-    Which they had confined in Limbo;
-  Brother prisoner, says I, how shall we get free,
-    For want of this thing called rhino?
-  The poor fellow sat like one was half dead,
-  Then I gave him claret to dye his nose red;
-  But I never knew yet how the reck’ning was paid;
-    I was resolv’d to live well, though in Limbo.
-
-  There was Mr Bum and I, we toss’d it about,
-    Until we began to grow mellow;
-  Three bottles of claret he there did me give,
-    Indeed he’s a jolly good fellow:
-  Full bumpers of claret went round it is true,
-  Some drank for vexation till twice they did spew,
-  I ne’er in my life saw so merry a crew,
-    As we were when I was in Limbo.
-
-  There was Ralph Jackson, the tanner, he came in by chance,
-    And did chatter and talk like a parrot;
-  And likewise Will Bulmer was one of our number,
-    For he had a mind to drink claret.
-  Full glasses went round till I could not see,
-  O then they were all willing I should go free;
-  But the devil may pay them their reckoning for me,
-    For now I have got out of Limbo.
-
-  With many a foul step then I stagger’d home,
-    And it happen’d to be without falling;
-  I got on my bed, and nothing I said,
-    But my wife she began with her bawling;
-  She rung me such a peal, though she’d been not well,
-  As if she would have rais’d all the devils in hell,
-  You might have heard her as far as the sound of Bow Bell;
-    Then I wish’d that I’d stay’d there in Limbo.
-
-
-
-
-A NEW SONG, _For the Year 1764_.
-
-BY MR WILLIAM SUTTON.
-
-
-  On the banks of the Tees, at Stockton of old,
-  A castle there was of great fame we are told,
-  Where the Bishops of Durham were wont to retreat,
-  And spend all their summers at that gallant seat.
-                                        Derry down &c.
-
-  ’Twas once on a time, that King John being there,
-  The chiefs of Newcastle did thither repair;
-  Humbly pray’d that his Highness would deign for to grant
-  Them a charter, of which they were then in great want.
-
-  The King highly pleas’d with the Bishop’s grand treat,
-  (Abounding in liquors, and all sorts of meat,)
-  Their prayer he comply’d with, the charter did sign,
-  Owing then, as ’twas said, to the Bishop’s good wine.
-
-  Old Noll, in his day, out of pious concern,
-  This castle demolish’d[71], sold all but the barn;
-  When Nilthorp and Hollis, with two or three more,
-  Divided the spoils, as they’d oft done before.
-
-  The town still improving, became the delight
-  Of strangers, and others, so charming its sight,
-  That a bridge cross the river being lately propos’d,
-  The cash was subscrib’d, and the bargain soon clos’d.
-
-  The King, Lords, and Commons approving the scheme,
-  The bridge was begun, and now’s building between[72]
-  Two counties, when finish’d, no doubt ’twill produce
-  Fairs, markets for cattle, and all things for use.
-
-  Let us drink then a bumper to Stockton’s success,
-  May its commerce increasing ne’er meet with distress;
-  May the people’s endeavours procure them much wealth,
-  And enjoy all their days the great blessing of health.
-                                        Derry down, &c.
-
-[71] The castle and demesnes were sold during the government of the
-common wealth, 1647, for 6165_l._ and soon after was dismantled, and
-the materials disposed of.
-
-[72] The act of parliament for building a bridge, by subscription, was
-got in 1761, was immediately begun, and was finished in April, 1771,
-and cost about 8000_l._
-
-
-
-
-STOCKTON’S COMMENDATION.
-
-
-Tune.--_Sir John Fenwick’s the flower amang them._
-
-  Come, brave spirits, that love Canary,
-    And good company are keeping,
-  From our friends let’s never vary,
-    Let your muse awake from sleeping:
-  Bring forth mirth and wise Apollo;
-    Mark your eyes on a true relation:
-  Virgil with his pen shall follow,
-    In ancient Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  Upon the stately river Tees,
-    A goodly castle there was placed,
-  Nigh joining to the ocean seas,
-    Whereby our country was much graced;
-  Affording rich commodities,
-    With corn and lead, unto our nation;
-  Which makes me sing with chearful voice,
-    Of ancient Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  In sixteen hundred thirty-five,
-    And about the month of February,
-  Three Stockton-men they did contrive,
-    To see their friends, and to be merry:
-  Part of their names I shall describe,
-    And place them down in comely fashion;
-  There was William, John, and Anthony,
-    Gain’d ancient Stockton commendation.
-
-  To famous Richmond first they came,
-    And with their friends awhile remained;
-  Middleham there, that town of fame,
-    Whereby much credit they obtained:
-  Being merry on a day,
-    A challenge came in this same fashion,
-  A match at football for to play;
-    But Stockton got the commendation.
-
-  Three Middleham-men appointed were,
-    And stakes put down on either party;
-  Stockton-men cast off all fear,
-    For Bishopric was always hearty.
-  Then those three Middleham-men did yield,
-    And for their loss they shew’d vexation;
-  There was but one came to the field,
-    And Stockton got the commendation.
-
-  With shouts and cries, in chearful voice,
-    The country all about them dwelling,
-  They all did say that very day,
-    That Stockton-men were far excelling.
-  When first I did it understand,
-    It was told to me as true relation;
-  Then I took my pen and ink in hand,
-    And writ brave Stockton’s commendation.
-
-
-
-
-THE NEW WAY OF STOCKTON’S COMMENDATION.
-
-
-TO THE OLD TUNE.
-
-_By Benjamin Pye, L.L.D._
-
-ARCHDEACON OF DURHAM.
-
-  “Upon the stately river Tees,
-    A noble castle there was placed,
-  Nigh joining to the ocean seas,
-    Whereby our country was much graced;
-  Affording rich commodities,
-    Of corn and lead unto the nation;
-  Which makes me sing in cheerful wise,
-    Of ancient Stockton’s commendation.”
-
-  But now I’ll tell you news prodigious,
-    My honest friends, be sure remark it,
-  Our ferries are transform’d to bridges,
-    And Cleveland trips to Stockton market.
-  Our causeways rough, and mirey roads,
-    Shall sink into a navigation,
-  And Johnny Carr shall sing fine odes,
-    In modern Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  O what a scene for joy and laughter,
-    To see, as light as cork or feather,
-  Our pond’rous lead, and bulky rafter,
-    Sail down the smooth canal together!
-  Whilst coal and lime and cheese and butter,
-    Shall grace our famous navigation;
-  And we will make a wond’rous clutter,
-    In modern Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  Our fairs I next will celebrate,
-    With scores of graziers, hinds and jockeys;
-  And bumpkins yok’d with Nell and Kate,
-    Who stare like any pig that stuck is:
-  Fat horned beasts now line our streets,
-    Which Aldermen were wont to pace on;
-  And oxen low, and lambkins bleat,
-    And all for Stockton’s commendation[73].
-
-  Our races too deserve a tune,
-    The northern sportsmen all prefer ’em,
-  For _Dainty Davy_ here did run
-    Much better then at York or Durham.
-  O ’twould take up a swingeing volume,
-    To sing at large our reputation;
-  Our bridge, our shambles, cross and column,
-    All speak fair Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  Fill then your jovial bumpers round,
-    Join chorus all in Stockton’s glory;
-  Let us but love our native town,
-    A fig for patriot, whig, or tory;
-  Whate’er they say, whate’er they do,
-    Their aim is but to fleece the nation;
-  Let us continue firm and true
-    To honest Stockton’s commendation.
-
-[73] During the scarcity of change in 1811-12, the people of Stockton
-issued out silver tokens of sixpence and twelve-pence value, the only
-tokens issued in the county.
-
-
-
-
-HARK TO WINCHESTER: OR, THE _Yorkshire Volunteers’ Farewell to the good
-Folks of Stockton._
-
-
-_Tune_,--Push about the Jorum.
-
-  Ye Stockton lads and lasses too,
-    Come listen to my story;
-  A dismal tale, because ’tis true,
-    I’ve now to lay before ye:
-  We must away, our rout is come,
-    We scarce refrain from tears, O:
-  Shrill shrieks the fife, rough roars the drum,--
-    March, Yorkshire Volunteers, O!
-                                  Fal lal lal la ral.
-
-  Yet ere we part, my comrades say,
-    Come, Stockhore[74], you’re the poet,
-  If e’er you pen’d a grateful lay,
-    ’Tis now the time to show it.
-  Such usage fair in this good town,
-    We’ve met from age and youth, sirs,
-  Accept our grateful thanks, and own
-    A poet sings the truth, sirs.
-                                  Fal lal, &c.
-
-  Ye lasses too, of all I see,
-    The fairest in the nation;
-  Sweet buds of beauty’s blooming tree,
-    The top of the creation;
-  Full many of our lads I ween,
-    Have got good wives and true, sirs;
-  I wonder what our leaders mean,
-    They have not done so too, sirs.
-                                  Fal lal, &c.
-
-  Perhaps----but hark! the thund’ring drum,
-    From love to arms is beating;
-  Our country calls; we come, we come,
-    Great George’s praise repeating:
-  He’s great and good, long may he here
-    Reign, every bliss possessing;
-  And long may each true volunteer
-    Behold him Britain’s blessing.
-                                  Fal lal, &c.
-
-  Our valiant Earl shall lead us on
-    The nearest way to glory,
-  Bright honour hails her darling son,
-    And fame records his story.
-  Dundas commands upon our lists
-    The second; though on earth, sirs,
-  No one he’s second to exists,
-    For courage, sense, and worth, sirs.
-                                  Fal lal, &c.
-
-  No venal muse before your view
-    Next sets a vet’ran bold, sirs,
-  The praise to merit justly due,
-    From Paul she cannot hold, sirs,
-  His valour oft has bore the test,
-    In war he’s brisk and handy;
-  His private virtues stand confest,
-    In short, he’s quite the dandy.
-                                  Fal lal, &c.
-
-  Brave Mackarel heads his grenadiers,
-    They’re just the lads to do it,
-  And should the Dons, or lank Monsieurs
-    Come here, he’ll make them rue it:
-  He’ll roar his thunders, make them flee,
-    With a tow, row, row, row, ra ra;
-  And do them o’er by land,----at sea,
-    As Rodney did Langara.
-                                  Fal lal, &c.
-
-  Young Thompson, with his lads so light
-    Of foot, with hearts of steel, O,
-  His country’s cause will nobly fight,
-    And make her foes to feel, O:
-  For should the frog-fed sons of Gaul
-    Come capering, _a la Francois_,
-  My lads, said he, we’ll teach them all
-    The _Light Bob_ country-dance a.
-                                  Fal lal, &c.
-
-  Our leaders all, so brave and bold,
-    Should I in verse recite a,
-  A baggage waggon would not hold
-    The songs that I could write, a:
-  Their deeds so great, their words so mild,
-    O take our worst commander,
-  And to him Cæsar was a child,
-    And so was Alexander.
-                                  Fal lal, &c.
-
-  Such men as these we’ll follow thro’
-    The world, and brave all danger;
-  Each volunteer is firm and true,
-    His heart’s to fear a stranger.----
-  _Good Folks, farewell!_ God bless the king,
-    With angels centry o’er him,
-  Now, _Hark, to Winchester!_ we’ll sing,
-    And push about the Jorum!
-                                  Fal lal lal la ral.
-
-[74] Herbert Stockhore, a private, the pretended author.
-
-
-
-
-STOCKTON’s COMMENDATION.
-
-
-  Ye freeholders of Stockton-town,
-    Who follow your several occupations,
-  Once more I’ll sing, and raise my tune,
-    On flourishing Stockton’s commendations.
-
-  Our bridge with pleasure I behold,
-    Our shambles gain great approbation;
-  And neighb’ring towns agree with me,
-    In singing Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  From East and West the graziers bring
-    Fat flocks of each denomination;
-  And o’er a glass they freely sing
-    Great is Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  Full thirty miles some butchers ride;
-    Fat goods are their expectation;
-  At Stockton they are well supplied;
-    They sing Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  Our shews proclaim a thriving town,
-    And fortnight-days to admiration,
-  To see Stockton improve so soon,
-    Daily to her commendation.
-
-  Our spacious streets each stranger views,
-    And fairly gives his approbation,--
-  Stockton’s the place that I do choose,
-    So great is Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  Our gardens, orchards, river, plains,
-    All join to raise our contemplation;
-  While hand in hand we other join,
-    In singing Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  Our merchants cast a noble shew,
-    Rich goods as any in the nation;
-  Great is their trade with high and low,
-    Makes them sing Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  All trades shall flourish now I see,
-    In their several occupation;
-  And our song shall ever be
-    Stockton’s lasting commendation.
-
-  Our ships well stor’d with merchandize,
-    Come trading here from ev’ry nation;
-  Our neighb’ring towns with goods supply,
-    Makes them sing Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  Our wool-trade daily does increase,
-    The staple of the British nation:
-  And farmers come, with cheerful pace,
-    To join in Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  Our lead in piles in plenty lie,
-    Sent by shipping to each nation.
-  Behold all trades on Stockton smile,
-    Makes me sing Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  Our races they are fifties three,
-    Where Darlington, of noble station,
-  Our Steward he approves to be,
-    To honour Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  May Darlington be Stockton’s friend,
-    And Stockton give their approbation
-  In favour of the House of Vane,
-    For raising Stockton’s commendation.
-
-  Now, freeholders, I take my leave,
-    Success to the British nation,
-  These lines to you I freely give,
-    In praise of Stockton’s commendation.
-
-
-
-
-THE BARNARDCASTLE TRAGEDY.
-
-
-Tune--_Constant Anthony_.
-
-  Young men and maidens all, I pray you now attend,
-  Mark well this tragedy which you find here penn’d;
-  At Barnardcastle Bridge-end, an honest man lives there,
-  His calling grinding corn, for which few can compare.
-
-  He had a sister dear, in whom he took delight,
-  And Atkinson, his man, woo’d her both day and night;
-  Till thro’ process of time he chained fast her heart,
-  Which prov’d her overthrow, by Death’s surprising dart.
-
-  False-hearted Atkinson, with his deluding tongue,
-  And his fair promises, he’s this poor maid undone;
-  For when he found he’d caught her fast in Cupid’s snare,
-  Then made he all alike, Betty’s no more his dear.
-
-  Drinking was his delight, his senses sure to dose,
-  Keeping lewd company, when he should seek repose;
-  His money being spent, and they would tick no score,
-  Then with a face of brass, he ask’d poor Bett for more.
-
-  At length he met with one, a serving-maid in town,
-  Who for good ale and beer would often pawn her gown,
-  And at all-fours she’d play, as many people know,
-  A fairer gamester no man could ever show.
-
-  Tom Skelton, ostler at the King’s Arms does dwell,
-  Who this false Atkinson did all his secrets tell;
-  He let him understand of a new love he’d got,
-  And with an oath he swore, she’d keep full the pot.
-
-  Then for the girl they sent, Bett Hardy was her name,
-  Who to her mistress soon an excuse did frame;
-  Mistress, I have a friend at the King’s Arms doth stay,
-  Which I desire to see, before he goes away.
-
-  Then she goes to her friend, who she finds ready there,
-  Who catch’d her in his arms, how does my only dear?
-  She says, Boys drink about, and fear no reckonings large,
-  For she had pawn’d her smock, for to defray the charge.
-
-  They did carouse it off, till they began to warm,
-  Says Skelton, Make a match, I pray where’s the harm?
-  Then with a loving kiss they straightway did agree,
-  But they no money had, to give the priest a fee.
-
-  Quoth Skelton seriously, The priest’s fee is large,
-  I’ll marry you myself, and save you all the charge;
-  Then they plight their troth unto each other there,
-  Went two miles from the town, and go to bed we hear.
-
-  Then when the morning came, by breaking of the day,
-  He had some corn to grind, he could no longer stay;
-  My business is in haste, which I to thee do tell;
-  So took a gentle kiss, and bid his love farewell.
-
-  Now, when he was come home, and at his business there,
-  His master’s sister came, who was his former dear;
-  Betty, he said, I’m wed, certainly I protest;
-  Then she smile’d in his face, Sure you do but jest.
-
-  Then within few days space, his wife unto him went,
-  And to the sign o’ th’ Last, there she for him sent;
-  The people of the house, finding what was in hand,
-  Stept out immediately, and let Betty understand.
-
-  Now this surprising news caus’d her fall in a trance,
-  Like as if she was dead, no limbs she could advance;
-  Then her dear brother came, her from the ground he took;
-  And she spake up and said, O my poor heart is broke.
-
-  Then with all speed they went, for to undo her lace,
-  Whilst at her nose and mouth her heart’s blood ran apace:
-  Some stood half dead by her, others for help inquire,
-  But in a moment’s time her life it did expire.
-
-      False hearted lovers all, let this a warning be,
-      For it may well be called Betty Howson’s tragedy.
-
-🖙 The above shews how one John Atkinson, of Morton, near Appleby,
-courted Betty Howson, of Barnardcastle Bridge-end; and, after having
-gained her affections, forsook her for another; upon which, she broke
-her heart and died.
-
-
-
-
-_A SONG_ IN PRAISE OF THE DURHAM MILITIA.
-
-
-Tune--_The Lillies of France._
-
-  Militia boys for my theme I now chuse,
-  (Your aid I implore to assist me, my muse,)
-  Whilst here I relate of the Durham youths’ fame,
-  Who chearful appear’d when these new tidings came,
-  That to Barnardcastle they must march away,
-  Embody’d to be, without stop or delay.
-
-  What tho’ some cowards have betook them to flight,
-  And for their king and country scorn for to fight,
-  Yet we Durham boys, who jovial appear,
-  Right honest we’ll be, and we’ll banish all fear,
-  When head of the front, how martial we see
-  Our Colonel so brave, so gallant, and free.
-
-  Whose generous heart, by experience we know,
-  Why need we then dread along with him to go?
-  Then farewell, dear wives, and each kind sweetheart,
-  Pray do not repine that from you we must part;
-  But hark! the drums beat, and the fifes sweetly play,
-  We’re order’d to march now to Richmond straightway.
-
-  Where, clothed in red, and in purple attire,
-  Our exercise then shall be all our desire,
-  Which having acquir’d, then we’ll merrily sing,
-  Success to great George, and the Prussian king,
-  Likewise loyal Pitt, a statesman so bold,
-  Who scorns to be false, for interest or gold.
-
-  If then the Monsieurs should with their crafty guile,
-  E’er dare to molest us on Britain’s fair isle,
-  We’ll laugh at their fury, and malice so strong,
-  To Charon below how we’ll hurl them headlong.
-  Do they think that our muskets useless shall be,
-  When in numbers great, them advancing we see.
-
-  If they do, they’re mista’en, we’ll boldly proceed;
-  And conquer or die, ere ignobly we’ll yield;
-  Then crowned with laurel, (for vent’ring our lives)
-  Home then we’ll return to our sweethearts and wives,
-  What joy will be greater, our fame shall abound,
-  The bells then shall ring, and the trumpets shall sound.
-
-  Let each loyal Briton then fill up his glass,
-  For to drive care away, so round let it pass,
-  Drink a health to king George, who sits on his throne,
-  (Whose power the French to their sorrow have known,)
-  May the Heavens above preserve him from harm,
-  And ever defend him from foreign alarm.
-
-
-
-
-THE LASS OF COCKERTON.
-
-
-Tune--_Low down in the Broom._
-
-  ’Twas on a summer’s evening,
-    As I a roving went,
-  I met a maiden fresh and fair,
-    That was a milking sent.
-  Whose lovely look such sweetness spoke,
-    Divinely fair she shone;
-  With modest face her dwelling-place,
-    I found was Cockerton.[75]
-
-  With raptures fir’d, I eager gaz’d,
-    On this blooming country maid,
-  My roving eye, in quickest search,
-    Each graceful charm survey’d.
-  The more I gaz’d, new wonder rais’d,
-    And still I thought upon
-  Those lovely charms, that so alarms
-    In the Lass of Cockerton.
-
-  Now would the Gods but deign to hear,
-    An artless lover’s prayer;
-  This lovely nymph ’bove all I’d ask,
-    And scorn each other care;
-  True happiness I’d then possess,
-    Her love to share alone;
-  No mortals know what pleasures flow,
-    With the lass of Cockerton.
-
-[75] A village near Darlington.
-
-
-
-
-ROOKHOPE-RYDE.
-
-
-_A Durham Border Song, composed in 1569._
-
-  Rookhope[76] stands in a pleasant place,
-    If the false thieves wad let it be;
-  But away they steal our goods apace,
-    And ever an ill death may they die!
-
-  And so is the man of Thirlwa’ ’nd Willie-haver,
-    And all their companies thereabout,
-  That is minded to do mischief hither,
-    And at their stealing stands not out.
-
-  But yet we will not slander them all,
-    For there is of them good enough;
-  It is a sore consumed tree
-    That on it bears not one fresh bough.
-
-  Lord God! is not this a pitiful case,
-    That men dare not drive their goods to t’ fell,
-  But limmer thieves drives them away,
-    That fears neither heaven nor hell.
-
-  Lord, send us peace into the realm,
-    That every man may live on his own!
-  I trust to God, if it be his will,
-    That Weardale-men may never be overthrown.
-
-  For great troubles they’ve had in hand,
-    With borderers pricking hither and thither,
-  But the greatest fray that e’er they had,
-    Was with the men of Thirlwa’ ’nd Willie-haver.
-
-  They gather’d together so royally,
-    The stoutest men and the best in gear;
-  And he that rade not on a horse,
-    I wat he rade on a weil-fed mear.
-
-  So in the morning before they came out,
-    So well I wot they broke their fast,
-  In the [forenoon they came] unto a bye fell,
-    Where some of them did eat their last.
-
-  When they had eaten aye and done,
-    They say’d, some captains here needs must be:
-  Then they choos’d forth Harry Corbyl,
-    And ‘Symon Fell,’ and Martin Ridley.
-
-  Then o’er the moss, where as they came,
-    With many a brank and whew,
-  One of them would to another say,
-    I think this day we are men enew.
-
-  For Weardale-men are a journey ta’en,
-    They are so far out o’er yon fell,
-  That some ofe them’s with the two earls[77]
-    And others fast in Barnard-castell.
-
-  There we shall get gear enough,
-    For there is nane but women at hame;
-  The sorrowful fend that they can make,
-    Is loudly cries as they were slain.
-
-  Then in at Rookhope-head they came,
-    And there they thought tul a’ had their prey;
-  But they were ’spy’d coming over the Dry-rig,
-    Soon upon Saint Nicholas’ Day.
-
-  Then in at Rookhope-head they came,
-    They ran the forest but a mile;
-  They gather’d together in four hours
-    Six hundred sheep within a while.
-
-  And horses I trow they gat,
-    But either ane or twa,
-  And they gat them all but ane
-    That belanged to great Rowley.
-
-  That Rowley was the first man that did them spy,
-    With that he rais’d a mighty cry,
-  The cry it came down Rookhope-burn,
-    And spread through Weardale hasteyly.
-
-  Then word came to the bailiff’s house
-    At the East-gate, where he did dwell,
-  He had walk’d out to the Smale-burns,
-    Which stands above the Hanging-well.
-
-  His wife was wae when she hear’d tell,
-    So well she wist her husband wanted gear,
-  She gar’d saddle him his horse in haste,
-    And neither forgot sword, jack, nor spear.
-
-  The bailiff got wit before his gear came,
-    That such news was in the land;
-  He was sore troubled in his heart,
-    That on no earth that he could stand.
-
-  His brother was hurt three days before,
-    With limmer thieves that did him prick;
-  Nineteen bloody wounds lay him upon;
-    What ferly was’t that he lay sick?
-
-  But yet the bailiff shrinked nought,
-    But fast after them he did hie;
-  And so did all his neighbours near,
-    That went to bear him company.
-
-  But when the bailiff was gathered,
-    And all his company,
-  They were number’d to never a man,
-    But forty under fifty.
-
-  The thieves was number’d a hundred men,
-    I wat they were not of the worst,
-  That could be choosed out of Thirlwa’ ’nd Willie-haver,
-    I trow they were the very first.
-
-  But all that was in Rookhope-head,
-    And all that was i’ Nuketon-cleugh,
-  Where Weardale-men o’ertook the thieves,
-    And there they gave them fighting enough.
-
-  So sore they made them fain to flee,
-    As many was a’ out of land,
-  And for tul have been at home again,
-    They would have been in iron bands:
-
-  And for the space of long seven years,
-    As sore they mighten a’ had their lives;
-  But there was never one of them
-    That ever thought to have seen their wives.
-
-  About the time the fray began,
-    I trow it lasted but an hour,
-  Till many a man lay weaponless,
-    And was sore wounded in that stour.
-
-  Also before that hour was done,
-    Four of the thieves were slain,
-  Besides all those that wounded were,
-    And eleven prisoners there was ta’en.
-
-  George Carrick and his brother Edie,
-    Them two, I wot, they were both slain;
-  Harry Corbyl, and Lennie Carrick,
-    Bore them company in their pain.
-
-  One of our Weardale-men was slain,
-    Rowland Emerson his name hight;
-  I trust to God his soul is well,
-    Because he fought unto the right.
-
-  But thus they said, We’ll not depart
-    While we have one:--Speed back again!
-  And when they came amongst the dead men,
-    There they found George Carrick slain.
-
-  And when they found George Carrick slain,
-    I wot it went well near their heart;
-  Lord let them never make a better end,
-    That comes to play them sicken a part.
-
-  I trust in God no more they shal,
-    Except it be one for a great chance;
-  For God will punish all those
-    With a great heavy pestilence.
-
-  Thir limmer thieves they have good hearts,
-    They never think to be o’erthrown,
-  Three banners against Weardale-men they bare,
-    As if the world had been all their own.
-
-  Thir Weardale-men they have good hearts,
-    They are as stif as any tree,
-  For, if they’d every one been slain,
-    Never a foot back man would flee.
-
-  And such a storm amongst them fell,
-    As I think you never heard the like;
-  For he that bears his head so high,
-    He oft-times falls into the dyke.
-
-  And now I do entreat you all,
-    As many as are present here,
-  To pray for singer of this song,
-    For he sings to make blithe your cheer.
-
-[76] The name of a valley in the north part of the parish of Stanhope,
-in Weardale.
-
-[77] Thomas Percy, earl of Northumberland; and Charles Nevil, earl of
-Westmorland.--November, 1569.
-
-
-
-
-THE SEDGFIELD FROLIC.
-
-
-  Come all the gallant brave wenches,
-    That love strong liquor so well,
-  And use to fuddle your noses,
-    Come, listen to what I shall tell:
-  Your praises abroad I will thunder,
-    ’Tis pity you should go free,
-  And the wanton lasses of Sedgfield
-    Are roaring company.
-
-  Come, landlady, fill us a bumper,
-    And take no thought for the shot,
-  It’s a sin, as I hope to be saved,
-    To part with an empty pot;
-  Let the glass go merrily round,
-    Our business is jolly to be,
-  And the wanton lasses of Sedgfield
-    Are roaring company.
-
-  Who are they that dare to oppose us,
-    Since altogether we’re met?
-  We’ll tipple and fuddle our noses,
-    Our frolic the more to complete:
-  For our frolic it is begun,
-    And we will end it merrily;
-  And the ranting lasses of Sedgfield
-    Are roaring company.
-
-  There’s Middleton as brisk as a bottle,
-    She merrily leads the van,
-  And Crispe, the butcher’s daughter,
-    She’ll follow as fast as she can.
-  There’s the sempstress and her sister,
-    The rear drive merrily;
-  And the ranting lasses of Sedgfield
-    Are roaring company.
-
-  Each one shall here take her quantum,
-    Thus says brave Middleton;
-  We’ll drink a health to Peg Trantum,
-    And merrily we’ll go on;
-  Let the shot be ever so great,
-    I’ll speak to my landlady;
-  And the ranting lasses of Sedgfield
-    Are roaring company.
-
-  There’s a brave sinking tailor,
-    That hath a brisk handsome wife,
-  And she will convey him the flaggon,
-    To avoid all future strife:
-  And the baker at the next door,
-    She will be the landlady;
-  And the ranting lasses of Sedgfield
-    Are roaring company.
-
-  There’s Branson, an honest fellow,
-    He hath sugar enough in store,
-  If cloves and mace be wanting,
-    We will boldly run on the score;
-  For our wanton frolic is begun,
-    And we’ll end it most merrily;
-  And the wanton lasses of Sedgfield
-    Are roaring company.
-
-  Two wives I had almost forgotten,
-    Whom I must touch in the quick,
-  Being merry at Mr Branson’s,
-    They danc’d round the candlestick;
-  And the tune was “_Juice of the Barley_,”
-    Which made them dance merrily,
-  And long did they hold a parley,
-    And made jolly company.
-
-  In the midst of this great pother,
-    The backish wife came in,
-  She was forc’d to be led by another,
-    Thro’ thick and likewise thin.
-  And thus they did end their frolick,
-    Good fellow, I’ll tell to thee,
-  That the ranting lasses of Sedgfield
-    Are roaring company.
-
-
-
-
-BOBBY SHAFTOE.
-
-
-  Bobby Shaftoe’s gone to sea,
-  With silver buckles at his knee;
-  He’ll come home and marry me,
-    Bonny Bobby Shaftoe.
-
-  Bobby Shaftoe’s bright and fair,
-  Combing down his yellow hair,
-  He’s ma’ ain for ever mair,
-    Bonny Bobby Shaftoe.
-
-  Bobby Shaftoe’s getten a bairn,
-  For to dandle in his arm;
-  In his arm, and on his knee,
-    Bobby Shaftoe loves me.
-        Bobby Shaftoe’s gone to sea, &c.
-
-
-
-
-THE PLEASURES OF SUNDERLAND.
-
-
-  In the fine town of Sunderland which stands on a hill,
-    Which stands on a hill most noble to see,
-  There’s fishing and fowling all in the same town:
-    Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.
-
-  There’s dancing and singing also in the same town,
-    And many hot scolds there are in the week;
-  ’Tis pleasant indeed the market to see,
-    And the young maids that are mild and meek.
-
-  The damsels of Sunderland would, if they could,
-    Welcome brave sailors, when they come from sea,
-  Build a fine tower of silver and gold:
-    Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.
-
-  The young men of Sunderland are pretty blades,
-    And when they come in with these handsome maids,
-  They kiss and embrace, and compliment free:
-    Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.
-
-  In Silver-street there lives one Isabel Rod,
-    She keeps the best ale the town can afford,
-  For gentlemen to drink till they cannot see:
-    Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.
-
-  Sunderland’s a fine place, it shines where it stands,
-    And the more I look on it the more my heart warms;
-  And if I was there I would make myself free:
-    Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.
-
-
-
-
-THE FROLICSOME OLD WOMEN OF SUNDERLAND: _Or, The Disappointed Young
-Maids._
-
-
-_Tune_--They’ll marry tho’ threescore and ten.
-
-  You Sunderland lasses draw near,
-  Sure you are forsaken by men;
-          But the old women, they
-          Forget for to play,
-  But will get married at three score and ten.
-
-  You Sunderland lasses are slow,
-  And yet there’s good choice of young men;
-          The old women, they
-          Do shew you fair play,
-  They get married at threescore and ten.
-
-  A house that’s within full sea mark,
-  Is very well accustomed by men;
-          But better had they
-          To live honest, I say,
-  Or get married at threescore and ten.
-
-  There are sailors that are clever young blades,
-  And keel-bullies like unto them;
-          You maids that are fair,
-          Get married this year,
-  Lest you tarry till threescore and ten.
-
-  The old women carry the day,
-  They beat both the maids and the men;
-          To give Sunderland the sway,
-          For ever and ay,
-  They’ll marry tho’ threescore and ten.
-
-
-
-
-SUNDERLAND BRIDGE.
-
-
-_By_ M.W. _of North Shields_.
-
-    Ye sons of Sunderland, with shouts that rival ocean’s roar,
-  Hail Burdon in his iron boots, who strides from shore to shore!
-  O may ye firm support each leg, or much, O much I fear,
-  Poor Rowland may o’erstretch himself in striding ’cross the Wear!
-  A patent quickly issue out, lest some more bold than he,
-  Should put on larger iron boots, and stride across the sea!
-  Then let us pray for speedy peace, lest Frenchmen should come over,
-  And, fol’wing Burdon’s iron plan, from Calais stride to Dover.
-
-
-
-
-ELSIE MARLEY, _An Alewife at Picktree, near Chester-le-Street._
-
-
-To its own Tune.
-
-  Elsie Marley is grown so fine,
-  She won’t get up to serve her swine,
-  But lies in bed till eight or nine,
-  And surely she does take her time.
-
-      And do you ken Elsie Marley, honey?
-      The wife that sells the barley, honey;
-      She’s lost her pocket and all her money,
-      Aback o’ the bush i’ th’ garden, honey.
-
-  Elsie Marley is so neat,
-  It is hard for one to walk the street,
-  But every lad and lass they meet,
-  Cries, do you ken Elsie Marley, honey?
-
-  Elsie Marley wore a straw hat,
-  Now she’s got a velvet cap,
-  She may thank Lambton men for that,
-  Do you ken Elsie Marley, honey.
-
-  Elsie keeps wine, gin, and ale,
-  In her house below the dale.
-  Where every tradesman up and down,
-  Does call and spend his half-a-crown.
-
-  The farmers, as they come that way,
-  They drink with Elsie every day,
-  And call the fiddler for to play
-  The tune of “_Elsie Marley_,” honey.
-
-  The pitmen and the keelmen trim,
-  They drink bumbo made of gin,
-  And for to dance they do begin,
-  The tune of “_Elsie Marley_,” honey.
-
-  The sailors they will call for flip,
-  As soon as they come from the ship,
-  And then begin to dance and skip,
-  To the tune of “_Elsie Marley_,” honey.
-
-  Those gentlemen that go so fine,
-  They’ll treat her with a bottle of wine,
-  And freely they’ll sit down and dine
-  Along with Elsie Marley, honey.
-
-  So to conclude these lines I’ve penn’d,
-  Hoping there’s none I do offend,
-  And thus my merry joke doth end,
-  Concerning Elsie Marley, honey.
-      And do you ken, &c.
-
-
-
-
-CHESTER LADS FOR EVER.
-
-
-  Thro’ Durham County, fam’d of old,
-  Thro’ England, be it ever told,
-  That Chester lads stood forth so bold,
-          And Chester lads for ever.
-
-  When Frenchmen heard of their intent,
-  To Bonaparte in haste they sent,
-  And said, since Chester thus is bent,
-          We are ruin’d, sirs, for ever.
-
-  O dreadful news! said Bonaparte,
-  Enough to break each Frenchman’s heart;
-  But let us try, with all our art,
-          Those Chester lads to sever.
-
-  Then firmly spoke Monsieur Otto,
-  The Chester lads you little know,
-  If them you think to overthrow;
-          For they will fight for ever.
-
-  Tho’ many millions you have slain,
-  Yet what you’ve done is all in vain;
-  You’ll never beat the Chester men,
-          Nor cope with them--no never.
-
-  The Consul call’d a council straight,
-  And long and learned the debate;
-  Each Frenchman tried, with all his weight,
-          How France he might deliver.
-
-  The issue of this parliament
-  Was peace--the glorious grand event,
-  Which gave each British heart content.
-          And Chester lads for ever!!!
-
-
-
-
-LUMLEY LEADS TO GLORY.
-
-  Come all ye lads who wish to shine
-    Bright in Chester story,
-  Haste to arms, and form the line,
-    Where Lumley leads to glory.
-
-      Charge the musket, point the lance,
-        Brave the worst of dangers;
-      Tell the blustering sons of France,
-        That Chester fears no strangers.
-
-  Chester, when the lion’s rous’d,
-    And the flag is rearing,
-  Always finds her sons dispos’d
-    To drub the foe that’s daring.
-      Charge the musket, &c.
-
-  Honor for the brave to share,
-    Is the noblest booty;
-  Guard the coast, protect the fair,
-    For that’s a Briton’s duty.
-      Charge the musket, &c.
-
-  Beat the drums, the music sound,
-    Manly and united;
-  Danger face, maintain your ground,
-    And see your country righted.
-      Charge the musket, &c.
-
-
-
-
-CHESTER VOLUNTEERS.
-
-
-Tune--_There’s na Luck about the House._
-
-  And are ye sure the tale is true?
-    Again the news relate,
-  That Chester is to raise a corps
-    To fight for king and state.
-      Then let us fill a bumper full,
-        To Scarborough’s noble thane,
-      Who under his protection has
-        The men of Chester ta’en.
-
-  If Chester men are firm and true,
-    And by each other stand,
-  No foreign foe can venture then
-    To stain our native land.
-  But if they should assail our coast,
-    Compell’d by want and need,
-  When Chester banners are display’d,
-    They’ll fly from hence with speed.
-      Then let us fill, &c.
-
-  In former times our Chester youths
-    Their country’s foes expell’d;
-  Whose conquering monarch, in those days,
-    The crowns of Europe held:
-  Should then the sons of France pretend
-    With Chester Sons to vie,
-  If they suppose they’re better men,
-    E’en let them come and try.
-      Then let us fill, &c.
-
-  The king our noble father is,
-    The queen our mother dear;
-  The prince’s brothers soldiers are,
-    Whom we shall here revere:
-  Them we’ll defend with might and main,
-    Against all sorts of foes;
-  Should they command to fight like men,
-    Or aim their treacherous blows.
-      Then let us fill, &c.
-
-
-
-
-THE DURHAM VOLUNTEERS.
-
-
-Tune--_Anacreon in Heaven._
-
-  When Britannia her sons calls to aid her in arms,
-    And fell war, with its horrors, our island does threat,
-  The true British feeling each bosom that warms,
-    Prompts away to the beach, the invader to meet.
-            And along with the brave,
-            Who their country will save,
-  And whose only retreat is a glorious grave.
-  See each son of Dunelm, and the old winding Wear,
-  The patriot, the loyal, the brave Volunteer.
-
-  Let the foes of old England unite to enslave
-    Her free bands, from whose fury so oft they have fled;
-  We’ll prove, by their ruin who escape the wild wave,
-    We can fight like our sires, who at Agincourt bled;
-            Their great deeds we’ll review,
-            And example pursue,
-  And prove we’ve the blood of the same race so true.
-  Determined to save what than life is more dear,
-  Our country, our laws, march each brave Volunteer.
-
-  Vain boasting Monsieur always lower’d his proud flag,
-    Whenever he met our bold tars on the sea;
-  And of conquest on shore let the Corsican brag;
-    Here the length of their graves their sole conquest shall be!
-            Let them vapour and threat,
-            Boast their armies so great,
-  Old England united can never be beat:
-  This often prov’d fact each loyal heart cheers,
-  Of their country’s best guardians, her brave Volunteers.
-
-  The proud Don, through all time, shall his madness deplore,
-    When his Wealth and his Indies are conquer’d by thee;
-  And treach’rous Mynheer mourn, a vassal, once more,
-    From the shackles of which, our brave sires made him free.
-            Then Mynheer, Don, and Gaul,
-            We here challenge you all,
-  And believe British bayonets will your spirits appal;
-  For your pride to chastise, see a nation appears;
-  In the van march her loyal, her brave Volunteers!
-
-  Come the day when the foe on our shore dare descend,
-    Like the lion defending his den, each will feel;
-  For the world ’gainst our safety in vain will contend,
-    While fair freedom and courage support their lov’d weal:
-            And along with the brave,
-            Who their country will save,
-  And whose only retreat is a glorious grave,
-  With the first in the field, ’gainst each foe will appear,
-  The loyal and patriot sons of the Wear.
-
-_February, 1805._
-
-
-
-
-KING JAMES I. _in the 15th year of his Reign, came to Durham on
-Good Friday, April, 1617, where he was kindly received by the Mayor
-and Corporation of that loyal City, and, on his Entrance, the Body
-Corporate addressed him as follows_:--
-
-
-  Durham’s old city thus salutes her king,
-  With entertainments such as she can bring;
-  And cannot wait upon his majesty,
-  With shew of greatness, but humility,
-  Makes her express herself in moderate guise:
-  In this deserted north, far from your eyes;
-  For your great prelate (James) of late adored,
-  Her dignities, for which we oft implored
-  Your highest aid, to give continuance;
-  And so confirmed by your dread sovereignce:
-  But what our royal James did grant herein,
-  Our bishop James hath much oppugnant been.
-  Small force bears down small power, where force and might
-  Hath greater strength than equity and right.
-  The last are only in your breast included:
-  Subjects’ griefs known, are ne’er from you secluded;
-  From your most gracious grant we therefore pray,
-  That the fair sunshine of your brightest day,
-  Would smile upon your city, whose clear beams
-  Exhale the troubles of our former streams;
-  Let not, O Powerful Prince, our ancient state,
-  For one man’s will, to be depopulate!
-
-  Tho’ one seeks our undoing, yet to you,
-  All our hearts pray, and all our knees shall bow;
-  And this dull cell of earth, in which we live,
-  Unto your name its latest praise shall give;
-  Confirm our grant, good king! Durham’s old city
-  Will powerful be, if bless’d with James’s pity.
-
-The verses being ended, the mayor was placed in rank next before the
-sword borne before the king, and bearing the mace of the city all the
-way to the Cathedral Church.
-
-
-
-
-DURHAM OLD WOMEN.
-
-
-  As aw was gannin to Durham
-    Aw met wi’ three jolly brisk women,
-  Aw ask’d what news at Durham?
-    They said joyful news is coming:
-  There’s three sheep’s heads i’ the pot,
-    A peck o’ peasmeal in the pudding.
-  They jump’d, laugh’d, and skipp’d at that,
-    For the joyful days are coming.
-                                Fal la la.
-
-
-
-
-EPITAPH _On JOHN SIMPSON, of Hamsterly, Woolcomber._
-
-
-BY ISAAC GARNER.
-
-  While visiting this dark abode,
-    Here, reader, turn thy wand’ring eyes;
-  Tread light, for underneath this sod,
-    SIMPSON, the _Village Poet_, lies.
-
-  The people’s follies, and their vice,
-    As frequently as he found leisure,
-  He hunted down (as cats do mice)
-    In strains of true poetic measure.
-
-  So neatly he his subject hit,
-    So well he temper’d truth with sense;
-  The simple marvell’d at his wit,
-    And wise men seldom took offence.
-
-  His genius and invention such,
-    From each event he’d something gather;
-  For nought ’scap’d his satiric touch,
-    That fairly came within his tether.
-
-  _Nor ’scap’d he death_;--His race is run,
-    (So fall the witty and the brave!)
-  His wool is comb’d, his thread is spun;
-    And daisies flourish round his grave!
-
-
-
-
-ODE _To the River Darwent._
-
-
-  Lov’d stream, that meanders along,
-    Where the steps of my infancy stray’d;
-  When first I attun’d the rude song,
-    That nature all artless essay’d.
-
-  Though thy borders be stripp’d of each tree,
-    That smil’d in their vernal array;
-  Their image still pictures to me,
-    Thy villagers gambolling gay.
-
-  Nor by fancy shall aught be unseen,
-    While thy fountains flow murmuring by;
-  I have danc’d in the Dance on the green,
-    I have wept with the woe-begun age.
-
-  Thy blessings how many and rare!
-    Far distant the mildue of health,
-  Where guilt vainly decorates care,
-    And wickedness broods over wealth.
-
-  The dress of the body and mind,
-    For ages exactly the same:
-  No travel the manners refin’d,
-    And fashion pass’d by as it came.
-
-  Ah! which of thy sons canst thou boast,
-    Like Maddison,[78] made to explore:
-  To give to the silver girt coast,
-    The worth that was foreign before!
-
-  Each language, each humour, his own,
-    All Europe was proud to improve;
-  Whom Belgium sits down to bemoan,
-    Whom Gallia could listening love.
-
-  Say, when will thou cease to complain?
-    Oh Darwent, thy destiny cries;
-  Far off, on the banks of the Seine,
-    Thy darling, thy _Maddison_--dies!
-
-[78] Mr Maddison was secretary to the English Ambassador at the
-French Court, about the end of the American war: his death was rather
-singular; the ambassador had been invited to a large dinner party,
-given by some of the members of the French Government; but being
-rather ill at the time, he sent his secretary as his deputy, who went
-accordingly, and came home extremely ill, and soon after died, with all
-the symptoms of being poisoned; a mark of favour which the French had
-intended to have paid to the ambassador, had not fortune forbid it! The
-circumstances of this curious affair, which made considerable noise at
-the time, were never rightly known.
-
-
-
-
-THE HEXHAMSHIRE LASS.
-
-
-  Its hey for the buff and the blue,
-    Hey for the cap and the feather;
-  Hey for the bonny lassie true,
-    That lives in Hexhamshire.
-            Thro’ by the Saiby Syke,
-              And o’er the moss and the mire,
-            I’ll go to see my lass,
-              Who lives in Hexhamshire.
-
-  Her father lov’d her well,
-    Her mother lov’d her better;
-  I love the lass mysel’,
-    But, alas! I cannot get her.
-            Thro’ by, &c.
-
-  Oh, this love, this love!
-    Of this love I am weary!
-  Sleep I can get none,
-    For thinking on my deary!
-            Thro’ by, &c.
-
-  My heart is like to break,
-    My bosom is on fire;
-  So well I love the lass
-    That lives in Hexhamshire.
-            Thro’ by, &c.
-
-  Her petticoat is silk,
-    And plaited round with siller;
-  Her shoes are tied with tape,
-    She’ll wait ’til I go till her.
-            Thro’ by, &c.
-
-  Were I where I would be,
-    I would be beside her;
-  But here a while I must be,
-    Whatever may betide her.
-            Thro’ by, &c.
-
-  Hey for the thick and the thin,
-    Hey for the mud and the mire;
-  And hey for the bonny lass
-    That lives in Hexhamshire.
-            Thro’ by, &c.
-
-
-
-
-_The Northumbrian’s Sigh for his native Country._
-
-
-  At home wad I be,
-  And my supper wad I see,
-  And marry with a lass
-  Of my own country.
-
-  If I were at hame,
-  I wad ne’er return agean,
-  But marry with a lass
-  In my own country.
-
-  There’s the oak and the ash,
-  And the bonny ivy tree;
-  How canst thou gan away, love,
-  And leave me?
-
-  O stay, my love, stay,
-  And do not gang away;
-  O stay, my love, stay,
-  Along with me.
-
-
-
-
-A YOU A, HINNY BURD.
-
-
-For an explanation of this title, see Brand’s Popular Antiquities.
-
-  Its O but I ken well,
-            A you, hinny burd,
-  The bonny lass of Benwell;
-            A you a.
-
-  She’s lang legg’d and mother like,
-            A you, hinny burd;
-  See she’s raking up the dyke,
-            A you a.
-
-  The Quayside for sailors,
-            A you, hinny burd;
-  The Castle Garth for Tailors,
-            A you a.
-
-  The Gateshead Hills for Millers,
-            A you, hinny burd;
-  The North Shore for keelers,
-            A you a.
-
-  There’s Sandgate for aud rags,
-            A you, hinny burd;
-  And Gallowgate for trolly bags,
-            A you a.
-
-  There’s Denton and Kenton,
-            A you, hinny burd;
-  And canny Lang Benton,
-            A you a.
-
-  There’s Tynemouth and Cullercoats,
-            A you, hinny burd;
-  And Shields for the sculler boats,
-            A you a.
-
-  There’s Horton and Holywell,
-            A you, hinny burd;
-  And bonny Seaton Delaval,
-            A you a.
-
-  Hartley Pans for sailors,
-            A you, hinny burd;
-  And Bedlington for nailors,
-            A you a.
-
-
-
-
-UP THE RAW.
-
-
-  Up the raw, ma bonny hinny,
-    Up the raw, lass, every day;
-  For shape and colour, ma bonny hinny,
-    Thou bangs thy mother, ma canny bairn.
-
-  Up the raw, ma bonny hinny,
-    Thou BANGS THEM A’, lass every day;
-  Thou’s a’ _clagcanded_, ma bonny hinny,
-    Thou’s double _japanded_, ma canny bairn.
-
-  For hide and hue, ma bonny hinny,
-    Thou bangs the crew, my canny bairn;
-  Up the raw, ma bonny hinny,
-    Thou bangs them a’, lass, ma canny bairn.
-
-
-
-
-BROOM BUSOMS.
-
-
-Besoms, so pronounced.
-
-  If ye want a busom,
-    For to sweep your house;
-  Come to me, my lasses,
-    Ye ma ha’ your choose.
-              Buy broom busoms,
-                Buy them when they’re new;
-              Buy broom busoms,
-                Better never grew.
-
-  If I had a horse,
-    I would have a cart;
-  If I had a wife,
-    She would take my part.
-              Buy broom busoms, &c.
-
-  Had I but a wife,
-    I care not who she be;
-  If she be a woman,
-    That’s enough for me.
-              Buy broom busoms, &c.
-
-  If she lik’d a drop,
-    Her and I’d agree;
-  If she did not like it,
-    There’s the more for me.
-              Buy broom busoms, &c.
-
-_To the foregoing Verses, BLIND WILLY (the native Minstrel of
-Newcastle) has added the following simple Rhymes:--_
-
-  Up the Butcher Bank,
-    And down Byker Chare;
-  There you’ll see the lasses,
-    Selling brown ware.
-              Buy broom busoms, &c.
-
-  Along the Quayside,
-    Stop at Russell’s Entry;
-  There you’ll see the beer drawer,
-    She is standing sentry.
-              Buy broom busoms, &c.
-
-  If you want an oyster,
-    For to taste your mouth,
-  Call at Handy Walker’s,
-    He’s a bonny youth.
-              Buy broom busoms, &c.
-
-  Call at Mr Loggie’s,
-    He does sell good wine;
-  There you’ll see the beer drawer,
-    She is very fine.
-              Buy broom busoms, &c.
-
-  If you want an orange,
-    Ripe and full of juice;
-  Gan to Hannah Black,
-    There you’ll get your choose.
-              Buy broom busoms, &c.
-
-  Call at Mr Turner’s,
-    At the Queen’s Head;
-  He’ll not set you away,
-    Without a piece bread.
-              Buy broom busoms, &c.
-
-  Down the river side,
-    As far as Dent’s Hole;
-  There you’ll see the cuckolds,
-    Working at the coal.
-              Buy broom busoms, &c.
-
-
-
-
-THE WAGGONER.
-
-
-  Saw ye owt o’ ma’ lad,
-    Gang down the waggon way?
-  His pocket full of money,
-    And his poke full of hay.
-
-  Aye but he’s a bonny lad,
-    As ever ye did see;
-  Tho’ he’s sair pock brocken,
-    And he’s blind of an e’e.
-
-  There’s ne’er a lad like ma’ lad,
-    Drives to a staith on Tyne;
-  Tho’ coal-black on work days,
-    On holidays he’s fine.
-
-  Ma’ lad’s a bonny lad,
-    The bonniest I see;
-  Wiv his fine posey waistcoat,
-    And buckles at his knee.
-
-
-
-
-BRANDLING AND RIDLEY.
-
-
-  Brandling for ever, and Ridley for aye,
-    Brandling and Ridley carries the day!
-  Brandling for ever, and Ridley for aye,
-    There’s plenty of coals on our waggon way.
-
-  There’s wood for to cut, and coals for to hew,
-    And the bright star of Heaton will carry us through:
-  Ridley for ever, and Brandling for aye,
-    There’s plenty of coals on our waggon way.
-
-
-
-
-MY LADDIE.
-
-
-  My laddie sits owre late up,
-    My laddie sits owre late up,
-  My laddie sits owre late up,
-    With the pint pot and the cup.
-
-  How Johnny cum hame to yur bairn,
-    How Johnny cum hame to yur bairn,
-  How Johnny cum hame to yur bairn,
-    Wiv a rye loaf under yur airm.
-
-  He addles three ha’pence a week,
-    That’s nobbit a fardin a day;
-  He sits with a pipe in his cheek,
-    And he fuddles his money away.
-
-  My laddie is never the near,
-    My laddie is never the near:
-  And when I cry out, “Lad, cum hame!”
-    He calls out again for mair beer.
-        My laddie sits, &c.
-
-
-
-
-THE SANDGATE LASSIE’s LAMENT.
-
-
-_BY HENRY ROBSON._
-
-    They’ve prest my dear Johnny,
-    Sae sprightly and bonny,--
-  Alack! I shall ne’er mair d’ weel, O:
-    The kidnapping squad,
-    Laid hold of my lad,
-  As he was unmooring the keel, O.
-                O my sweet laddie,
-                My canny keel laddie,
-              Sae handsome, sae canty, and free, O;
-                Had he staid on the Tyne,
-                Ere now he’d been mine,
-              But oh! he’s far over the sea, O.
-
-    Should he fall by commotion,
-    Or sink in the ocean,
-  (May sick tidings ne’er come to the _Key_, O)
-    I could ne’er mair be glad,
-    For the loss of my lad
-  Wad break my poor heart, and I’d _dee_, O!
-                O my sweet laddie, &c.
-
-    But should my dear tar
-    Come safe from the war,
-  What heart-bounding joy wad I feel, O;
-    To the church we wad flee,
-    And married be,
-  And again he shall row in his keel, O.
-                O my sweet laddie, &c.
-
-    O my sweet laddie,
-    My canny keel laddie,
-  Sae handsome, sae canty, and free, O:
-    Tho’ far from the Tyne,
-    I still hope he’ll be mine,
-  And live happy as any can be, O.
-                O my sweet laddie, &c.
-
-
-
-
-THE INVITATION.
-
-
-  Neighbours I’m come for to tell ye, our skipper and Moll’s to be wed,
-  And if it be true what they’re saying, egad we’ll be all rarely fed;
-  They’ve brought home a shoulder of mutton, besides two thumping fat
-                                                                geese,
-  And when at the fire they’re roasting, we’re all to have sops in the
-                                                                grease.
-          Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.
-
-  And there’ll be pies and spice dumplings, and there’ll be bacon and peas;
-  Besides a great lump of beef boiled, and they may get crowdies who
-                                                                    please:
-  To eat such good things as these are, I’m sure ye’ve but seldom the luck;
-  Beside, for to make us some pottage, there’ll be a sheep’s head and a
-                                                                     pluck.
-          Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.
-
-  Of sausages there’ll be plenty, black puddings, sheep fat, and neats’
-                                                                    tripes;
-  Besides, for to warm all your noses, great store of tobacco and pipes:
-  A room, they say, there’s provided for us at “The Old Jacob’s Well;”
-  The bridegroom he went there this morning, and spoke for a barrel o’
-                                                                     yell.
-          Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.
-
-  There’s sure to be those things I’ve mention’d, and many things else, and
-                                                                   I learn,
-  White bread and butter and sugar, there’s to please every bonny young
-                                                                     bairn:
-  Of each dish and glass you’ll be welcome to eat and to drink ’till you
-                                                                     stare;
-  I’ve told you what meat’s to be at it, I’ll tell you next who’s to be
-                                                                     there.
-          Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.
-
-  Why there’ll be Peter the hangman, who flogs folks at the cart tail,
-  And Bob, with his new sark and ruffle, made out of an old _keel sail_!
-  And Tib on the Quay, who sells oysters, whose mother oft strove to
-                                                                  persuade,
-  To keep her from the lads, but she would’nt, untill she got by them
-                                                                  betray’d.
-          Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.
-
-  And there’ll be Sandy the cobler, whose belly’s as round as a cag,
-  And Doll, with her short petticoats, to display her white stockings
-                                                                  and leg;
-  And Sall, who when snug in a corner, a sixpence they say won’t refuse,
-  She curs’d when her father was drown’d, because he had on his new shoes.
-          Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.
-
-  And there’ll be Sam the quack doctor, of skill and profession he’ll
-                                                                   crack;
-  And Jack who would fain be a soldier, but for a great hump on his back;
-  And Tom in the streets for his living, who grinds razors, scissars, and
-                                                                   knives;
-  And two or three merry old women, that calls, “Mugs and dublers, wives.”
-          Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.
-
-  But neighbours, I’d almost forgot, for to tell ye exactly at one,
-  The dinner will be on the table, and music will play ’till its done:
-  When you’ll be all heartily welcome, of this merry feast for to share,
-  But if you won’t come at this bidding, why then you may stay where
-                                                                 you are.
-          Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.
-
-
-
-
-A SONG, _written and sung by_ H.F.H. _at the opening of Jarrow
-Colliery, September 26th, 1803_.
-
-
-  Old _Jarrow_, long-fam’d for monastical lore,
-  Where Bede, rusty manuscripts search’d o’er and o’er;
-  Now see us assembl’d, upon her green swa’d,
-  With faces all smiling, and spirits full glad.
-                                          Fal lal de ral la.
-
-  No long chaunt of Friars now steals thro’ her glooms,
-  No lazy cowl’d monk now her viands consumes;
-  But chearful the strain which our voices upraise,
-  And active the man, who partakes of our praise.
-                                          Fal lal de ral la.
-
-  Yet still in researches her sons shew their might,
-  Still labour in darkness to bring good to light:
-  Thro’ legends and fables the friars explor’d,
-  Thro’ strata of rubbish the miners have bor’d.
-                                          Fal lal de ral la.
-
-  The labours of both with success have been crown’d,
-  And the miner to Bede is in gratitude bound;
-  For while ignorance reign’d from the line to the pole,
-  In convents the nooks preserv’d sciences--_Coal_.
-                                          Fal lal de ral la.
-
-  By science and spirit what great deeds are done,
-  By the union of these, this rich Coal Pit is won:
-  And safe from their labours, the lads of the mine,
-  Now foot it away with the girls of the Tyne.
-                                          Fal lal de ral la.
-
-  On ship-board soon plac’d, and impel’d by the gale,
-  For Augusta’s proud towers the produce will sail;
-  Employment it gives to th’ indust’rous and brave,
-  And its trade’s the best nurse for the sons of the wave.
-                                          Fal lal de ral la.
-
-  Hail, commerce! thou parent of Albion’s weal,
-  Let Frenchmen still brandish their threatening steel,
-  To drag thee from England, her sons will not yield,
-  They’ll carry thee on, yet prepare for the field.
-                                          Fal lal de ral la.
-
-  These brave lads around us, their tools will lay down,
-  And fight for their country, their king, and his crown!
-  But the Frenchmen destroy’d, or drove back to the main,
-  They’ll take up the Pick-axe and shovel again.
-                                          Fal lal de ral la.
-
-  In union thus ever be commerce and arms,
-  When a tyrant’s ambition creates it alarms;
-  And secure in their courage, let Britons still sing,
-  Britannia triumphant, and God save the king!
-                                          Fal lal de ral la.
-
-  Your glasses now fill to the lord of the mine,
-  And drink him long life in a goblet of wine:
-  On this joyous day let no bosom be sad,
-  But bumper it round to “the bonny pit lad.”
-                                          Fal lal de ral la.
-
-
-
-
-A SOUTH SHIELDS SONG _ON THE SAILORS._
-
-
-  The sailors are all at the bar,
-    They cannot get up to Newcastle;
-  The sailors are all at the bar,
-    They cannot get up to Newcastle.
-        Up with smoky Shields,
-          And hey for bonny Newcastle;
-        Up with smoky Shields,
-          And hey for bonny Newcastle.
-
-
-
-
-A NORTH SHIELDS SONG.
-
-
-  We’ll all away to the Lowlights,
-    And there we’ll see the sailors come in;
-  We’ll all away to the Lowlights,
-    And there we’ll see the sailors come in.
-
-  There clap your hands and give a shout,
-    And you’ll see the sailors go out;
-  Clap your hands and dance and sing,
-    And you’ll see your laddie come in.
-
-
-
-
-MONKSEATON RACES.
-
-
-_July 1st, 1812._
-
-BY A SPECTATOR.
-
-    Six centuries since, some say, a son of South Seaton[79],
-  Was mulct for a monk he to mummy had beaten;
-  The prior there pilfer’d the prow of a pig,
-  And Delaval drub’d well the pillaging prig!
-  In commemoration of that great event,
-  Each anniversary in eclat is spent:
-  Though landlords liege-legates are bound to obey,
-  That country carousal’s kept up to this day.
-
-    A sum by subscription was quickly collected,
-  As none to contribute their quota objected;
-  Half-guineas the highest, the lowest a shilling;
-  And seamen and landmen were equally willing:
-  Hence hand-bills were pasted up in public places,
-  To state both the time and the term of these races;
-  Explaining the prizes, and pastoral plays,
-  Prolonging these pastimes the space of three days.
-
-    The stewards instructed the cash to collect,
-  Kept debtor and creditor scrolls quite correct;
-  To purchase such prizes as were preconcerted,
-  The coin was with consummate caution converted;
-  To furnish out fun for friends, strangers, and neighbours,
-  These gents to gymnastics gave gratis their labours;
-  Lest fair play, by precepts, might not be promoted,
-  From the racing calendar cases they quoted.
-
-    Quaff-cups for quadrupeds accustom’d to courses,
-  And handsome cart-harness for husbandry horses;
-  With saddles and bridles for hunters and hacks,
-  And plate spurs for ponies that pay no _Pitt-tax_:
-  Spring whips made for mules, and good armour for asses,
-  And harlequin habits for lads and for lasses;
-  Gloves, hats, hose, and handkerchiefs, shirts, shifts, and shoes,
-  To run, gape, or grin for, as candidates choose.
-
-    With multitudes mingled the turf was attended,
-  Like barley and beans, there the belles and beaux blended;
-  From town and the country such numbers assembled,
-  The race-ground a Newcastle meeting resembled;
-  Which cohorts all creeds and conditions comprised,
-  And dresses, distinctions, and deserts disguised;
-  By vintners made vivid, their views became various,
-  Amusements were many, and mirth multifarious.
-
-    The racers (at _Watson’s_) were regularly enter’d,
-  And money at booking was formally ventur’d;
-  A Newmarket rider, rear’d in racing stables,
-  Conversant in quirks, and acquainted with cabals;
-  Whose powers of profession were priz’d upon paction,
-  And principles privately put up to auction:
-  Some Monkseaton farmers on fraud plac’d affiance,
-  But saw in the sequel their rotten reliance.
-
-    By bribing that brigand, this son of deception
-  Receiv’d ready rhino, yet made his election;
-  This presto, his pupils to peasants prefer’d;
-  In bilking his brethren, the eft would have err’d!
-  To gull’d speculators, a vulcan as vile,
-  Stak’d too with turf-students in tangible style,
-  Till duped delinquents were doom’d through the day,
-  Their debts of dishonour on peril to pay.
-
-    Corruption creeps into both commerce and courts,
-  Then who can repel it from rural resorts?
-  As all public places are pester’d with prowlers,
-  The streets are stagnated with stigmatiz’d strollers;
-  And some sanguine swindlers, though subtile and snug,
-  Plunge into the pit they for others had dug;
-  The same at Monkseaton, the mass must admit,
-  (With self-satisfaction) “_The biters were bit_”!!!
-
-[79] South Seaton, so called at the time; but afterwards Monk Seaton,
-where ---- Delaval, Esq. so completely castigated a covetous capuchin
-as to cause his death; for so doing, however, great part of his
-possessions were forfeited.--See the _History of Tynemouth_.
-
-
-
-
-THE ALARM!!! _Or, Lord Fauconberg’s March._
-
-
-On the commencement of the impress service, in March, 1793,
-considerable riots took place at Shields, which were represented at
-Newcastle, in a thousand terrific shapes; and a false alarm having been
-given at the Mansion House, the drums of the York Militia beat to arms;
-Lord Fauconberg marched that regiment to the house of Rendezvous in the
-Broad Chare, and then marched back again.
-
-  God prosper long our _warlike_ king,
-    And noblemen also,
-  Who valiantly, with sword in hand,
-    Doth guard us from each foe.
-
-  No sooner did lord Fauconberg,
-    With heart undaunted, hear
-  That news to Gotham had been brought,
-    Which caus’d our mayor to fear.
-
-  Then up he rose, with eyes on fire,
-    Most dreadful to the view;
-  To arms! to arms! aloud he cry’d,
-    And forth his faulchion drew.
-
-  To arms! to arms! full long and sore,
-    The rattling drums did beat;
-  To arms! in haste! each soldier flies,
-    And scours thro’ ev’ry street.
-
-  The women shriek, and wring their hands,
-    Their children weep around;
-  Whilst some, more wise, fast bolt their doors,
-    And hide them under ground.
-
-  The French are at our _gates_, they cry,
-    And we shall all be slain;
-  For _Dumourier_ is at their head,
-    And that arch traitor _Paine_.
-
-  In haste drawn up, in fair array,
-    Our Yorkshire guards are seen;
-  And mounted on a jet black stud,
-    Lord Fauconberg, I ween,--
-
-  Who bravely gave the word to march,
-    And furiously did ride;
-  And prancing first, great Brunswick like,
-    ’Twas well the streets were wide.
-
-  From Newgate, down to the Broad Chare,
-    They march’d with might and main;
-  Then gallantly they turned them round,
-    And so “_march’d up again_.”
-
-  Then fill a bumper to the brim,
-    And drink to Gotham’s mayor;
-  And when again he hears such news,
-    May Fauconberg be there.
-
-
-
-
-THE PATRIOT VOLUNTEERS: OR, _Loyally Display’d._
-
-
-BY CLARINDA.
-
-In the year 1795, a corps of volunteers were raised in Newcastle,
-consisting of one grenadier, one light infantry, and two batallion
-companies, they received their colours in the Forth, from Mrs Mayoress,
-August 25th, 1795.
-
-    There is not in the world’s terraqueous round,
-  A better king or constitution found,
-  Than lov’d Britannia’s sea girt Realms can claim,
-  As rich in Blessings, as renown’d in Fame;
-  Her laws, and Social Liberty, design’d,
-  To perfect happiness, and dignify mankind.
-
-    These to preserve, through each succeeding Age,
-  Our Patriot Volunteers with zeal engage.
-  Behold them brilliant on the shores of Tyne,
-  Newcastle Heroes Gateshead Heroes join!
-  All free-born Sons, they Freedom’s Rights defend,
-  And each to each secures a steady Friend!
-  Whilst snarling Disaffection slinks away,
-  These HEARTS OF GOLD true loyalty display;
-  These HEARTS OF GOLD this Standard Truth proclaim,
-  _Our King and Constitution are the same!_
-
-    Advance, Brave Men! assert your Country’s Cause,
-  Exertions only can support her Laws.
-  For Vigilence, precarious Moments call,
-  The danger’s obvious, and concerns us All.
-  A cool supineness, timid hearts may try,
-  But manly courage must the means supply.
-  Sue we for Peace? that Peace is surest found,
-  Where honest fortitude maintains its ground.
-
-    We have at home, alas! some secret foes,
-  Which, well as Frenchmen, valour must oppose.
-  Though savage TERRORISTS their Schemes pursue,
-  And still mislead a blind ungrateful Crew;
-  Keep ye but firm, the martial Charge to bear,
-  _Your brave Associates and yourselves revere?_
-  Ferocious Monsters must e’er long decline,
-  And MODERATION draw her equal Line:
-  So shall ye meet a Nation’s highest praise,
-  And Love and Beauty crown your future Days;
-  For Love and Beauty ever wait on Fame,
-  Each Hero’s glory, and triumphal Claim.
-
-_Newcastle, Forth House, 1st July, 1795._
-
-
-
-
-CULL, _alias_ SILLY BILLY, _Of Newcastle upon Tyne._
-
-
-This well known character, William Scott, commonly called Cull Billy, a
-name known in most parts of the north, is a native of Newcastle, where
-he resided along with his mother, a poor old woman, who made her living
-by retailing wooden ware; she like her son was an object of distress,
-being not above four feet high.
-
-Billy, poor man, oft excited compassion from his fellow creatures,
-while reciting (which he did with a great degree of exactness, and
-in such a distinct and clear manner as to surprise many) the Lord’s
-Prayer, several other prayers, passages from scripture, &c. to a
-numerous audience of boys; but they generally repaid his endeavours for
-their welfare with a shower of dirt or stones.
-
-Oft have they followed him around the streets, beating and hooting him,
-as boys hunt a cat or dog; and yet no notice was taken of this, until
-one, more compassionate than the rest, stept forward and interceded
-for him, in the following lines, which were published in the Newcastle
-Chronicle of the 28th of August, 1802, with the signature of J.S.
-
-  Whence those _cries_, my soul that harrow?
-    Whence those _yells_, that wound my ear?
-  ’Tis the hapless child of sorrow!
-    ’Tis poor Billy’s plaint I hear.
-  Now, in _tatter’d plight_ I see him,
-    Teazing crowds around him press;
-  Ah! will none from insult free him?
-    None his injuries redress?
-
-  Fill’d with many a fearful notion,
-    Now he utters piercing cries;
-  Starting now, with sudden motion,
-    Swiftly thro’ the streets he hies.
-  Poor, forlorn, and hapless creature,
-    Victim of insanity!
-  Sure it speaks a ruthless nature,
-    To oppress a wretch like thee.
-
-  When, by generous friends protected,
-    All thy actions told thee mild,
-  Tho’ by _reason_ undirected,
-    And the prey of fancies wild.
-  Of those friends did Heav’n deprive thee,
-    None, alas! supply’d their place?
-  And to madness now to drive thee,
-    Ceaseless strives a cruel race.
-
-  Youth forlorn! tho’ crowds deride thee,
-    Gentle minds for thee must grieve;
-  Back to _reason_, wish to guide thee,
-    And thy ev’ry want relieve,
-  O from this sad state to snatch thee,
-    Why delay the _good_ and _kind_?
-  _Pity_ calls them on to watch thee,
-    And to tranquilize thy mind.
-
-Soon after the publication of this, the overseers of the parish of
-Saint John’s, (in which parish Billy resided) had him conveyed to their
-Poor House, without the walls of Newcastle, where he was kept confined
-until the turbulence of his spirit was reduced.
-
-Several persons have felt the power of Billy’s wit, which on some
-occasions has been very severe. Once, when a person of the name of ----
-(not one of the wisest beings of the world) came swaggering out of a
-tavern, while Bill was haranguing the mob at the door. “Stand out of
-the way!” cries this would-be great man, shaking his cane in the air,
-“Stand out of the way! I never give way to fools!” “_But I do_,” cries
-Billy, bowing, and instantly stept on the pavement: Mr ---- felt the
-severity of this remark, and instantly made off, leaving the spectators
-of the transaction almost convulsed with laughter.
-
-
-
-
-CANNY NEWCASSEL.
-
-
-_By_ T.T. _of Newcastle._
-
-  ’Bout Lunnun aw’d heard sec wonderful spokes,
-    That the streets were a’ cover’d wi’ guineas:
-  The houses se fine, sec grandees the folks,
-    Te them hus i’ th’ north were but ninnies.
-  But aw fand ma sel blonk’d when to Lunnun I gat,
-    The folks they a’ luck’d wishy washy;
-  For gould ye may howk ’till ye’re blind as a bat,
-    For their streets are like wors--brave and blashy!
-        ’Bout Lunnun then, div’nt ye mak sic a rout,
-          There’s nouse there ma winkers to dazzle,
-        For a’ the fine things ye are gobbin about,
-          We can marra iv canny Newcassel.
-
-  A Cockney chep show’d me the Thames’ druvy feace,
-    Whilk he said was the pride o’ the nation;
-  And thought at their shippin aw’d maek a haze gaze;
-    But aw whop’d ma foot on his noration.
-  Wi’ hus, mun, three hundred ships sail iv a tide,
-    We think nouse on’t, aw’ll maek accydavy:
-  Ye’re a gouck if ye din’t knaw that the lads o’ Tyne side,
-    Are the Jacks that maek famish wor navy.
-        ’Bout Lunnun, &c.
-
-  We went big St Paul’s and Westminster to see,
-    And aw warnt ye aw thought they luck’d pretty:
-  And then we’d a keek at the Monument te,
-    Whilk ma friend ca’d the pearl o’ the city.
-  Wey hinny, says aw, we’ve a Shot Tower se hee,
-    That biv it ye might scraffle to heaven;
-  And if on Saint Nicholas ye once cus’ an e’e,
-    Ye’d crack on’t as lang as ye’re livin.
-        ’Bout Lunnun, &c.
-
-  We trudg’d to St James’s, for there the king lives,
-    Aw warn’d ye a good stare we teuck on’t;
-  By my faicks its been built up by Adam’s aun neaves,
-  For it’s aud as the hills, by the leuk on’t:
-  Shem bin ye, says I, ye shou’d keep the king douse,
-    I speak it without ony malice:
-  Aw own that wor mayor rather wants a new house,
-    But then wor Infirmary’s a palace.
-        ’Bout Lunnun, &c.
-
-  Ah hinnies! out cum the king while we were there,
-    His leuks seem’d to say, Bairns be happy;
-  So down o’ my hunkers aw set up a blare,
-    For God to preserve him frae Nappy;
-  For Geordy aw’d die, for my loyalty’s trig,
-    And aw own he’s a geud leuken mannie;
-  But if wor Sir Matthew ye buss iv his wig,
-    By gocks, he wad just leuk as canny.
-        ’Bout Lunnun, &c.
-
-  Ah hinnies! about us the lasses did loup,
-    Thick as curns in a spice singin hinnie;
-  Some aud, and some hardly flig’d owr the doup,
-    But aw kend what they were by their whinnie:
-  A’, mannie, says aw, ye hev mony a tite girl,
-    But aw’m tell’d they’re oft het i’ their trappin:
-  Aw’d cuddle much rather a lass i’ the Sworl,
-    Than the dolls i’ the Strand, or i’ Wappin.
-        ’Bout Lunnun, &c.
-
-  Wiv a’ the stravaging aw wanted a munch,
-    An’ ma thropple was ready te gizen;
-  So we went tiv a yell house, and there teuk a lunch,
-    But the reck’ning, my saul! was a bizon:
-  Wiv hus i’ th’ North, when aw’m wairsh i’ my way,
-    (But te knaw wor warm hearts, ye yur sell come)
-  Aw lift the first latch, and baith man and dame say,
-    “Cruck your hough, canny man, for ye’re welcome.”
-        ’Bout Lunnun, &c.
-
-  A shillin aw thought at the Play-house aw’d ware,
-    But aw jump’d there wiv heuk-finger’d people;
-  My pockets gat rip’d, and aw heard ne mair,
-    Nor aw could frae Saint Nicholas’s steeple.
-  Dang Lunnan! wor Play-house aw like just as weel,
-    And wor play-folks aw’s shure are as funny:
-  A shillin’s worth sarves me to laugh till aw squeel,
-    Ne hallion there thrimmels ma money.
-        ’Bout Lunnun, &c.
-
-  The loss o’ the cotterels aw dinna regaird,
-    For aw’ve getten some white-heft o’ Lunnun;
-  Aw’ve learn’d to prefer my awn canny calf yaird;
-    If ye catch me mair fra’t, ye’ll be cunnun.
-  Aw knaw that the Cockneys crake rum-gum-shus chimes,
-    To maek gam of wor bur, and wor ’parel;
-  But honest Blind Willy shall string this iv rhymes,
-    And aw’ll sing’d for a Christmas Carol.
-        ’Bout Lunnun, &c.
-
-
-
-
-CROAKUM REDIVIVUS.
-
-
-_The Crow’s account of Newcastle, on her return to that Town in
-January, 1812._
-
-ADDRESSED TO A BROTHER CROW.
-
-  “Croney, its now near thirty year,
-    Since here I saw thy face;
-  And since that time, my honest bird,
-    What change _here’s_ taken place.
-  Gotham, in troth, is alter’d quite;
-    Here’s nought as ’twas before:
-  People nor town should I have known,
-    Had I not heard the BURR.”
-
-  Our steeple’s gone,[80] that lov’d abode,
-    Where once we loudly croak’d
-  Advice to Gotham’s aldermen;
-    And with the freemen jok’d.
-  Now Gotham, London fashions apes,
-    They’ve every thing to tempt ye;
-  Like the city--shops with showy fronts,
-    And insides poor and empty.
-
-  And then so alter’d is the town,
-    As well as Gotham’s people;
-  That not a building here’s the same,
-    Except Saint Nich’las steeple.
-  Fam’d steeple! Gotham’s greatest boast,
-    Long may you here remain,
-  Whilst other churches are pull’d down,
-    And built ’gain and again.
-
-  The streets are now so num’rous grown,[81]
-    E’en Gothamites don’t know them;
-  So signs they’ve painted ’gainst the walls,
-    In every nook to shew them.[82]
-  And such the rage, for naming streets,
-    That gaps made in th’ Old Wall;
-  They Heron Street and Forster Street,
-    Unwittingly do call.
-
-  Th’ old streets were next, not wide enough,
-    So th’ pants they took away,[83]
-  To place them in some corner dark,
-    Where th’ girls could wanton play.
-  Yet for themselves, they have such fears,
-    Their road, they ne’er can see;
-  So they want lamps, from th’ Barras Bridge,
-    E’en to Saint Peter’s Quay.[84]
-
-  The Crosses too, they’ve taken down,[85]
-    Tho’ built the other day;
-  They too, I fancy, did impede,
-    The great folks in their way.
-  And next their nostrils delicate,
-    Can’t bear the smell of meat;
-  And straight the Butcher’s shops and stalls,[86]
-    Fly quickly from the street.
-
-  Their foolish pride there’s nought can stop,
-    Improvement’s _all the go_;
-  Unseemly’s every thing that’s old,
-    So all that’s old’s laid low.
-  Each relique of their sires is gone,
-    Or got a modern face on:
-  The poor old Castle,[87]--Gotham’s pride,
-    A modern cap they place on.
-
-  The Bridge is widen’d,[88] the Quay enlarg’d,[89]
-    The old Moothall laid low;[90]
-  And other Court’s,[91] like all their works,
-    They’ve built here all for show.
-  Show, show’s the word in Gotham now,
-    And ev’ry thing that’s new;
-  From th’ Infirmary,[92] to th’ Children’s School,[93]
-    A palace is to view.
-
-  The Westgate boasts its palace now,[94]
-    On the Moor another’s seen;[95]
-
-  And (to please the nabobs of the east)
-    A Bridge has Pandon Dean:[96]
-  To see their Church, see they’ve pull’d down,
-    Many a good and bad house;[97]
-  There’s one thing more, howe’er, they want,
-    And that’s a spacious _Mad House_!
-
-  For, when these alterations end,
-    To tell I’ve not the pow’r;
-  E’en now their quarreling about,
-    Th’ improvement of the moor[98]
-  Yet like the Roman, who for want
-    Of worlds--from war refrain’d;
-  Gotham’s changes and improvements,
-    Will with th’ world’s limits end.
-
-[80] Exchange steeple taken down, and the Exchange new fronted, 1794.
-
-[81] Dean Street and Mosley Street formed 1789, Blackett Street, Albion
-Street and Albion Place, Collingwood Street, 1809-10, _Forth Street,
-Orchard Street, Castle Street, &c. &c. 1811-12_.
-
-[82] Names of the streets first painted against the walls of each end
-of the Streets, 1786.
-
-[83] The pants in Pilgrim Street removed, 1(Transcriber’s Note: the
-rest of the digits of the year are missing from the original printing.).
-
-[84] A new act proposed for lighting the suburbs, 1811-12.
-
-[85] Scale de Cross and White Cross taken down, 1807.
-
-[86] Butcher Market removed, 1807.
-
-[87] New battlements placed on the Castle, 1812.
-
-[88] Bridge widened.
-
-[89] The Quay enlarged opposite to the Exchange, 1811.
-
-[90] The Moot Hall pulled down, 1809.
-
-[91] New County Courts erected, 1811-12.
-
-[92] Infirmary enlarged, 1806.
-
-[93] Jubilee School built, 1810-11.
-
-[94] Carpenter’s Meeting House built at the Westgate, 1811-12.
-
-[95] Grand Stand built, 1800.
-
-[96] Bridge built over Pandon Dean, 1811-12.
-
-[97] Buildings in front of St Nicholas church pulled down, 1810-11.
-
-[98] The improvement of the Moor proposed, 1811-12.
-
-
-
-
-Some Years ago, while the band of musicians belonging to the Newcastle
-Armed Association were practising in one of the apartments of the
-Town’s Court, some person stole the Sheriff’s gown, which gave rise to
-the following verses:--
-
-
-  ’Tis said that in the good old times
-  One _Orpheus_ liv’d, a man of rhymes,
-      And famous on the lyre:
-  Whene’er the poet sung, the trees
-  Rush’d from the mountains to the seas,
-      Or jumpt into the fire.
-
-  But mark what wonders fill our land,
-  When late th’ _Association-band_
-      In this illustrious town,
-  (For more than ancient fame renown’d)
-  Display’d their magic pow’rs of sound,
-      Off mov’d--_the Sheriff’s gown_!!!
-
-
-
-
-THE ANTIGALLICAN PRIVATEER.
-
-
-  The Antigallican’s safe arriv’d,
-    On board of her with speed we’ll hie;
-  She’ll soon be fit to sail away;
-    To the Antigallican haste away.
-        Haste away, haste away,
-        To the Antigallican haste away.
-
-  For gold we’ll sail the ocean o’er,
-  From Britain’s isle to the French shore;
-  No ships from us shall run away;--
-  To the Antigallican haste away.
-        Haste away, &c.
-
-  The Spaniards too, those cunning knaves,
-  We’ll take their ships and make them slaves;
-  Till war’s declar’d we’ll never stay;
-  To the Antigallican haste away.
-        Haste away, &c.
-
-  If we should meet with a galloon,
-  Our own we’ll make her very soon;
-  Then drums shall beat and music play--
-  To the Antigallican haste away.
-        Haste away, &c.
-
-  Our country calls us all to arms,
-  To keep us safe from French alarms;
-  Then let us all her voice obey,
-  To the Antigallican haste away.
-        Haste away, &c.
-
-  When we are rich, then home we’ll steer,
-  And enter Shields with many a cheer;
-  To meet our friends so blythe and gay;
-  To the Antigallican haste away.
-        Haste away, &c.
-
-  To Charlotte’s Head then let’s repair,
-  We’ll be receiv’d with welcome there;
-  We’ll enter then without delay;
-  To the Antigallican haste away.
-        Haste away, &c.
-
-
-
-
-A NEW SONG, _On the Opening of Jarrow Colliery, 1803._
-
-
-  Of Temple and King, my friends, let us sing,
-    And of their Colliery at Jarrow;
-  Of coals that are good as e’er swam the flood,
-    For home consumption or far, O.
-
-  They tell us, my friend, there’s coal at Walls-End,
-    Can scarcely meet with a marrow;
-  But let them come here, we’ll make it appear,
-    Coals were not then wrought at Jarrow.
-
-  There is Heaton Main, and Walker by name,
-    Known to most near and far, O;
-  I this will maintain in language that’s plain,
-    There’s none that surpasseth Jarrow;
-
-  Above the Tyne Bridge, its often been said,
-    Few with these can compare, O;
-  A good dog was Brag--but hold fast, my lad--
-    Nothing they knew then of Jarrow!
-
-  To Temple and King, great wealth may they bring,
-    From home consumption, or far, O;
-  May success attend, wherever they send
-    Their coals, the produce of Jarrow.
-
-  May overmen all, with great and the small,
-    Ne’er have occasion to sorrow!
-  May heart, hand, and head, procure them bread,
-    For wives and children at Jarrow!
-
-  Call another bowl to enliven our soul,
-    Temple we’ll drink and his marrow;
-  Three cheers we will give, cry, Long may they live!
-    The prosp’rous owners of Jarrow.
-        Call another bowl, &c.
-
-_East Rainton._
-
-L----
-
-
-
-
-THE PEACOCK AND THE HEN.
-
-
-  All the night over and over,
-    And all the night over again--
-  All the night over and over,
-    The peacock follows the hen.
-
-  A hen’s a hungry dish,
-    A goose is hollow within;
-  There’s no deceit in a pudding;
-    A pye’s a dainty thing.
-
-
-
-
-THE TYNE, _A FRAGMENT_.
-
-BY J.L.
-
-
-  O lovely Tyne, thy beauty’s seen,
-    Meand’ring sweet thy lucid stream--
-  Thy banks are woody, fertile, green,
-    Enliven’d by the solar beam.
-
-  Thy sons are healthy, blooming, strong,
-    Thy daughters lovely as the spring;
-  They joyful trip the meads along,
-    Such joys doth sweet industry bring.
-
-  Adieu, sweet Tyne--a long adieu,
-    I now must leave thee far behind;
-  Yet tho’ secluded from my view,
-    Thoul’t dwell for ever in my mind.
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS.
-
-
-                                                                  _Page_
-    As I cam thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate          5
-
-    Whe’s like my Johnny                                          _ib._
-
-    My bonny keel laddie, my canny keel laddie                       7
-
-    ’Twas between Hebbron and Jarrow                                 8
-
-    Where hast’te been, ma’ canny hinny                              9
-
-    Fresh I’m cum fra Sandgate Street                               10
-
-    Roll on thy way, thrice happy Tyne                              11
-
-    Near Blackett’s Field, sad hov’ring                             12
-
-    Like wolves of the forest, ferocious and keen                   14
-
-    When unprovok’d, when foreign foes                              15
-
-    John Diggons be I, from a Country Town                          16
-
-    In a battle, you know, we Britons are strong                    18
-
-    Turks, Infidels, Pagans, Jews, Christians and Tartars           19
-
-    When Fame brought the news of Great Britain’s success           21
-
-    The jailor, for trial, had brought up a thief                   23
-
-    Ho’way and aw’ll sing thee a tune, mun                          25
-
-    Odd smash! ’tis hard aw can’t rub dust off                      27
-
-    Come marrows, we’ve happen’d to meet now                        29
-
-    Fareweel, fareweel, ma comely pet                               31
-
-    Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ the welkin rebellows        33
-
-    Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ our island rebellows        34
-
-    As me and my marrow was ganning to wark                         35
-
-    If I had another penny                                          36
-
-    The bonny pit laddie, the cannie pit laddie                   _ib._
-
-    Hae ye heard o’ these wond’rous dons                            37
-
-    The Baff week is o’er--no repining--                            38
-
-    On each market day, Sir, the folks on the Quay, Sir             43
-
-    Lads! myek a ring                                               45
-
-    I was a young maiden truly                                      48
-
-    My muse took flight the other day                               49
-
-    When war’s destructive rage did cease                           53
-
-    Rough roll’d the roaring river’s stream                         56
-
-    Attend to my summons, ye _British_ Electors                     57
-
-    To sing some nymph in her cot                                   58
-
-    When cooling zephyrs wanton play                                59
-
-    Whilst bards, in strains that sweetly flow                      60
-
-    Oh! where, and oh where does your bonny lassie dwell            61
-
-    Should the French in Newcastle but dare to appear               62
-
-    Talk no more of brave Nelson, or gallant Sir Sidney             63
-
-    On Rhenish, Medeira, Port, Cleret and Sherry                    66
-
-    Ye sons of Parnassus, whose brains are inspir’d                 67
-
-    Who’s he that with great Mercury strides                        68
-
-    Allons, sweet childs, of smooth complexion                      70
-
-    Great was the consternation, amazement and dismay, Sir          73
-
-    The young brood fairly fledg’d, we may fairly suppose           77
-
-    As Neddy and Betty were walking along                           79
-
-    Now fill a bumper to the brim                                   81
-
-    I’m lonesome since I left Blyth camps                           84
-
-    We march’d from the camps with our hearts full of woe           85
-
-    Come fill a bumper to the brim                                  86
-
-    Come cheer up my hearts, my brave sons of the Tyne              87
-
-    What pleasure oft ’tis to reveal                                88
-
-    Ha’ ye been at Newcastle fair                                   89
-
-    Tho lofty bards sublimer sing                                   91
-
-    When Royal Ge--e on new year’s day                              94
-
-    Sir James Duncan and Co their kind compliments send             97
-
-    Liddell, farewell! to all true Britons dear                     99
-
-    In hollow murmurs o’er the bending reeds                       100
-
-    Of a’ the many bonny corps                                     101
-
-    Come, haste to Newcastle, ye sons of fair freedom              102
-
-    The plaint of a mourner, deep sorrow oppres’d with             103
-
-    Hey, Jacky, ma honey, hae ye seen the new money                105
-
-    Fra Benton Bank, to Benton town                                106
-
-    Yt fell abowght the Lamasse tyde                               107
-
-    The Perssye came byfore hys oste                               111
-
-    It fell and about the Lammas time                              116
-
-    The Persé owt off Northomberlonde                              118
-
-    The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent                       122
-
-    God prosper long our noble king                                128
-
-    I have heard of a lilting, at our ewe’s milking                136
-
-    From Spey to the border                                        137
-
-    ’Twas he that rul’d his Country’s heart                        142
-
-    On July seventh, the suthe to say                              143
-
-    When we were silly sisters seven, sisters we were so fair      147
-
-    There’s Roadley’s ‘cloud capt’ lofty hill                      150
-
-    Sir Swinton was a doughty knight                               152
-
-    The king is gone from Bambrough Castle                         156
-
-    On Bamboroughshire’s rocky shore                               161
-
-    The kye are come hame                                         _ib._
-
-    Come you lusty Northerne lads                                  162
-
-    Here lies the corpse of William Bell                           166
-
-    Wold you please to hear of a sang of dule                     _ib._
-
-    Old Janus advances all cloathed in white                       171
-
-    The routing the earl of Mar’s forces                           175
-
-    Of all the Kirkharle bonny lasses                              180
-
-    Good people, give ear to the fatalest duel                     184
-
-    Ye muses nine, if ye think fit                                 185
-
-    Good Master Moody                                              188
-
-    The little priest of Felton                                    189
-
-    There lives a lass in Felton town                              190
-
-    In second part I will declare                                  192
-
-    He’s gone! he’s gone                                           195
-
-    On Saturday                                                    196
-
-    God prosper long our noble king                                197
-
-    Callaly Castle stands on a height                              199
-
-    In Bedlington, there liv’d a fair                              200
-
-    The lady sat in leafy bow’r                                    202
-
-    Nought but some dæmon’s baleful step                           206
-
-    Hoot awa’, lads hoot awa’                                      209
-
-    Ihon Redle that som tim did be                                 210
-
-    Howl on ye winds, and beat ye rains                            211
-
-    Oh, have you seen the blushing rose                           _ib._
-
-    The day was quite pleasant, the Fourteenth of May              212
-
-    A bonny swain blithe Sandy nam’d                               214
-
-    In Britain’s blest insland there runs a fine river             215
-
-    Now the feather’d train in each bush                           216
-
-    Apollo, your aid I request                                     217
-
-    Ye sacred nine descend                                         218
-
-    Unsullied mirth attend this feast                              219
-
-    To fertile soil and fragrant air                               220
-
-    O bonny Hobby Elliott                                          221
-
-    Little wat ye wha’s coming                                     222
-
-    Mackintosh was a soldier brave                                 223
-
-    The king has written a broad letter                            225
-
-    How mournful feeble Nature’s tone                             _ib._
-
-    In former times where Hexham town doth stand                   227
-
-    Britannia scarce had planted the olive on our isle             228
-
-    Doctor Moff once more employs the burden of my song            229
-
-    The first of March, from Cockle Park                           231
-
-    Next day to the Thatchmeadows I                                233
-
-    Good fortune still attends the brave                           234
-
-    A fair reformation would render this nation                    236
-
-    The ploughman he comes home at night                           237
-
-    Sweet thro’ the forest, Coquet flows                          _ib._
-
-    At Christmas when the wind blew cauld                          238
-
-    It happen’d at good Christmas tide                             239
-
-    About the bush Willy                                           240
-
-    I cannot get to my love if I should dee                        241
-
-    As I went to Newcastle                                        _ib._
-
-    I went to Black Heddon                                         242
-
-    John Thompson, just now                                       _ib._
-
-    Of a Pitman we’ll sing                                        _ib._
-
-    Since Winter’s keen blast must to Zephyr give place            243
-
-    All lovers of lucre may LAUD the _Lord Mayor_                  245
-
-    Northumberland lads are handsome squads                        247
-
-    A farmer near Felton, fam’d for vulgar fractions               248
-
-    All men of high and low degree                                 250
-
-    On travelling down Tweed-side                                  251
-
-    Young Solomon, tir’d of a batchelors life                      252
-
-    Ah! pen, ink, and paper, proves pleasing                       253
-
-    There was five wives at Acomb                                  256
-
-    Now little Billy is gone to the kirk                           257
-
-    I was young and lusty                                         _ib._
-
-    Come, gentlemen attend to my ditty                             258
-
-    I’ll tell you a story, if you please to attend                 261
-
-    On the banks of the Tees, at Stockton of old                   262
-
-    Come, brave spirits, that love Canary                          264
-
-    Upon the stately river Tees                                    265
-
-    Ye Stockton lads and lasses too                                267
-
-    Ye freeholders of Stockton town                                269
-
-    Young men and maidens all, I pray you now attend               271
-
-    Militia boys for my theme I now chuse                          274
-
-    ’Twas on a summer’s evening                                    275
-
-    Rookhope stands in a pleasant place                            276
-
-    Come all the gallant brave wenches                             281
-
-    Bobby Shaftoe’s gone to sea                                    283
-
-    In the fine town of Sunderland which stands on a hill         _ib._
-
-    You Sunderland lasses draw near                                284
-
-    Ye sons of Sunderland, with shouts that rival ocean’s roar      285
-
-    Elsie Marley is grown so fine                                 _ib._
-
-    Thro’ Durham County fam’d of old                               287
-
-    Come all ye lads who wish to shine                             288
-
-    And are ye sure the tale is true                              _ib._
-
-    When Britannia her sons calls to aid her in arms               290
-
-    Durham’s old city thus salutes her king                        291
-
-    As aw was gannin to Durham                                     292
-
-    While visiting this dark abode                                _ib._
-
-    Lov’d stream, that meanders along                              293
-
-    Its hey for the buff and the blue                              294
-
-    At home wad I be                                               296
-
-    Its o but I ken well                                          _ib._
-
-    Up the raw, ma bonny hinny                                     297
-
-    If you want a busom                                            298
-
-    Up the Butcher bank                                            299
-
-    Saw ye owt o’ ma’ lad                                          300
-
-    Brandling for ever, and Ridley for aye                        _ib._
-
-    My laddie sits owre late up                                    301
-
-    They’ve prest my dear Johnny                                  _ib._
-
-    Neighbours I’m come for to tell ye, our skipper and Moll’s
-        to be wed                                                  302
-
-    Old _Jarrow_, long fam’d for monastical lore                   304
-
-    The sailors are all at the bar                                 306
-
-    We’ll all away to the Lowlights                               _ib._
-
-    Six centeries since, some say, a son of South Seaton           307
-
-    God prosper long our _warlike_ king                            309
-
-    There is not in the world’s terraqueous round                  310
-
-    Whence those _cries_, my soul that harrow                      312
-
-    ’Bout Lunnun aw’d heard sec wonderful spokes                   314
-
-    Croney its now near thirty year                                316
-
-    ’Tis said that in the good old times                           319
-
-    The Antigallican’s safe arriv’d                                320
-
-    Of Temple and King, my friends, let us sing                    321
-
-    All the night over and over                                    322
-
-    O lovely Tyne, thy beauty’s seen                              _ib._
-
-[Illustration: _Finis_]
-
-FROM THE PRESS OF M. ANGUS AND SON, NEWCASTLE.
-
-
-
-
-INDEX.
-
-
-    A
-
-                                                                 _Page_
-
-    As I cam thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate          5
-
-    As me and my marrow was ganning to wark                         35
-
-    Attend to my summons, ye _British_ Electors                     57
-
-    Allons, sweet childs, of smooth complexion                      70
-
-    At Neddy and Betty were walking along                           79
-
-    A bonny swain, blithe Sandy nam’d                              214
-
-    Apollo, your aid I request                                     217
-
-    A fair reformation would render this nation                    236
-
-    At Christmas when the wind blew cauld                          238
-
-    About the bush Willy                                           240
-
-    As I went to Newcastle                                         241
-
-    All lovers of lucre may LAUD the _Lord Mayor_                  245
-
-    A farmer near Felton, fam’d for vulgar fractions               248
-
-    All men of high and low degree                                 250
-
-    Ah! pen, ink, and paper, proves pleasing                       253
-
-    And are ye sure the tale is true                               288
-
-    As aw was gannin to Durham                                     292
-
-    At home wad I be                                               296
-
-    All the night over and over                                    322
-
-
-    B
-
-    Britannia scarce had planted the olive on our isle             228
-
-    Bobby Shaftoe’s gone to sea                                    283
-
-    Brandling for ever, and Ridley for aye                         300
-
-    ’Bout Lunaun aw’d heard sec wonderful spokes                   314
-
-
-    C
-
-    Come marrows, we’ve happen’d to meet now                        29
-
-    Come fill a bumper to the brim                                  86
-
-    Come cheer up my hearts, my brave sons of the Tyne              87
-
-    Come, haste to Newcastle, ye sons of fair freedom              102
-
-    Come you lusty Northerne lads                                  162
-
-    Callaly Castle stands on a height                              199
-
-    Come, gentlemen attend to my ditty                             258
-
-    Come, brave spirits, that love Canary                          264
-
-    Come all the gallant brave wenches                             281
-
-    Come all ye lads who wish to shine                             288
-
-    Croney its now near thirty year                                316
-
-
-    D
-
-    Doctor Moff once more employs the burden of my song            229
-
-    Durham’s old city thus salutes her king                        291
-
-
-    E
-
-    Elsie Marley is grown so fine                                  285
-
-
-    F
-
-    Fresh I’m cum fra Sandgate Street                               10
-
-    Fareweel, fareweel, ma comely pet                               31
-
-    Fra Beaton Bank, to Benton town                                106
-
-    From Spey to the border                                        137
-
-
-    G
-
-    Great was the consternation, amazement and dismay, Sir          73
-
-    God prosper long our noble king                                128
-
-    Good people, give ear to the fatalest duel                     184
-
-    Good Master Moody                                              188
-
-    God prosper long our noble king                                197
-
-    Good fortune still attends the brave                           234
-
-    God prosper long our _warlike_ king                            309
-
-
-    H
-
-    Ho’way and aw’ll sing thee a tune, man                          25
-
-    Hae ye heard o’ these wondr’ous dons                            37
-
-    Ha’ ye been at Newcastle fair                                   89
-
-    Hey, Jacky, ma honey, hae ye seen the new money                105
-
-    Here lies the corpse of William Bell                           166
-
-    He’s gone! he’s gone                                           195
-
-    Hoot awa’, lads hoot awa’                                      209
-
-    Howl on ye winds, and beat ye rains                            211
-
-    How mournful feeble Nature’s tone                              225
-
-
-    I
-
-    In a battle, you know, we Britons are strong                    18
-
-    If I had another penny                                          36
-
-    I was a young maiden truly                                      48
-
-    I’m lonesome since I left Blyth camps                           84
-
-    In hollow murmurs o’er the bending reeds                       100
-
-    It fell and about the Lammas time                              116
-
-    I have heard of a lilting, at our ewe’s milking                136
-
-    In second part I will declare                                  192
-
-    In Bedlington, there liv’d a fair                              200
-
-    Ihon Redle that som tim did be                                 210
-
-    In Britain’s blest insland there runs a fine river             215
-
-    In former times where Hexham town doth stand                   227
-
-    It happen’d at good Christmas tide                             239
-
-    I cannot get to my love if I should dee                        241
-
-    I went to Black Heddon                                         242
-
-    I was young and lusty                                          257
-
-    I’ll tell you a story, if you please to attend                 261
-
-    In the fine town of Sunderland which stands on a hill          283
-
-    Its hey for the buff and the blue                              294
-
-    Its O but I ken well                                           296
-
-    If you want a busom                                            298
-
-
-    J
-
-    John Diggons be I, from a Country Town                          16
-
-    John Thompson, just now                                        242
-
-
-    L
-
-    Like wolves of the forest, ferocious and keen                   14
-
-    Lads! myek a ring                                               45
-
-    Liddell, farewell! to all true Britons dear                     99
-
-    Little wat ye wha’s coming                                     222
-
-    Lov’d stream, that meanders along                              293
-
-
-    M
-
-    My bonny keel laddie, my canny keel laddie                       7
-
-    My muse took flight the other day                               49
-
-    Mackintosh was a soldier brave                                 223
-
-    Militia boys for my theme I now chuse                          274
-
-    My laddie sits owre late up                                    301
-
-
-    N
-
-    Near Blackett’s Field, sad hov’ring                             12
-
-    Now fill a bumper to the brim                                   81
-
-    Nought but some demon’s baleful step                           206
-
-    Now the feather’d train in each bush                           216
-
-    Next day to the Thatchmeadows I                                233
-
-    Northumberland lads are handsome squads                        247
-
-    Now little Billy is gone to the kirk                           257
-
-    Neighbours I’m come for to tell ye, our skipper and Moll’s
-        to be wed                                                  302
-
-
-    O
-
-    Odd smash! ’tis hard aw can’t rub dust off                      27
-
-    On each market day, Sir, the folks on the Quay, Sir             43
-
-    Oh! where, and oh where does your bonny lassie dwell            61
-
-    On Rhenish, Medeira, Port, Cleret and Sherry                    66
-
-    Of a’ the many bonny corps                                     101
-
-    On July seventh, the suthe to say                              143
-
-    On Saturday                                                    196
-
-    O bonny Hobby Elliott                                          221
-
-    On Bamboroughshire’s rocky shore                               161
-
-    Old Janus advances all cloathed in white                       171
-
-    Of all the Kirkharle bonny lasses                              180
-
-    Oh, have you seen the blushing rose                            211
-
-    Of a Pitman we’ll sing                                         242
-
-    On travelling down Tweed-side                                  251
-
-    On the banks of the Tees, at Stockton of old                   262
-
-    Old _Jarrow_, long fam’d for monastical lore                   304
-
-    Of Temple and King, my friends, let us sing                    321
-
-    O lovely Tyne, thy beauty’s seen                               322
-
-
-    R
-
-    Roll on thy way, thrice happy Tyne                              11
-
-    Rough roll’d the roaring river’s stream                         56
-
-    Rookhope stands in a pleasant place                            276
-
-
-    S
-
-    Should the French in Newcastle but dare to appear               62
-
-    Sir James Duncan and Co. their kind compliments send            97
-
-    Sir Swinton was a doughty knight                               152
-
-    Sweet thro’ the forest, Coquet flows                           237
-
-    Since Winter’s keen blast must to Zephyr give place            243
-
-    Saw ye owt o’ ma’ lad                                          300
-
-    Six centeries since, some say, a son of South Seaton           307
-
-
-    T
-
-    ’Twas between Hebbron and Jarrow                                 8
-
-    Turks, Infidels, Pagans, Jews, Christians and Tartars           19
-
-    The jailor, for trial, had brought up a thief                   23
-
-    The bonny pit laddie, the cannie pit laddie                     36
-
-    The Baff week is o’er--no repining--                            38
-
-    To sing some nymph in her cot                                   58
-
-    Talk no more of brave Nelson, or gallant Sir Sidney             68
-
-    The young brood fairly fledg’d, we may fairly suppose           77
-
-    Tho’ lofty bards sublimer sing                                  91
-
-    The plaint of a mourner, deep sorrow oppres’d with             103
-
-    The Perssye came byfore hys oste                               111
-
-    The Persé owt off Northomberlonde                              118
-
-    The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent                       122
-
-    ’Twas he that rul’d his Country’s heart                        142
-
-    There’s Roadley’s ‘cloud capt’ lofty hill                      150
-
-    The king is gone from Bambrough Castle                         156
-
-    The kye are come hame                                          161
-
-    The routing the earl of Mar’s forces                           175
-
-    The little priest of Felton                                    189
-
-    There lives a lass in Felton town                              190
-
-    The lady sat in leafy bow’r                                    202
-
-    The day was quite pleasant, the Fourteenth of May              212
-
-    To fertile soil and fragrant air                               220
-
-    The king has written a broad letter                            225
-
-    The first of March, from Cockle Park                           231
-
-    The ploughman he comes home at night                           237
-
-    There was five wives at Acomb                                  256
-
-    ’Twas on a summer’s evening                                    275
-
-    Thro’ Durham County fam’d of old                               287
-
-    They’ve prest my dear Johnny                                   301
-
-    The sailors are all at the bar                                 306
-
-    There is not in the world’s terraqueous round                  310
-
-    ’Tis said that in the good old times                           319
-
-    The Antigallican’s safe arriv’d                                320
-
-
-    U
-
-    Unsullied mirth attend this feast                              219
-
-    Upon the stately river Tees                                    265
-
-    Up the raw, ma bonny hinny                                     297
-
-    Up the Butcher bank                                            299
-
-
-    W
-
-    Whe’s like my Johnny                                             5
-
-    Where hast’te been, ma’ canny hinny                              9
-
-    When unprovok’d, when foreign foes                              15
-
-    When Fame brought the news of Great Britain’s success           21
-
-    Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ the welkin rebellows        33
-
-    Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ our island rebellows        34
-
-    When war’s destructive rage did cease                           53
-
-    When cooling zephyrs wanton play                                59
-
-    Whilst bards, in strains that sweetly flow                      60
-
-    Who’s he that with great Mercury strides                        68
-
-    We march’d from the camps with our hearts full of woe           85
-
-    What pleasure oft ’tis to reveal                                88
-
-    When Royal Ge--e on new year’s day                              94
-
-    When we were silly sisters seven, sisters we were so fair      147
-
-    Wold you please to hear of a sang of dule                      166
-
-    When Britannia her sons calls to aid her in arms               290
-
-    While visiting this dark abode                                 292
-
-    We’ll all away to the Lowlights                                306
-
-    Whence those _cries_, my soul that harrow                      312
-
-
-    Y
-
-    Ye sons of Parnassus, whose brains are inspir’d                 67
-
-    Yt fell abowght the Lamasse tyde                               107
-
-    Ye muses nine, if ye think fit                                 185
-
-    Ye sacred nine descend                                         218
-
-    Young Solomon, tir’d of a batchelors life                      252
-
-    Ye Stockton lads and lasses too                                267
-
-    Ye freeholders of Stockton town                                269
-
-    Young men and maidens all, I pray you now attend               271
-
-    You Sunderland lasses draw near                                284
-
-    Ye sons of Sunderland, with shouts that rival ocean’s roar     285
-
-[Illustration: _Finis_]
-
-FROM THE PRESS OF M. ANGUS AND SON, NEWCASTLE.
-
-
-
-
-
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rhymes of Northern Bards, by Various
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Rhymes of Northern Bards
-       Being a Curious Collection of Old and New Songs and Poems,
-              Peculiar to the Counties of Newcastle upon Tyne,
-              Northumberland, and Durham
-
-Author: Various
-
-Editor: John Bell
-
-Release Date: September 28, 2016 [EBook #53156]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RHYMES OF NORTHERN BARDS ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Jonathan Ingram and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-
-<div class="transnote">
-
-<p>Transcriber’s Note: Period and dialect spelling, inconsistent
-hyphenation, etc. are preserved as printed.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
-
-<h1>RHYMES<br />
-OF<br />
-<i>Northern Bards</i>:</h1>
-
-<p class="titlepage">BEING A CURIOUS<br />
-COLLECTION<br />
-OF OLD AND NEW<br />
-<i>SONGS AND POEMS</i>,</p>
-
-<p class="titlepage">Peculiar to the Counties of<br />
-<i>NEWCASTLE UPON TYNE,<br />
-NORTHUMBERLAND, AND DURHAM</i>.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter titlepage" style="width: 200px;">
-<img src="images/line5.jpg" width="200" height="25" alt="(decorative line)" />
-</div>
-
-<p class="center">EDITED BY JOHN BELL, JUN.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
-<img src="images/line2.jpg" width="200" height="25" alt="(decorative line)" />
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter titlepage" style="width: 250px;">
-<img src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="250" height="150" alt="Crest" />
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“NORTHUMBRIA’S SONS STAND FORTH, BY ALL CONFEST,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">THE FIRST AND FIRMEST OF FAIR FREEDOM’S TRAIN;</div>
-<div class="verse">EACH BRAVE NORTHUMBRIAN NURSES IN HIS BREAST</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">THE SACRED SPARK, UNSULLIED BY A STAIN.”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter titlepage" style="width: 200px;">
-<img src="images/line5.jpg" width="200" height="25" alt="(decorative line)" />
-</div>
-
-<p class="center">Newcastle upon Tyne:<br />
-Printed for John Bell, by M. Angus &amp; Son, and sold by them,<br />
-and other Booksellers in Town.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter titlepage" style="width: 200px;">
-<img src="images/line5.jpg" width="200" height="25" alt="(decorative line)" />
-</div>
-
-<p class="center">MDCCCXII.</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>LINES<br />
-<i>SENT TO THE EDITOR AND PRINTER</i>.</h2>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
-<img src="images/line1.jpg" width="200" height="25" alt="(decorative line)" />
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Proceed, ye generous friends of Tyne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And prosperous be your way;</div>
-<div class="verse">How happy, would our sons incline</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To catch the improving ray!</div>
-<div class="verse">With heart and hand your friendship join,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Bring Taste and Genius forth;</div>
-<div class="verse">That all may own Newcastle Town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Emporium of the North.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>PREFACE.</h2>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
-<img src="images/line2.jpg" width="200" height="25" alt="(decorative line)" />
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse"><i>Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,</i></div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Thinks what ne’er was, nor is, nor e’er shall be.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse right"><span class="smcap">Pope</span>.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
-<img src="images/line3.jpg" width="200" height="25" alt="(decorative line)" />
-</div>
-
-<p>“Give me the writing of all the Ballads, for the
-people of England, and let who will be their law-giver,”
-was said by a celebrated orator, in speaking on the manners
-of the people:&mdash;this cheering ray, in behalf of ballad writing,
-gave rise to the publication of the following pages: for how
-many of these simple, yet popular effusions, have been lost
-for want of a repository to give them a chance of living a
-day beyond the time they were written?&mdash;As such, the
-<i>Summum Bonum</i> of my labours is to rescue from the yawning
-jaws of oblivion the productions of the Bards of the Tyne;
-and by so doing, hand them down to future ages as Reliques
-of Provincial Poetry:&mdash;But, conscious of the liability of
-personal allusions in the generality of provincial poems, the
-words of the poet have been kept in mind:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Curs’d be the verse, how well soe’er it flow,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which tends to make one <i>worthy</i> man my foe!”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Those who may have expected a matchless collection, and
-find it inferior to other poetical selections, will please to think
-of the following Italian proverb:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p class="center">“CHI LAVA LA TESTA AL ASINO PERDE IL SAPONE.”</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">and accept the same from their</p>
-
-<p class="center">Obedient Servant,</p>
-
-<p class="right">THE EDITOR.</p>
-
-<p><i>Newcastle upon Tyne,
-August, 1812.</i></p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>VERSES<br />
-ON<br />
-<i>NORTHUMBERLAND MINSTRELSY.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY H.R.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With taste so true, and genius fine,</div>
-<div class="verse">The blythsome <span class="smcap">Minsterels</span> of langsyne,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sung sweetly ’tween the Tweed and Tyne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Of war and love;</div>
-<div class="verse">Sounding their melody divine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Thro’ ev’ry grove.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Northumbria’s waters, woods, and plains,</div>
-<div class="verse">Her hills and dales, her nymphs and swains,</div>
-<div class="verse">Her rural sports, in sweetest strains,</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">The Poets sung;</div>
-<div class="verse">Till echo, thro’ her wide domains,</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Responsive rung.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In witty songs and verses <i>kittle</i><a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who could compare with <span class="smcap">Thomas Whittle</span>?</div>
-<div class="verse">The Cambo blade, who to a tittle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Describ’d each feature;</div>
-<div class="verse">At <i>painting</i>, too, he varied little</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">From mother Nature.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Her <span class="smcap">Pipers</span> also knew the art</div>
-<div class="verse">To touch the soul, and warm the heart;</div>
-<div class="verse">Such chearing strains they could impart,</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">That cank’ring care,</div>
-<div class="verse">From ev’ry breast away would start,</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">To pine elsewhere.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When at the harvest, every year,</div>
-<div class="verse">They play’d, the reapers’ hearts to chear;</div>
-<div class="verse">The soft-link’d notes, so sweet and clear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Made labour light;</div>
-<div class="verse">And many a merry jig, I swear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">They danc’d each night.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Lively.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
-<img src="images/header-crest.jpg" width="300" height="220" alt="Crest" />
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse"><i>Old Tyne shall listen to my Tale,</i></div>
-<div class="verse"><i>And Echo, down the bordering Vale,</i></div>
-<div class="verse"><i>The Liquid Melody prolong.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse right"><span class="smcap">Akenside</span>.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
-<img src="images/line4.jpg" width="200" height="25" alt="(decorative line)" />
-</div>
-
-<h2>SONGS.</h2>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
-<img src="images/line4.jpg" width="200" height="25" alt="(decorative line)" />
-</div>
-
-<h2>WEEL MAY THE KEEL ROW.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">As I cam thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As I cam thro’ Sandgate, I heard a lassie sing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Weel may the keel row, the keel row, the keel row,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Weel may the keel row, that my laddie’s in.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He wears a blue bonnet, blue bonnet, blue bonnet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He wears a blue bonnet, a dimple in his chin:</div>
-<div class="verse">And weel may the keel row, the keel row, the keel row,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And weel may the keel row, that my laddie’s in.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE NEW KEEL ROW.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By</i> T.T.&mdash;<i>To the old Tune.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Whe’s like my Johnny,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sae leish, sae blithe, sae bonny,</div>
-<div class="verse">He’s foremost ’mang the mony</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Keel lads o’ Coaly Tyne;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He’ll set or row so tightly,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or in the dance so sprightly,</div>
-<div class="verse">He’ll cut and shuffle sightly,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">’Tis true&mdash;were he not mine.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent5">Weel may the keel row,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">The keel row, the keel row,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Weel may the keel row,</div>
-<div class="verse indent7">That my laddie’s in:</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">He wears a blue bonnet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A bonnet, a bonnet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">He wears a blue bonnet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent7">A dimple in his chin.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He’s ne mair learning,</div>
-<div class="verse">Than tells his weekly earning,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet reet frae wrang discerning,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Tho’ brave, ne bruiser he;</div>
-<div class="verse">Tho’ he no worth a plack is,</div>
-<div class="verse">His awn coat on his back is,</div>
-<div class="verse">And nane can say that black is</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">The white o’ Johnny’s ee.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Each pay-day nearly,</div>
-<div class="verse">He takes his quairt right dearly,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then talks O, latin O,&mdash;cheerly,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Or mavies jaws away;</div>
-<div class="verse">How caring not a feather,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nelson and he together,</div>
-<div class="verse">The springy French did lether,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And gar’d them shab away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Were a’ kings comparely,</div>
-<div class="verse">In each I’d spy a fairly,</div>
-<div class="verse">An’ ay wad Johnny barly,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">He gets sic bonny bairns;</div>
-<div class="verse">Go bon, the queen, or misses,</div>
-<div class="verse">But wad for Johnny’s kisses,</div>
-<div class="verse">Luik upon as blisses,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Scrimp meals, caff beds, and dairns.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Wour lads, like their deddy,</div>
-<div class="verse">To fight the French are ready,</div>
-<div class="verse">But gie’s a peace that’s steady,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And breed cheap as lang syne;</div>
-<div class="verse">May a’ the press gangs perish,</div>
-<div class="verse">Each lass her laddy cherish:</div>
-<div class="verse">Lang may the Coal Trade flourish</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Upon the dingy Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Breet Star o’ Heaton,</div>
-<div class="verse">Your ay wour darling sweet’en,</div>
-<div class="verse">May heaven’s blessings leet on</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Your leady, bairns, and ye;</div>
-<div class="verse">God bless the King and Nation,</div>
-<div class="verse">Each bravely fill his station,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our canny <i>Corporation</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Lang may they sing wi’ me,</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent5">Weel may the keel row, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>BONNY KEEL LADDIE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">My bonny keel laddie, my canny keel laddie,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My bonny keel laddie for me O!</div>
-<div class="verse">He sits in his keel as black as the deil,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And he brings the white money to me O.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ha’ye seen owt o’ my canny man,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ are ye shure he’s weel O?</div>
-<div class="verse">He’s geane o’er land wiv a stick in his hand,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">T’ help to moor the keel O.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The canny keel laddie, the bonny keel laddie,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The canny keel laddie for me O;</div>
-<div class="verse">He sits in his huddock, and claws his bare buttock,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And brings the white money to me O.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE LITTLE P.D.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">’Twas between Hebbron and Jarrow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">There cam on a very strang gale,</div>
-<div class="verse">The skipper look’d out o’ th’ huddock,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Crying, “Smash, man, lower th’ sail!</div>
-<div class="verse">Smash, man, lower the sail,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or else to the bottom we’ll go:”</div>
-<div class="verse">The keel and a’ hands wad been lost,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Had it not been for Jemmy Munro.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The gale blew stranger an’ stranger,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When they cam beside the Muck House,</div>
-<div class="verse">The skipper cry’d out&mdash;“Jemmy Swinger,”</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But still was as fear’d as a mouse;</div>
-<div class="verse">P.D. ran to clear th’ anchor,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“It’s raffl’d!” right loudly he roar’d,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">They a’ said the gale wad sink her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">If it was’nt seun thrawn owrboard.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The laddy ran sweaten, ran sweaten,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The laddy ran sweaten about;</div>
-<div class="verse">Till the keel went bump ’gainst Jarrow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And three o’ th’ bullies lap out;</div>
-<div class="verse">Three o’ th’ bullies lap out,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And left nyen in but little P.D.</div>
-<div class="verse">Who ran about stamping and crying&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“How! smash, Skipper, what mun a’ dee?”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They all shouted out fra the kee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Steer her close in by th’ shore;</div>
-<div class="verse">And then thraw th’ painter to me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thou cat feac’d son of a wh&mdash;e.</div>
-<div class="verse">The lad threw the painter ashore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They fasten’d her up to th’ kee,</div>
-<div class="verse">But whe knaws how far she meit gane,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Had it not been for little P.D.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then into th’ huddock they gat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And th’ flesh they began to fry,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">They talk’d o’ the gale as they sat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And how a’ hands were lost&mdash;very nigh.</div>
-<div class="verse">The skipper roar’d out for a drink,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">P.D. ran to bring him the cann,</div>
-<div class="verse">But odsmash! mun! what d’ye think?&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He coup’d a’ the flesh out o’ the pan!</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>MA’ CANNY HINNY.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Where hast’te been, ma’ canny hinny?</div>
-<div class="verse">An where hast’te been, ma’ bonny bairn?</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw was up and down seekin ma’ hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw was thro’ the town seekin for my bairn;</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw went up the Butcher Bank and down Grundin Chare,</div>
-<div class="verse">Call’d at the Dun Cow, but aw cuddent find thee there.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent2">Where hast’te been, ma’ canny hinny?</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">An where hast’te been, ma’ bonny bairn, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then aw went t’ th’ Cassel Garth, and caw’d on Johnny Fife.</div>
-<div class="verse">The beer drawer tell’d me she ne’er saw thee in her life.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">Where hast’te been, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then aw went into the three bulls heads, and down the Lang Stairs,</div>
-<div class="verse">And a’ the way alang the Close, as far as Mr Mayor’s.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">Where hast’te been, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Fra there aw went alang the brig, an up t’ Jackson’s Chare,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then back again t’ the Cross Keys, but cuddent find thee there.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">Where hast’te been, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then comin out o’ Pipergate, aw met wi’ Willy Rigg,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whe tell’d me that he saw thee stannin p&mdash;&mdash;n on the brig.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">Where hast’te been, &amp;c.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Cummin alang the brig again, aw met wi’ Cristy Gee,</div>
-<div class="verse">He tell’d me et he saw thee gannin down Humeses entery.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">Where hast’te been, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Where hev aw been! aw sune can tell ye that;</div>
-<div class="verse">Cummin up the Key, aw met wi’ Peter Pratt,</div>
-<div class="verse">Meetin Peter Pratt, we met wi’ Tommy Wear,</div>
-<div class="verse">An went t’ Humeses t’ get a gill o’ beer.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s where a’ve been, ma’ canny hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse">There’s where a’ve been, ma’ bonny lam.</div>
-<div class="verse">Wast’tu up an down seekin for yur hinny?</div>
-<div class="verse">Wast’tu up an down seeking for yur lam.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then aw met yur Ben, an we were like to fight;</div>
-<div class="verse">An when we cam to Sandgate it was pick night;</div>
-<div class="verse">Crossin the road, aw met wi’ Bobby Swinny:</div>
-<div class="verse">Hing on the girdle, let’s hev a singin hinny.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent2">Aw my sorrow’s ower now, a’ve fund my hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Aw my sorrow’s ower now, a’ve fund my bairn;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Lang may aw shout, ma’ canny hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Lang may aw shout, ma’ bonny bairn.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>DOL LI A.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>A Song famous in Newcastle about the Years 1792-3-4.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Fresh I’m cum fra Sandgate Street,</div>
-<div class="verse indent8">Do li, do li,</div>
-<div class="verse">My best friends here to meet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Do li a,</div>
-<div class="verse indent8">Dol li th’ dil len dol,</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Do li, do li,</div>
-<div class="verse indent8">Dol li th’ dil len dol,</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Dol li a.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Black Cuffs is gawn away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent8">Do li, do li,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">An that will be a crying day.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Do li a, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Dolly Coxon’s pawn’d her sark,</div>
-<div class="verse indent8">Do li, do li,</div>
-<div class="verse">To ride upon the baggage cart.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Do li a, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Green Cuffs is cummin in,</div>
-<div class="verse indent8">Do li, do li,</div>
-<div class="verse">An that ’ill make the lasses sing.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Do li a, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE TYNE.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By J. Gibson, of Newcastle.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Roll on thy way, thrice happy Tyne!</div>
-<div class="verse">Commerce and riches still are thine;</div>
-<div class="verse">Thy sons in every art shall shine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And make thee more majestic flow.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The busy crowd that throngs thy sides,</div>
-<div class="verse">And on thy dusky bosom glides,</div>
-<div class="verse">With riches swell thy flowing tides,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And bless the soil were thou dost flow.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thy valiant sons, in days of old,</div>
-<div class="verse">Led by their Chieftains, brave and bold,</div>
-<div class="verse">Fought not for wealth, or shining gold,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But to defend thy happy shores.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So e’en as they of old have bled,</div>
-<div class="verse">And oft embrac’d a gory bed,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thy modern sons, by Ridleys led,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Shall rise to shield thy peace-crown’d shores.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Nor art thou blest for this alone,</div>
-<div class="verse">That long thy sons in arms have shone;</div>
-<div class="verse">For every art to them is known,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And science, form’d to grace the mind.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Art, curb’d by War in former days,</div>
-<div class="verse">Has now burst forth in one bright blaze;</div>
-<div class="verse">And long shall his refulgent rays</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Shine bright, and darkness leave behind.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Muses too, with Freedom crown’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Shall on thy happy shores be found,</div>
-<div class="verse">And fill the air with joyous sound</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of&mdash;War and Darkness’ overthrow.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then roll thy way, thrice happy Tyne!</div>
-<div class="verse">Commerce and riches still are thine!</div>
-<div class="verse">Thy sons in arts and arms shall shine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And make thee still majestic flow.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>BLACKETT’s FIELD.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY J. SHIELD, OF NEWCASTLE.</p>
-
-<p class="center">Tune&mdash;<i>John Anderson my Jo</i>.</p>
-
-<p>On account of the confined limits of the Parade Ground of the
-Loyal Newcastle Associated Corps of Volunteer Infantry, it was found
-necessary to lock the door during the time of drill, to prevent the
-crowd interfering with the evolutions of the corps.&mdash;This circumstance
-gave rise to the song.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Near Blackett’s Field, sad hov’ring,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">(’Twas but the other day,)</div>
-<div class="verse">Thus sung a melancholy wight</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His pity-moving lay:&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">How comes this alteration strange!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">What can the matter be,</div>
-<div class="verse">That the brave Association Lads</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are under lock and key?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ah! lately, on a Sunday,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To dine I hardly staid,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">But from my beef and pudding ran,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">T’ attend the gay parade!</div>
-<div class="verse">Now I may stay and pick my bones,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From anxious hurry free;</div>
-<div class="verse">For the brave Association Lads</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are under lock and key!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A dimpling smile still grac’d my cheek,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Brave D&mdash;&mdash;n when I saw;</div>
-<div class="verse">’Twas worth a crown to hear him, too,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Exclaiming ‘<i>Kiver awa’!</i>’</div>
-<div class="verse">But thus to feast my eyes and ears</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">No more my lot shall be;</div>
-<div class="verse">For the brave Association Lads</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are under lock and key!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To church now, when the bells are heard,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With snail-like pace I creep;</div>
-<div class="verse">And there, in manner most devout,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Compose myself to sleep!</div>
-<div class="verse">Thus cheerless pass the ling’ring hours,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So lately fraught with glee,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ere the brave Association Lads</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Were under lock and key!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For pity’s sake, then, Ridley!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thy <i>turnkeys</i> straight <i>discharge</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse">And let thy armed Patriots</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Again be drill’d <i>at large</i>:</div>
-<div class="verse">So shall my Sunday afternoons,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In <i>gazing</i>, joyous flee,</div>
-<div class="verse">When the brave Association Lads</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ar’n’t under lock, and key!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Think&mdash;urg’d by curiosity,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To climb the Spital walls,</div>
-<div class="verse">Should any of thy neighbours there,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sad, break their necks by falls.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">O would not such mischances dire</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Be justly charg’d on thee,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who keeps the Association Lads</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thus under lock and key?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Imagine not thy warriors brave,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To glory who aspire,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilst thus <i>confin’d</i> in Blackett’s field,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their station much admire!</div>
-<div class="verse">Ah! no; in <i>Heaton cellars</i> they</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Would rather chuse to be,</div>
-<div class="verse">Most jovial, <i>carrying on the war</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">All under lock and key!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Whilst War’s horrific clangours</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Resound throughout the land,</div>
-<div class="verse">Still may’st thou, gallant Ridley,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thy town’s-men brave command:</div>
-<div class="verse">And, oh! that with your martial toils</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Delighted I may be,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ope wide the door of Blackett’s field;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then break the lock and key!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>KIVER AWA’.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Like the wolves of the forest, ferocious and keen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The French our blest shores may invade!</div>
-<div class="verse">But in arms are the <i>Gotham Invincibles seen</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And who’s of invasion afraid?</div>
-<div class="verse">With ardour heroic each bosom inflames,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">No dangers impress them with awe;</div>
-<div class="verse">And merry they seem, when thus&mdash;&mdash;exclaims,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ye matrons be cheerful, ye virgins be gay,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Your protectors are valiant and true:</div>
-<div class="verse">No more feel alarm’d, as your charms you survey,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At what Frenchmen <i>may venture to do</i>;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">No danger shall reach you, no impudent Gaul,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Shall fill your soft bosoms with awe;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilst in tones energetic, thus &mdash;&mdash; can bawl,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’, Kiver awa”.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No more let the wight, to misfortune a prey,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For relief to the bottle apply;</div>
-<div class="verse">But to chace ev’ry painful remembrance away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To <i>Parade</i> let him instantly hie;</div>
-<div class="verse">There &mdash;&mdash;, whilst ardently toiling for fame,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Each thorn from his bosom shall draw:</div>
-<div class="verse">Ah! who can be sad, when they hear him exclaim,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Heav’n prosper thee, Gotham! thou famous old town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of the Tyne the chief glory and pride:</div>
-<div class="verse">May thy heroes acquire immortal renown,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In the dread field of Mars, when they’re try’d:</div>
-<div class="verse">Amongst them, O ne’er may <i>flincher</i> be found;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And that mirth they from <i>duty</i> may draw,</div>
-<div class="verse">Long, long, through their ranks may these accents resound,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’, Kiver awa’.”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>November, 1804.</i></p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>BRITANNIA’S VOLUNTEERS.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By S.G. Kemble, Esq. of Newcastle.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">Tune&mdash;The Newcastle Volunteers’ quick March.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When unprovok’d, when foreign foes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When danger gave occasion,</div>
-<div class="verse">Britannia’s Volunteers arose,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To shield her from invasion.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And still whilst other nations bow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And lowly seek alliance,</div>
-<div class="verse">Should France transgress again, they vow</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To hurl a bold defiance.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Sons of Tyne,&mdash;a youthful band,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With ardent resolution,</div>
-<div class="verse">First arm’d to guard their native land,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their King and Constitution:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Again, whene’er the cause invites,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our liberties revering,</div>
-<div class="verse">To guard those dear, those sacred rights,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They’ll go a volunteering.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The shepherd now, beneath his shed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At eve the dance provoking,</div>
-<div class="verse">Takes up his lov’d neglected reed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Long days of Peace invoking.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To plough-shares tho’ our swords we turn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">No more in arms appearing,</div>
-<div class="verse">With Friendship still our bosoms burn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Kind actions volunteering.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>JOHN DIGGONS.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By J. Stawpert, of Newcastle.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>&mdash;Old England’s Roast Beef.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">John Diggons be I, from a Country Town,</div>
-<div class="verse">But the name is se lang and se bad to get down,</div>
-<div class="verse">Tho’ I’ve swallow’d it often both morning and noon,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">At present excuse me the pain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Oh! at present excuse me the pain.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Father told I, this morning, with quickness to fly,</div>
-<div class="verse">Away to Newcastle, I ask’d him for why?&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">To learn something there, for her sons now stand high,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">They’ve been fighting the French off Cadiz,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">They’ve been fighting the French off Cadiz.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Well, father, says I, but I don’t much like;</div>
-<div class="verse">For the Frenchmen, they say, are so given to strike,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yes, unto an Englishman; that’s it, you tyke!</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Have you never yet learn’d the <i>sea phrase</i>?</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Have you never yet learn’d the <i>sea phrase</i>?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Why, as to your <i>sea frays</i>, I know not, dear dad,</div>
-<div class="verse">But frays in our village are oftentimes bad,</div>
-<div class="verse">And it must be much worse for a poor country lad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">To fight where he can’t run away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">To fight where he can’t run away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At last he insisted I’d come to this town,</div>
-<div class="verse">And get some small knowledge of gaining renown,</div>
-<div class="verse">Buy myself a blue jacket, and put off the clown,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And fight for my country and king,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And fight for my country and king.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But coming up street there, I coud’n’t get quick,</div>
-<div class="verse">The folks on the pavement were standing se thick,</div>
-<div class="verse">So I turn’d myself round, and lean’d over my stick,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And heard a poor beggar boy sing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And heard a poor beggar boy sing.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He sung how that Nelson had lately been shot;</div>
-<div class="verse">Oh! I verily thought I’d have died on the spot,</div>
-<div class="verse">For father told I that lead, e’en boiling hot,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Wou’d ne’er take the life of this man,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Wou’d ne’er take the life of this man.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At length the boy prov’d, e’er he ended his song,</div>
-<div class="verse">That nature and valour, however so strong,</div>
-<div class="verse">Must still bow to fate; so poor father was wrong:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And Nelson’s gon&mdash;dead after all,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And Nelson’s gon&mdash;dead after all.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But now I’m determin’d, since this is the case,</div>
-<div class="verse">To write to Lord Collingwood straight for a place,</div>
-<div class="verse">For they say he’s right fond of a North Country face:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">So I may chance to revenge Nelson’s wrongs,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">So I may chance to revenge Nelson’s wrongs.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Adieu, then, my friends, your best wishes I’ll take,</div>
-<div class="verse">Oh! send them all good for your <i>Collingwood’s sake</i>!</div>
-<div class="verse">For your Country and you his life’s oft been at stake,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Then bless him, and thank his brave Tars!</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Then bless him, and thank his brave Tars!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I’ll say that I left you all singing his praise,</div>
-<div class="verse">And begging of Neptune more laurels to raise,</div>
-<div class="verse">That in England you hope he’ll soon wear the green bays,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And be blest with his friends for past toils,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And be blest with his friends for past toils.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>TRAFALGAR’S BATTLE.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By the same.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>&mdash;Chapter of Kings.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In a battle, you know, we Britons are strong;</div>
-<div class="verse">A battle, my friends, is the theme of my song;</div>
-<div class="verse">Had it not been for this, and the sake of my king,</div>
-<div class="verse">No mortal, I am sure, had forc’d me to sing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And Nelson, that great man,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Who bother’d the Frenchmen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">At Trafalgar’s great battle, and died.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His mem’ry must be to each Englishman dear,</div>
-<div class="verse">For his heart in a battle had never met fear:</div>
-<div class="verse">Should those that are left e’er encounter another,</div>
-<div class="verse">We may hear something new from our Nelson’s brave Brother.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Who fought with that <i>great man</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Who bother’d the Frenchmen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">At Trafalgar’s great battle, and died.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">’Tis Collingwood he, our Townsman and friend,</div>
-<div class="verse">May heaven send Angels his life to attend,</div>
-<div class="verse">To guard him through dangers on Oceans great space,</div>
-<div class="verse">Returning in Peace may we all see his face.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">To bless him, caress him,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">In kind words address him,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Ye Britons and <i>Sons</i> of the <i>Tyne</i>.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Though Nelson is dead, yet we ought not to mourn;</div>
-<div class="verse">The laurels that deck his magnificent Urn,</div>
-<div class="verse">Are sufficient for mortals that dwell here below;</div>
-<div class="verse">Let Heaven’s great King other laurels bestow</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">On him we adore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Who fought off the shore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">At Trafalgar’s great battle, and died.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Drink a toast, then, my friends, to his dear honour’d shade,</div>
-<div class="verse">Each widow, each wife, every matron, and maid,</div>
-<div class="verse">And though you lament for the loss of his blood,</div>
-<div class="verse">Drink a health to our own, our brave Collingwood,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Who fought with that <i>great man</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">That bother’d the Frenchmen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">At Trafalgar’s great battle, and died.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>CHESTER WELL.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By George Pickering, late of Newcastle.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Turks, Infidels, Pagans, Jews, Christians, and Tartars,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Kings, Princes, Queens, Nobles, and Bishops, I pray;</div>
-<div class="verse">Ye Hottentots too, who to neatness are martyrs,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Attend for a while to my wonderful lay.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">At Chester, they tell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Is discover’d a well,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which eases in man as in beast ev’ry torture;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Hyp, glanders, and evil,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">It sends to the devil,</div>
-<div class="verse">And silence has seal’d up the pestle and mortar.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Oh Chester, Oh Chester!</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">When maladies pester,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thy liquid Catholicon eases our pain!</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Mad Turks, Jews, Philistines,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Mad Quakers and Christians,</div>
-<div class="verse">Are dipp’d into peace and good order again.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No more of old Bath, oh ye medical asses!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With nose-kissing cane, and your full bottom’d wigs;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">The Chester Well water in virtue surpasses;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Tho’ Bath cur’d the scab in prince Lud and his pigs.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Since the days of old Adam,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Or Eve, lovely madam,</div>
-<div class="verse">No well was e’er found fit for drinking till now:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">As the liquid ye glut,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">’Tis as sweet as a nut,</div>
-<div class="verse">While Bath’s an emetic for boar, pig, or sow.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Oh Chester, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The maiden who flies to her pillow in sorrow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who wakes with a sigh to the music of day;</div>
-<div class="verse">By tasting to-night, may be happy to-morrow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And warble as blythe as the birds on the spray.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">The tear shall cease flowing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Her heart cease its glowing,</div>
-<div class="verse">For plighted troth broken, no longer complain;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">The bow and the dart,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">That occasion’d her smart,</div>
-<div class="verse">’Squire Cupid may twang, but their twanging be vain.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Oh Chester, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And oh let the damsel, whose ringlets appear</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To be mournfully silvering over with grey;</div>
-<div class="verse">Who sees in her glass, with dejection and fear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That Time’s with’ring hand bids her beauties decay:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Ne’er let her be fretful,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">But drink and be cheerful,</div>
-<div class="verse">The stream both her thirst and her grief shall assuage:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">No more let her mourn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">For her bloom shall return,</div>
-<div class="verse">She shall cast off the sad, sober liv’ry of age.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Oh Chester, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The gouty old blades who have drank the clear liquid,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Have snapp’d the fir crutches at seventy-seven;</div>
-<div class="verse">And into the skulls, long incurably stupid,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A portion of good common-sense has been driv’n.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">E’en the nose of the sot,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">As a heater red hot,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or a flaming balloon which philosophy rears,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
-<div class="verse indent3">When dipt in the water,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">The luminous matter</div>
-<div class="verse">Goes out with a <i>hiss</i>, and the blaze disappears.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Oh Chester, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then haste to the Well, both exotic and native,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A dip and a drink all your sorrows will root out;</div>
-<div class="verse">Ye too who have groan’d ’neath the knife amputative,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Go plunge, and your heads, legs, <i>et cet’ra</i>, shall sprout out:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">The tribe of empirics,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Shall howl in hysterics,</div>
-<div class="verse">And man shall untortur’d fall into decay:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">The pill and the potion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">The ungent and lotion,</div>
-<div class="verse">In box and in bottle shall moulder away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Oh Chester, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>NEWCASTLE BEER.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By John Cunningham.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When Fame brought the news of Great Britain’s success,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And told at Olympus each Gallic defeat;</div>
-<div class="verse">Glad Mars sent by Mercury orders express,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To summon the deities all to a treat:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Blithe Comus was plac’d</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">To guide the gay feast,</div>
-<div class="verse">And freely declar’d there was choice of good cheer;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Yet vow’d to his thinking,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">For exquisite drinking,</div>
-<div class="verse">Their nectar was nothing to Newcastle beer.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The great god of war, to encourage the fun,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And humour the taste of his whimsical guest,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sent a message that moment to Moor’s<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> for a tun</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of stingo, the stoutest, the brightest and best;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
-<div class="verse indent4">No gods, they all swore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Regal’d so before,</div>
-<div class="verse">With liquor so lively, so potent, and clear:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And each deified fellow</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Got jovially mellow,</div>
-<div class="verse">In honour, brave boys, of our Newcastle beer.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Apollo, perceiving his talents refine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Repents he drank Helicon water so long;</div>
-<div class="verse">He bow’d, being ask’d by the musical Nine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And gave the gay board an extempore song:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">But ere he began,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">He toss’d off his cann:</div>
-<div class="verse">There’s nought like good liquor the fancy to clear:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Then sang with great merit,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The flavour and spirit,</div>
-<div class="verse">His godship had found in our Newcastle beer.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">’Twas stingo like this made Alcides so bold,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It brac’d up his nerves, and enliven’d his pow’rs;</div>
-<div class="verse">And his mystical club, that did wonders of old,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was nothing, my lads, but such liquor as ours.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The horrible crew</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">That Hercules slew,</div>
-<div class="verse">Were Poverty&mdash;Calumny&mdash;Trouble&mdash;and Fear:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Such a club would you borrow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">To drive away sorrow,</div>
-<div class="verse">Apply for a jorum of Newcastle beer.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ye youngsters, so diffident, languid, and pale,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whom love, like the cholic, so rudely infests;</div>
-<div class="verse">Take a cordial of this, ’twill <i>probatum</i> prevail,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And drive the cur Cupid away from your breasts:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Dull whining despise,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Grow rosy and wise,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor longer the jest of good fellows appear;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Bid adieu to your folly,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Get drunk and be jolly,</div>
-<div class="verse">And smoke o’er a tankard of Newcastle beer.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ye fanciful folk, for whom Physic prescribes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whom bolus and potion have harrass’d to death!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Ye wretches, whom Law and her ill-looking tribes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Have hunted about ’till you’re quite out of breath!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Here’s shelter and ease,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">No craving for fees,</div>
-<div class="verse">No danger&mdash;no doctor&mdash;no bailiff is near!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Your spirits this raises,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">It cures your diseases,</div>
-<div class="verse">There’s freedom and health in our Newcastle beer.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> A great Beer House in Newcastle at that time, kept by Moor, at
-the sign of the Sun.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>MY LORD ’SIZE;<br />
-<i>Or, Newcastle in an Uproar.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center">By <span class="smcap">J. Shield</span>, of Newcastle.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The jailor, for trial, had brought up a thief,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose looks seem’d a passport for Botany Bay;</div>
-<div class="verse">The lawyers, some <i>with</i> and some <i>wanting</i> a brief,</div>
-<div class="verse">Around the green table were seated so gay:</div>
-<div class="verse">Grave jurors and witnesses, waiting a call;</div>
-<div class="verse">Attornies and clients, more angry than wise,</div>
-<div class="verse">With strangers and town’s-people, throng’d the Guild-Hall,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">All waiting and gaping to see my <i>Lord ’Size</i>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Oft stretch’d were their necks, oft erected their ears,</div>
-<div class="verse">Still fancying they heard of the trumpets the sound,</div>
-<div class="verse">When tidings arriv’d, which disolv’d them in tears,</div>
-<div class="verse">That my Lord at the dead-house was then lying drown’d!</div>
-<div class="verse">Straight left <i>tête a tête</i> were the jailor and thief;</div>
-<div class="verse">The horror-struck crowd to the dead-house quick hies;</div>
-<div class="verse">Ev’n the lawyers, forgetful of fee and of brief,</div>
-<div class="verse">Set off, helter-skelter, to view my <i>Lord ’Size</i>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And now the Sandhill with the sad tidings rings,</div>
-<div class="verse">And the <i>tubs</i> of the <i>taties</i> are left to take care;</div>
-<div class="verse">Fish-women desert their crabs, lobsters, and lings,</div>
-<div class="verse">And each to the dead-house now runs like a hare.</div>
-<div class="verse">The Glassmen, some <i>naked</i>, some <i>clad</i>, heard the news,</div>
-<div class="verse">And off they ran smoking, like hot mutton-pies;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilst Castle-garth Tailors, like wild <i>Kangaroos</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse">Came, <i>tail-on-end</i> jumping, to see my <i>Lord ’Size</i>.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The dead-house they reach’d, where his Lordship they found,</div>
-<div class="verse">Pale, stretch’d on a plank, like themselves <i>out of breath</i>;</div>
-<div class="verse">The <i>Crowner</i> and Jury were seated around,</div>
-<div class="verse">Most gravely enquiring the cause of his death.</div>
-<div class="verse">No haste did they seem in, their task to complete,</div>
-<div class="verse">Aware that from hurry mistakes often rise;</div>
-<div class="verse">Or wishful, perhaps, of prolonging the treat</div>
-<div class="verse">Of thus sitting in judgment upon my <i>Lord ’Size</i>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now the Mansion-house Butler thus gravely depos’d:&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">“My Lord on the terrace seem’d studying his <i>charge</i>;</div>
-<div class="verse">And when (as I thought) he had got it compos’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">He went down the stairs and examin’d the barge.</div>
-<div class="verse">First the stem he survey’d, then inspected the stern,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then handled the tiller, and look’d mighty wise;</div>
-<div class="verse">But he made a false step when about to return,</div>
-<div class="verse">And souse in the river straight tumbled <i>Lord ’Size</i>.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now his narrative ended&mdash;the Butler retir’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilst <i>Betty Watt</i>, mut’ring (half drunk) thro’ her teeth,</div>
-<div class="verse">Declar’d, “in her <i>breest great consarn</i> it inspir’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">That my Lord should sae <i>cullishly</i> come by his <i>deeth</i>.”</div>
-<div class="verse">Next a keelman was call’d on, <i>Bold Archy</i> his name,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who the book as he kiss’d shew’d the whites of his eyes;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then he cut an odd caper, attention to claim,</div>
-<div class="verse">And this evidence gave them respecting <i>Lord ’Size</i>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Aw was <i>setten</i> the keel, wi’ <i>Dick Stavers</i> an’ <i>Mat</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse">An’ the Mansion-hoose Stairs we were just alangside,</div>
-<div class="verse">When we a’ three <i>see’d sumthing</i>, but didn’t ken <i>what</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse">That was <i>splashing</i> and <i>labbering</i> aboot i’ the tide.</div>
-<div class="verse">“It’s a <i>fluiker</i>!” ki Dick; “No,” ki Mat, “it’s owre big,</div>
-<div class="verse">“It luik’d mair like a <i>skyat</i> when aw furst see’d it rise:”</div>
-<div class="verse">Kiv aw&mdash;for aw’d getten a gliff o’ the wig&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Odds marcy! Wye, marrows, becrike it’s <i>Lord ’Size</i>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sae aw huik’d him an’ hawl’d him suin into the keel,</div>
-<div class="verse">An’ o’top o’ the huddock aw rowl’d him aboot;</div>
-<div class="verse">An’ his belly aw rubb’d, an’ aw skelp’d his back weel,</div>
-<div class="verse">But the wayter he’d drucken it wadn’t run oot.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Sae aw brought him ashore here, an’ doctors, in vain,</div>
-<div class="verse">Furst <i>this</i> way, then <i>that</i>, to recover him tries;</div>
-<div class="verse">For ye see there he’s lying as <i>deed</i> as a stane,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">An’ that’s a’ aw can tell ye about my <i>Lord ’Size</i>.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now the Jury for close consultation retir’d:</div>
-<div class="verse">Some “<i>Death accidental</i>” were willing to find;</div>
-<div class="verse">Some “<i>God’s visitation</i>” most eager requir’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">And some were for “<i>Fell in the river</i>” inclin’d:</div>
-<div class="verse">But ere on their verdict they all were agreed,</div>
-<div class="verse">My Lord gave a groan, and wide open’d his eyes;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then the coach and the trumpeters came with great speed,</div>
-<div class="verse">And back to the Mansion-house carried <i>Lord ’Size</i>.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>BOB CRANKY’s ’SIZE SUNDAY.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By John Selkirk.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">Set to Music by <span class="smcap">Thomas Train</span>, of Gateshead.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ho’way and aw’ll sing thee a tune, mun,</div>
-<div class="verse">’Bout huz see’n my Lord at the town, mun,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Aw seer aw was smart, now</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Aw’ll lay thee a quart, now</div>
-<div class="verse">Nyen’ them aw cut a dash like Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When aw pat on my blue coat that shines se,</div>
-<div class="verse">My jacket wi’ posies se fine see,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">My sark sic sma’ threed, man,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">My pig-tail se greet, man!</div>
-<div class="verse">Od smash! what a buck was Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Blue stockings, white clocks, and reed garters,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yellow breeks, and my shoon wi’ lang quarters,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Aw myed wour bairns cry,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Eh! sarties! ni! ni!</div>
-<div class="verse">Sic verra fine things had Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Aw went to awd Tom’s and fand Nancy,</div>
-<div class="verse">Kiv aw, Lass, thou’s myed to my fancy;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
-<div class="verse indent2">Aw like thou as weel</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">As a stannin pye heel,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ho’way to the town wi’ Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">As up Jenny’s backside we were bangin,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ki’ Geordy, How! where are ye gannin?</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Weyt’ see my lord ’Sizes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">But ye shanna gan aside us,</div>
-<div class="verse">For ye’re not half se fine as Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ki’ Geordy, We leve i’ yen raw, weyet,</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ yen corf we byeth gan belaw, weyet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">At a’ things aw’ve play’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And to hew aw’m not flay’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Wi’ sic in a chep as Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Bob hez thee at lowpin and flingin,</div>
-<div class="verse">At the bool, foot-ball, clubby, and swingin:</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Can ye jump up and shuffle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And cross owre the buckle,</div>
-<div class="verse">When ye dance? like the clever Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thou naws, i’ my hoggars and drawers,</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw’m nyen o’ your scarters and clawers:</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Fra the trap door bit laddy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">T’ the spletter his daddy,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nyen handles the pick like Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So, Geordy, od smash my pit sarik!</div>
-<div class="verse">Thou’d best had thy whisht about warik,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Or aw’ll sobble thy body,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And myek thy nose bloody,</div>
-<div class="verse">If thou sets up thy gob to Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Nan laugh’d&mdash;t’church we gat without ’im;</div>
-<div class="verse">The greet crowd, becrike, how aw hew’d ’em!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Smasht a keel-bully roar’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Clear the road! Whilk’s my lord?</div>
-<div class="verse">Owse se high as the noble Bob Cranky.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Aw lup up an’ catch’d just a short gliff</div>
-<div class="verse">O’ lord trial, the trumpets, and sheriff,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Wi’ the little bit mannies,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Se fine and se canny,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ods heft! what a seet for Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then away we set off to the yell-house,</div>
-<div class="verse">Wiv a few hearty lasses and fellows,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Aw tell’d owre the wig,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Se curl’d and se big;</div>
-<div class="verse">For nyen saw’d se weel as Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Aw gat drunk, fit, and kick’d up a racket,</div>
-<div class="verse">Rove my breeks and spoil’d a’ my fine jacket:</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Nan cry’d and she cuddled</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">My hinny, thou’s fuddled,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ho’way hyem now, my bonny Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So we stagger’d alang fra the town, mun,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whiles gannin, whiles baith fairly down, mun:</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Smash, a banksman or hewer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">No not a fine viewer,</div>
-<div class="verse">Durst jaw to the noble Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">What care aw for my new suit, a’ tatters,</div>
-<div class="verse">Twe black een&mdash;od smash a’ sic maters!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">When my lord comes agyen, mun,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Aw’l strive every byen, mun,</div>
-<div class="verse">To bang a’ wor Concern, ki’ Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O’ the flesh and breed day when wour bun’, mun,</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw’l buy clase far bonnyer than thon, mun;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">For, od smash my neavel!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">As lang as wour yebble,</div>
-<div class="verse">Let’s keep up the day, ki’ Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>BOB CRANKY’s COMPLAINT.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Odd smash! ’tis hard aw can’t rub dust off,</div>
-<div class="verse">To see ma lord wi’ wig se fine toss’d off,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">But they mak a sang man</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Aw can’t tell how lang man,</div>
-<div class="verse">All myeking a gam o’ Bob Cranky.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ma blue coat and pigtail’s my awn, wyet!</div>
-<div class="verse">And when to Newcassel I gang, wyet!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Aw like to shaw town folks,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Whe se oft ca’ us gowks,</div>
-<div class="verse">They ar’n’t se fine as Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If aw fin the Owther, as sure as a’m Bob,</div>
-<div class="verse">A’ll mak him sing the wrang side o’ his gob,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">A’ll gi’m sic sobbling</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">A’ll set him hyem hobbling,</div>
-<div class="verse">For myeking a gam o’ Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A’ll myek his noddle as reed as ma garters;</div>
-<div class="verse">A’ve a lang stick, as weel as lang quarters,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Whilk a’ll lay ow’r his back,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">’Till he swears ne’er to mak</div>
-<div class="verse">Ony mair sangs o’ Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Aw wonder the maist how he did spy,</div>
-<div class="verse">What was dyun, when nobody was by&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Some Conj’rer he maun be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Sic as wi’ Punch aw did see,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilk myed the hair stand o’ Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our viewer sez aw can’t de better,</div>
-<div class="verse">Than send him a story cull letter.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">But writing a’ll let rest;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">The pik fits ma hand best,</div>
-<div class="verse">A pen’s owr sma for Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Nan, whe a’ll marry or its very lang,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sez, “Hinny, din’t mind the cull fellow’s sang,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">“Gif he dis se agyan,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">“Our schyul maister’s pen</div>
-<div class="verse">“Shall tak pairt wi’ ma bonny Bob Cranky.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Ize warrn’t, gif aw weer my pillease,</div>
-<div class="verse">“An ma hat myed of very sma strees;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">“He’ll be chock full o’ spite,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">“An about us will write,</div>
-<div class="verse">“An say Ize owre fine for Bob Cranky.”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Sure, Bobby,” says she, “his head’s got a crack,”</div>
-<div class="verse">“Ne maiter,” sed I, an gov her a smack.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">“Pilleases are tippy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">“Like shugar’s thy lippy,</div>
-<div class="verse">“And thou shalt be wife to Bob Cranky.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Crankies, farrer back nor I naw,</div>
-<div class="verse">Hae gyen to Sizes to see trumpets blaw,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Wi’ white sticks, an’ Sheriff,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">But warn’t myed a sang of,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor laugh’d at, like clever Bob Cranky.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Lord Sizes cums but yence a year, wyet!</div>
-<div class="verse">To see his big wig a’ve ne fear, wyat!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">So be-crike! while aw leeve,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Thof wi’ lang sangs a’m deav’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Me Lord at the church shall see Cranky!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE BONNY GEATSIDERS.&mdash;1805.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">Tune&mdash;<i>Bob Cranky</i>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come marrows, we’ve happen’d to meet now,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sae our thropples together we’ll weet now;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Aw’ve myed a new sang,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And to sing ye’t aw lang,</div>
-<div class="verse">For it’s about the Bonny Geatsiders.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Of a’ the fine Volunteer corpses,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whether <i>footmen</i>, or ridin o’ horses,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">’Tween the Tweed and the Tees,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Deel hae them that sees</div>
-<div class="verse">Sic a corpse as the Bonny Geatsiders.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Whilk amang them can mairch, turn, an wheel sae?</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilk their guns can wise off half sae weel sae?</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Nay, for myeking a <i>crack</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Through England aw’l back</div>
-<div class="verse">The Corpse of the Bonny Geatsiders.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When the time for parading nigh hand grows,</div>
-<div class="verse">A’wash their sel’s clean i’ the sleek trough;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Fling off their black duddies,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Leave hammers and studdies,</div>
-<div class="verse">And to drill&mdash;run the Bonny Geatsiders.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To Newcasel, for three weeks up-stannin,</div>
-<div class="verse">On Permanent Duty they’re gannin;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And sune i’ th’ papers,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">We’s read a’ the capers,</div>
-<div class="verse">O’ the corpse o’ the Bonny Geatsiders.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Newcassel chaps fancy they’re clever,</div>
-<div class="verse">And are vauntin and braggin for ever;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">But they’ll find themselves wrang,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">If they think they can bang,</div>
-<div class="verse">At soug’rin, the Bonny Geatsiders.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Gen’ral sall see they can loup dykes,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or mairch through whins, lair whooles, and deep sykes;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Nay, to soom (at a pinch)</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Through Tyne, wad’nt flinch</div>
-<div class="verse">The corpse o’ the Bonny Geatsiders.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Some think Billy Pitt’s nobbit hummin,</div>
-<div class="verse">When he tells about Bonnepart cummin;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">But come when he may,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">He’ll lang rue the day</div>
-<div class="verse">He first meets wi’ the Bonny Geatsiders.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Like an anchor shank, smash! how they’ll clatter ’im,</div>
-<div class="verse">And turn ’im, and skelp ’im, and batter ’im,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">His banes sall by pring,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Like a fryin pan ring,</div>
-<div class="verse">When he meets wi’ the Bonny Geatsiders.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Let them ance get ’im into their taings weel,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nae fear but they’ll give ’im his whaings weel;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And to Hazlett’s<a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> pond bring ’im,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And there in chains hing ’im;</div>
-<div class="verse">What a seet for the Bonny Geatsiders!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now, marrows, to shew we’re a’ loyal,</div>
-<div class="verse">And that, wi’ the King and Blood Royal,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">We’ll a’ soom or sink,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Quairts a piece let us drink,</div>
-<div class="verse">To the brave and the Bonny Geatsiders.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> A Pond on Gateshead Fell, so named on account of the Body
-of Robert Hazlett being hung in Chains there, September, 1770, for
-robbing the Mail.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>BOB CRANKY’s ADIEU.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>On going with the Volunteer Association, from Gateshead to
-Newcastle, on permanent Duty.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">By <span class="smcap">John Shield</span>, of Newcastle.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Fareweel, fareweel, ma comely pet!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Aw’s fourc’d three weeks to leave thee;</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw’s doon for <i>parm’ent duty</i> set,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">O dinna let it grieve thee!</div>
-<div class="verse">Ma hinny! wipe them e’en, sae breet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That mine wi’ love did dazzle;</div>
-<div class="verse">When thy heart’s sad can mine be leet!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Come, ho’way get a jill o’ beer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Thy heart to cheer:</div>
-<div class="verse">An’ when thou sees me mairch away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Whiles in, whiles out</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">O’ step, nae doot,</div>
-<div class="verse">“Bob Cranky’s gane&mdash;” thou’lt sobbing say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">“A sougering to Newcassel!”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come, dinna, dinna whinge and whipe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Like yammering Isbel Macky;</div>
-<div class="verse">Cheer up, ma hinny! leet thy pipe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And take a blast o’ backy!</div>
-<div class="verse">It’s but for yen and twenty days,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The foulks’s een aw’ll dazzle,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Prood, swagg’ring i’ my fine reed claes:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Odds heft! my pit claes&mdash;dist thou hear?</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Are waurse o’ wear;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Mind cloot them weel, when aw’s away;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">An’ a posie gown</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Aw’ll buy thee soon,</div>
-<div class="verse">An’ thou’s drink thy tea&mdash;aye, twice a-day,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">When aw come frae Newcassel.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Becrike! aw’s up tiv every rig,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sae dinna doot, ma hinny!</div>
-<div class="verse">But at the Blue stane o’ the Brig</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Aw’ll ha’e ma mairching Ginny.</div>
-<div class="verse">A Ginny! wuks! sae strange a seet</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ma een wi’ joy will dazzle;</div>
-<div class="verse">But aw’ll hed spent that verra neet&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For money, hinny! owre neet to keep,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Wad brick ma sleep:</div>
-<div class="verse">Sae, smash! aw thinks’t a wiser way,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Wi’ flesh and beer</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Mysel’ to cheer,</div>
-<div class="verse">The lang three weeks that aw’ve to stay,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">A sougering at Newcassel.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But whisht! the sairgent’s tongue aw hear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Fa’ in! fa’ in!” he’s yelpin:</div>
-<div class="verse">The fifes are whusslin’ lood an’ clear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ sair the drums they’re skelpin.</div>
-<div class="verse">Fareweel, ma comely! aw mun gang,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Gen’ral’s een to dazzle;</div>
-<div class="verse">But, hinny! if the time seems lang,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And thou freets about me neet an’ day;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Then come away,</div>
-<div class="verse">Seek out the yell-house where aw stay,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">An’ we’ll kiss and cuddle;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">An’ mony a fuddle</div>
-<div class="verse">Sall drive the langsome hours away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">When sougering at Newcassel.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>O NO, MY LOVE, NO.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By <span class="smcap">John Shield</span>, of Newcastle.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ the welkin rebellows,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And aspects undaunted our Volunteers show,</div>
-<div class="verse">Do you think, O my Delia! to join the brave fellows,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My heart beats impatient? O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At the dawn of the day, their warm beds still forsaking,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To scamper thro’ <i>bogs</i>, or where prickly <i>whins</i> grow,</div>
-<div class="verse">When I view them of pastimes so martial partaking,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Do I sicken with envy? O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Array’d in full splendour, their arms brightly shining,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On <i>guard</i> or on <i>picquet</i>, when proudly they go,</div>
-<div class="verse">(For the pleasures of <i>permanent duty</i> repining)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Do I sigh to go with them? O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Or think you that, eager to quell rude disorder,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">What time our brave heroes shall face the dread foe,</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ve determin’d to serve under Mr Recorder,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In the tip-staff battalion? O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">What means, my lov’d Delia! that frown, now appearing?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Why, why does your brow such severity show?</div>
-<div class="verse">And wherefore those glances, so cold and uncheering?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Do you think me a <i>poltroon</i>? O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Though I wear not a red coat, my honour’s untainted,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Coventry ne’er was I fated to go;</div>
-<div class="verse">But, whilst with the <i>plan of removal</i> acquainted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Can I, cruel, desert thee? O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Soon war from thy home may a fugitive send thee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Soon give thee of keels and their huddocks to know;</div>
-<div class="verse">In the Voyage to Newburn who’ll succour and tend thee;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Shall the task be another’s? O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then wear not my Delia! an aspect so chilling,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor doubt that with ardour heroic I glow;</div>
-<div class="verse">But love’s dear delights shall I barter for <i>drilling</i>?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That smile methinks answers,&mdash;“O no, my love, no.”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>DELIA’s ANSWER.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ our island rebellows,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And aspects terrific proud Frenchmen still show,</div>
-<div class="verse">Do you think, O my Colin! to join our brave fellows</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I e’er would forbid you? O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At the dawn of the day, my bed cheerly forsaking,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’d scamper thro’ <i>bogs</i>, or where prickly <i>whins</i> grow;</div>
-<div class="verse">On a view of your martial manœuvres partaking,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I vow ne’er to leave you: O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Array’d in full splendour, your arms brightly shining,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On <i>guard</i> or on <i>picquet</i>, when proudly you go,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or on <i>permanent duty</i>, do you think that, repining,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’d sighing reprove you? O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Or when you are called to quell rude disorder,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or with brother heroes shall face the dread foe,</div>
-<div class="verse">If my honour I trusted to Mr Recorder,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Will he fail to protect me? O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">What means, then, my Colin! that cold sweat appearing?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Why, why should your brow such timidity show?</div>
-<div class="verse">And where are those glances so cold and uncheering?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Shall I think you a poltroon? O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then, haste, wear a red coat, while your honour’s untainted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or to Coventry you may be fated to go;</div>
-<div class="verse">And tho’ with the plan of removal acquainted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’ll not go to Newburn: O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Soon War from my home may a fugitive send me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And which way, or how, I’m not anxious to know;</div>
-<div class="verse">For I’ll follow the lads that are arm’d to defend me:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Shall the task be another’s? O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then wear not, my Colin! an aspect so chilling,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Let your breast now with ardour heroic but glow,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then love’s dear delights will I barter for <i>drilling</i>:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">You sure can’t refuse me? O no, my love, no.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE COLLIERS RANT.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">As me and my marrow was ganning to wark,</div>
-<div class="verse">We met with the devil, it was in the dark;</div>
-<div class="verse">I up with my pick, it being in the neit,</div>
-<div class="verse">I knock’d off his horns, likewise his club feet.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Follow the horses, Johnny my lad oh!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Follow them through, my canny lad oh!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Follow the horses, Johnny my lad oh!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Oh lad ly away, canny lad oh!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">As me and my marrow was putting the tram,</div>
-<div class="verse">The lowe it went out, and my marrow went wrang;</div>
-<div class="verse">You would have laugh’d had you seen the gam,</div>
-<div class="verse">The deil gat my marrow, but I gat the tram,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Follow the horses, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Oh! marrow, oh! marrow, what dost thou think?</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ve broken my bottle, and spilt a’ my drink;</div>
-<div class="verse">I lost a’ my shin-splints among the great stanes,</div>
-<div class="verse">Draw me t’ the shaft, it’s time to gan hame.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Follow the horses, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Oh! marrow, oh! marrow, where hast thou been?</div>
-<div class="verse">Driving the drift from the low seam,</div>
-<div class="verse">Driving the drift from the low seam:</div>
-<div class="verse">Had up the lowe, lad, deil stop out thy een!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Follow the horses, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Oh! marrow, oh! marrow, this is wor pay week,</div>
-<div class="verse">We’ll get penny loaves and drink to our beek;</div>
-<div class="verse">And we’ll fill up our bumper, and round it shall go,</div>
-<div class="verse">Follow the horses, Johnny lad oh!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Follow the horses, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There is my horse, and there is my tram;</div>
-<div class="verse">Twee horns full of greese will make her to gang;</div>
-<div class="verse">There is my hoggars, likewise my half shoon,</div>
-<div class="verse">And smash my heart, marrow, my putting’s a’ done.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Follow the horses, Johnny my lad oh!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Follow them through my canny lad oh!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Follow the horses, Johnny my lad oh!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Oh lad ly away, canny lad oh!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>WALKER PITS.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>&mdash;Off she goes.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If I had another penny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I would have another gill;</div>
-<div class="verse">I would make the fidlers play</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Bonny Lads of Byker Hill.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Byker Hill and Walker Shore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Collery lads for ever more;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Byker Hill and Walker Shore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Collery lads for ever more.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When I cam to Walker wark,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I had ne coat nor ne pit sark;</div>
-<div class="verse">But now aw’ve getten twe or three,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Walker pit’s deun weel for me.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Byker Hill and Walker shore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Collery lads for ever more;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Byker Hill and Walker Shore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Collery lads for ever more.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE BONNY PIT LADDIE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The bonny pit laddie, the cannie pit laddie,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The bonny pit laddie for me, O!</div>
-<div class="verse">He sits in his hole as black as a coal,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And brings the white siller to me, O!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The bonny pit laddie, the cannie pit laddie,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The bonny pit laddie for me, O!</div>
-<div class="verse">He sits on his cracket, and hews in his jacket,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And brings the white siller to me, O!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE PITMAN’s REVENGE AGAINST BUONAPARTE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Hae ye heard o’ these wondrous dons,</div>
-<div class="verse">That make this mighty fuss, man,</div>
-<div class="verse">About invading Briton’s land?</div>
-<div class="verse">I vow they’re wondrous spruce, man:</div>
-<div class="verse">But little do the Frenchmen ken</div>
-<div class="verse">About our loyal Englishmen;</div>
-<div class="verse">Our collier lads are for cockades,</div>
-<div class="verse">And guns to shoot the French, man.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Toll loll de roll de roll de roll.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then to parade the pitmen went,</div>
-<div class="verse">Wi’ hearts both stout and strong, man;</div>
-<div class="verse">Gad smash the French, we are so strang,</div>
-<div class="verse">We’ll shoot them ev’ry one, man:</div>
-<div class="verse">Gad smash me sark if I would stick</div>
-<div class="verse">To tumble them a’ down the pit,</div>
-<div class="verse">As fast as I could thraw a coal,</div>
-<div class="verse">I’d tumble them a’ down the hole,</div>
-<div class="verse">And close her in aboon, man.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Toll loll, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Heads up, says one, ye silly sow,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ye dinna mind the word, man:</div>
-<div class="verse">Eyes right, says Tom, and wi’ a dam,</div>
-<div class="verse">And march off at the word, man:</div>
-<div class="verse">Did ever mortals see sic brutes,</div>
-<div class="verse">To order me to lift my kutes?</div>
-<div class="verse">Ad smash the fool, he stands and talks,</div>
-<div class="verse">How can he learn me to walk,</div>
-<div class="verse">That’s walk’d this forty year, man?</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Toll loll, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But should the Frenchmen shew their face</div>
-<div class="verse">Upon our waggon ways, man,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then there upon the road, you know,</div>
-<div class="verse">We’d make them end their days, man:</div>
-<div class="verse">Ay Bonaparte’s sel I’d take,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">And throw him in the burning heap,</div>
-<div class="verse">And with great speed I’d roast him deed;</div>
-<div class="verse">His marrows then I wad nae heed,</div>
-<div class="verse">We’d pick out a’ their een, man.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Toll loll, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Says Willy Dunn to loyal Tom,</div>
-<div class="verse">Your words are all a joke, man;</div>
-<div class="verse">For Geordy winna hae your help,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ye’re sic kamstarie fowk, man:</div>
-<div class="verse">Then Willy lad, we’ll rest in peace,</div>
-<div class="verse">In hopes that a’ the wars may cease;</div>
-<div class="verse">But I’s gie ye, Wull, to understand,</div>
-<div class="verse">As lang as I can wield my hand,</div>
-<div class="verse">There’s nane but George shall reign, man.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Toll loll, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Enough of this has shure been said,</div>
-<div class="verse">Cry’d Cowardly Willy Dunn, man;</div>
-<div class="verse">For should the Frenchmen come this way,</div>
-<div class="verse">We’d be ready for to run, man.</div>
-<div class="verse">Gad smash you for a fool, says Tom,</div>
-<div class="verse">For if I could not use my gun,</div>
-<div class="verse">I’d take my pick, I’d hew them down,</div>
-<div class="verse">And run and cry through a’ the town,</div>
-<div class="verse">God save great George our king, man.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Toll loll, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE COLLIERS’ PAY WEEK.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Baff week is o’er&mdash;no repining&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Pay-Saturday’s swift on the wing;</div>
-<div class="verse">At length the blythe morning comes shining,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When kelter makes colliers sing:</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis Spring, and the weather is cheary,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The birds whistle sweet on the spray;</div>
-<div class="verse">Now coal working lads, trim and airy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Newcastle town hie away.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Those married jog on with their <i>hinnies</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their canny bairns go by their side;</div>
-<div class="verse">The daughters keep teazing their minnies</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For new cloaths to keep up their pride:</div>
-<div class="verse">They plead&mdash;Easter Sunday does fear them,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For, if they have nothing that’s new,</div>
-<div class="verse">The <i>Crow</i>, spiteful bird! will besmear them;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Oh then! what a sight for to view!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The young men, full blithsome and jolly,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">March forward, all decently clad;</div>
-<div class="verse">Some lilting up, “<i>Cut-and-dry, Dolly</i>,”</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Some singing, “<i>The bonny Pit Lad</i>:”</div>
-<div class="verse">The pranks that were play’d at last binding</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Engage some in humourous chat;</div>
-<div class="verse">Some halt by the way-side on finding</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Primroses to place in their hat.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Bob Cranky, Jack Hogg, and Dick Marley,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Bill Hewitt, Luke Carr, and Tom Brown,</div>
-<div class="verse">In one jolly squad set off early</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From Benwell to Newcastle town:</div>
-<div class="verse">Such hewers as they (none need doubt it)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ne’er handled a shovel or pick;</div>
-<div class="verse">In high or low seam they could suit it,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In regions next door to Old Nick.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Some went to buy hats and new jackets,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And others to see a bit fun;</div>
-<div class="verse">And some wanted leather and tackets</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To cobble their canny pit shoon:</div>
-<div class="verse">Save the ribbon Dick’s dear had requested,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">(Aware he had plenty of chink)</div>
-<div class="verse">There was no other care him infested,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Unless ’twere his care for good drink.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">[In the morning the dry man advances</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To purl-shop to toss off a gill,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ne’er dreading the ills and mischances</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Attending on those who <i>sit still</i>:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">The drink, Reason’s monitor quelling,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Inflames both the brain and the eyes;</div>
-<div class="verse">The inchantment commenc’d, there’s no telling</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When care-drowning tipplers will rise.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O <span class="smcap">Malt</span>! we acknowledge thy powers</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">What <i>good</i> and what <i>ill</i> dost thou brew!</div>
-<div class="verse">Our good <i>friend</i> in moderate hours&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our <i>enemy</i> when we get fu’:</div>
-<div class="verse">Could thy vot’ries avoid the fell furies</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So often awaken’d by thee,</div>
-<div class="verse">We would seldom need Judges or Juries</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To send folk to Tyburn tree!]</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At length in Newcastle they centre&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In <i>Hardy’s</i>,<a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> a house much renown’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">The jovial company enter,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where stores of good liquor abound:</div>
-<div class="verse">As quick as the servants could fill it,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">(Till emptied was quarts half a score)</div>
-<div class="verse">With heart-burning thirst down they swill it,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And thump on the table for more.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">While thus in fine cue they are seated,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Young cock-fighting Ned from the Fell<a name="FNanchor_5" id="FNanchor_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">Peep’d in&mdash;his “<i>How dye?</i>” repeated,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And hop’d they were all very well;</div>
-<div class="verse">He swore he was pleased to see them&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">One rose up to make him sit down,</div>
-<div class="verse">And join in good fellowship wi’ them,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For him they would spend their last crown.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The liquor beginning to warm them,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In friendship the closer they knit,</div>
-<div class="verse">And tell and hear jokes&mdash;and, to charm them,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Comes <span class="smcap">Robin</span>, from Denton-Bourn pit;</div>
-<div class="verse">An odd witty, comical fellow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At either a jest or a tale,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Especially when he was mellow</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With drinking stout Newcastle ale.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With bousing, and laughing, and smoking,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The time slippeth swiftly away;</div>
-<div class="verse">And while they are ranting and joking</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The church-clock proclaims it mid-day;</div>
-<div class="verse">And now for black-puddings, long measure,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They go to <span class="smcap">Tib Trollibag’s</span> stand,</div>
-<div class="verse">And away bear the glossy rich treasure,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With joy, like curl’d bugles in hand.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And now a choice house they agreed on,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Not far from the head of the Quay;</div>
-<div class="verse">Where they their black puddings might feed on</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And spend the remains of the day;</div>
-<div class="verse">Where pipers and fiddlers resorted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To pick up the straggling pence,</div>
-<div class="verse">And where the pit lads often sported</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their money at Fiddle and Dance.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Blind Willie</span><a name="FNanchor_6" id="FNanchor_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> the fidler sat scraping,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In corner just as they went in:</div>
-<div class="verse">Some Willington callants were shaking</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their feet to his musical din:</div>
-<div class="verse">Jack vow’d he would have some fine cap’ring,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As soon as their dinner was o’er,</div>
-<div class="verse">With the lassie that wore the white apron,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Now reeling about on the floor.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Their hungry stomachs being eased,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And gullets well clear’d with a glass,</div>
-<div class="verse">Jack rose from the table and seized</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The hand of the frolicsome lass.</div>
-<div class="verse">“Ma hinny!” says he, “pray excuse me&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To ask thee to dance I make free.”</div>
-<div class="verse">She reply’d, “I’d be loth to refuse thee!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Now fiddler play&mdash;“Jigging for me.””</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The damsel displays all her graces,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The collier exerts all his power,</div>
-<div class="verse">They caper in circling paces,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And <i>set</i> at each end of the floor:</div>
-<div class="verse">He jumps, and his heels knack and rattle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At turns of the music so sweet</div>
-<div class="verse">He makes such a thundering brattle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The floor seems afraid of his feet.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This couple being seated, rose Bob up,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He wish’d to make one in a jig;</div>
-<div class="verse">But a Wellington lad set his gob up,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">O’er him there should none “<i>run the rig</i>.”</div>
-<div class="verse">For now ’twas his turn for a caper,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And he would dance first as he’d rose;</div>
-<div class="verse">Bob’s passion beginning to vapour,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He twisted his opponent’s nose.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Willington lads, for their Franky,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Jump’d up, to revenge the foul deed;</div>
-<div class="verse">And those in behalf of Bob Cranky</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sprung forward&mdash;for now there was need.</div>
-<div class="verse">Bob canted the form, with a kevel,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As he was exerting his strength;</div>
-<div class="verse">But he got on the lug such a <i>nevel</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That down he came all his long length.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tom Brown, from behind the long table,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Impatient to join in the fight,</div>
-<div class="verse">Made a spring, some rude foe to disable,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For he was a man of some might:</div>
-<div class="verse">Misfortune, alas! was attending,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An accident fill’d him with fear;</div>
-<div class="verse">An old rusty nail his flesh rending,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Oblig’d him to slink in the rear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When sober, a mild man was Marley,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">More apt to join friends than make foes;</div>
-<div class="verse">But rais’d by the juice of the barley,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He put in some sobbling blows.</div>
-<div class="verse">And cock-fighting Ned was their Hector,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A courageous fellow, and stout:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">He stood their bold friend and protector,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And thump’d the opponents about.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">All hand-over-head, topsy turvy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They struck with fists, elbows, and feet,</div>
-<div class="verse">A Wellington callant, called Gurvy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was top-tails tost over the seat:</div>
-<div class="verse">Luke Carr had one eye clos’d entire;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And what is a serio-farce,</div>
-<div class="verse">Poor Robin was cast on the fire,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His breeks torn and burnt off his a&mdash;e.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Oh, Robin! what argued thy speeches?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Disaster now makes thee quite mum;</div>
-<div class="verse">Thy wit could not save the good breeches,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That mencefully cover’d thy bum:</div>
-<div class="verse">To some slop-shop now thou may go trudging,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And lug out some squandering coins;</div>
-<div class="verse">For now ’tis too late to be grudging,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thou cannot go home with bare groins.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">How the warfaring companies parted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Muse chuseth not to proclaim;</div>
-<div class="verse">But, ’tis thought, that, being rather down-hearted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They quietly went&mdash;“toddling hame.”</div>
-<div class="verse">Now ye Collier callants, so clever,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Residing ’tween Tyne and the Wear,</div>
-<div class="verse">Beware, when you fuddle together,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of making too free with strong beer.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Sign of the Black Boy, Groat Market.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_5" id="Footnote_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Gateshead Fell.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_6" id="Footnote_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> William Purvis, a blind fidler so called.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE QUAYSIDE SHAVER.</h2>
-
-<p>Formerly on the Sandhill, and afterwards on the Quay, near the
-Bridge, were people (chiefly women) who, in the open street, on market
-days, performed the office of Barber.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">On each market day, Sir, the folks to the Quay, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Go flocking with beards they have seven days worn.</div>
-<div class="verse">And round the small grate, Sir, in crowds they all wait, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To get themselves shav’d in a rotative turn;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Old soldiers on sticks, Sir, about politics, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Debate&mdash;till at length they quite heated have grown;</div>
-<div class="verse">May nothing escape, Sir, until <i>Madame Scrape</i>, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Cries, “Gentlemen, who is the next to sit down?”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A medley the place is, of those that sell laces,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With fine shirt-neck buttons, and good cabbage nets;</div>
-<div class="verse">Where match-men, at meeting, give a kind greeting,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And ask one another how trade with them sets:</div>
-<div class="verse">Join’d in with <i>Tom Hoggars</i> and little <i>Bob Nackers</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who wander the streets in their fuddling gills;</div>
-<div class="verse">And those folks with bags, Sir, who buy up old rags, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That deal in fly-cages, and paper windmills.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There pitmen, with baskets and gay posey waistcoats,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Discourse about nought but whee puts and hews best:</div>
-<div class="verse">There keelmen, just landed, swear may they be stranded,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">If they’re not shav’d first while their keel’s at the <i>Fest</i>;</div>
-<div class="verse">With a face of coal dust, would frighten one almost,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thro’ off hat and wig, while they usurp the chair;</div>
-<div class="verse">While others stand looking, and think it provoking,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But, for the insult, to oppose them none dare.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When under the chin, Sir, she tucks the cloth in, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their old quid they’ll pop in the pea-jacket cuff;</div>
-<div class="verse">And while they are sitting, do nought but keep spitting,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And looking around with an air fierce and bluff:</div>
-<div class="verse">Such tales as go round, Sir, would be sure to confound, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And puzzle the prolific brain of the wise;</div>
-<div class="verse">But when she prepares, Sir, to take off the hair, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With lather, she whitens them up to the eyes.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No sooner the razor is laid on the face, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then painful distortions take place on the brow;</div>
-<div class="verse">But if they complain, Sir, they’ll find it in vain, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She’ll tell them there’s nought but what <i>Patience</i> can do;</div>
-<div class="verse">And as she scrapes round ’em, if she by chance wound ’em,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They’ll cry out as tho’ she’d bereav’d them of life,</div>
-<div class="verse">“’Od smash your brains, woman! I find the blood’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“I’d rather been shav’d with an au’d gully knife!”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For all they can say, Sir, she still rasps away, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And sweeps round their jaw, the chop torturing tool;</div>
-<div class="verse">Till they in a pet, Sir, request her to whet, Sir:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But she gives them for answer, “Sit still you pist fool!”</div>
-<div class="verse">For all their repining, their twisting and twining,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She forward proceeds till she’s mown off the hair;</div>
-<div class="verse">When finish’d, cries, “There Sir;” then straight from the chair, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They’ll jump, crying, “Daresay you’ve scrap’d the bone bare!”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>SWALWELL HOPPING.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">By J.S. of Gateshead.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune&mdash;“Paddy’s Wedding.”</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent3">Lads! myek a ring,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">An’ hear huz sing</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The sport we had at Swalwell-o;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Wour merry play,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">O’ th’ Hoppen day?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Howay! marrows, an’ aw’ll tell you-o.</div>
-<div class="verse">The sun shines warm on Whickham bank,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Let’s aw lye down at Dolly’s-o,</div>
-<div class="verse">An’ hear ’bout mony a funny prank</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Play’d by the lads at Crowley’s-o.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent3">There was Sam, O zoons!</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Wiv’s pantaloons,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ gravat up owre his gobby-o;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">An’ Willy, thou,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Wi’ th’ jacket blue,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thou was the varra Bobby-o:</div>
-<div class="verse">There was knack knee’d Mat, wiv’s purple suit,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ hopper-a&mdash;s’d Dick, a’ yellow-o:</div>
-<div class="verse">Great Tom was there wi’ H&mdash;ple’s awd coat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ bucksheen’d Bob fra Stella-o.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent3">When we wour drest,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">It was confest,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We shemm’d the cheps fra Newcassel-o:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">So away we set</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">To wour town gyet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To jeer them a’ as they pass’d us-o;</div>
-<div class="verse">We shouted some, and some dung down&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lobstrop’lus fellows, we kick’d them-o:</div>
-<div class="verse">Some culls went hyem, some crush’d to town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Some gat about by Whickham-o.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent3">The spree com on&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">The hat was won</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By carrot-pow’d Jenny’s Jacky-o:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">What a fyess, begok!</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Had buckle-mouth’d Jock,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When he twin’d his jaws for the backy-o!</div>
-<div class="verse">The kilted lasses fell tid pell mell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wi’&mdash;Tally-i-o the grinder-o&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">The smock was gi’en to slavering Nell;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ye’d dropp’d had ye been behind her-o.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent3">Wour dance began,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Awd buck-tyuth’d Nan,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’, Geordy, thou’d Jen Collin-o:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">While the merry black,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Wi’ monny a crack,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Set the tamborine a rolling-o.</div>
-<div class="verse">Like wour forge hammer we bet se true,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An shuk Raw’s house se soundly-o:</div>
-<div class="verse">Tuff canna cum up wi’ Crowley’s crew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor thump the tune se roundly-o.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent3">Then Gyetside Jack,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Wiv’s bloody back,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wad dance wi’ goggle-ey’d Mally-o;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">But up cam Nick,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">An’ gav him a kick,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ a canny bit kind of a fally-o:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">That day a’ Hawk’s blacks may rue,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They gat monny a verra sair clanker-o;</div>
-<div class="verse">Can they de ouse wi’ Crowley’s crew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Frev a needle tiv a anchor-o?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent3">What’s that to say</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">To the bonny fray</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We had wi’ skipper Robin-o:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">The keel bullies a’,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Byeth great and sma’,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Myed a bu&mdash;&mdash;ly tide o’ the Hoppen-o.</div>
-<div class="verse">Gleed Will cry’d, <i>Ma-a!</i> up lup awd Frank,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ Robin that marry’d his dowter-o:</div>
-<div class="verse">We hammer’d their ribs like a anchor shark</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They fand it six weeks after-o.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent3">Bald pyet Jone Carr</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Wad hev a bit spar,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To help his marrows away wid-o:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">But poor awd fellow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">He’d getten ower mellow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So we down’d byeth him and Davy-o:</div>
-<div class="verse">Then Petticoat Robin jumpt up agyen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wiv’s gully to mercykree huz a’,</div>
-<div class="verse">But Willanton Dan laid him flat wiv a styen:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Hurro! for Crowley’s crew, boys a’!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent3">Their hash was sattled,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">So off we rattled,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ jigg’d it up se hearty-o?</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Wi’ monny a shiver,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">An’ lowp se clever,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Can Newcassel turn out sec a party-o?</div>
-<div class="verse">When, wheit dyun ower, the fidlers went,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We stagger’d a hint see merry-o:</div>
-<div class="verse">An’ thro’ wour town, till fairly spent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Roar’d&mdash;Crowley’s Crew an’ Glory-o!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE SANDGATE GIRL’s LAMENTATION.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I was a young maiden truly,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And lived in Sandgate street;</div>
-<div class="verse">I thought to marry a good-man,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To keep me warm at neit.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Some good-like body, some bonny body,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">To be with me at noon;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">But last I married a keelman,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And my good days are done.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I thought to marry a parson,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To hear me say my prayers;</div>
-<div class="verse">But I have married a keelman,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And he kicks me down the stairs.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">He’s an ugly body, a bubbly body,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">An ill-far’d, ugly loon;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And I have married a keelman,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And my good days are done.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I thought to marry a dyer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To die my apron blue;</div>
-<div class="verse">But I have married a keelman,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And he makes me sorely rue.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">He’s an ugly body, a bubbly body,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">An ill-far’d, ugly loon;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And I have married a keelman,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And my good days are done.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I thought to marry a joiner,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To make me chair and stool;</div>
-<div class="verse">But I have married a keelman,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And he’s a perfect fool.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">He’s an ugly body, a bubbly body,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">An ill-far’d, ugly loon;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And I have married a keelman,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And my good days are done.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I thought to marry a sailor,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To bring me sugar and tea;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">But I have married a keelman,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And that he lets me see.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">He’s an ugly body, a bubbly body,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">An ill-far’d, ugly loon;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And I have married a keelman,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And my good days are done.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2><i>A curious Description of the City of Sandgate</i>,<br />
-Wrote some Years ago.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">My muse took flight the other day,</div>
-<div class="verse">And rambling carelessly, astray;</div>
-<div class="verse">I set my thoughts a wand’ring too,</div>
-<div class="verse">The fleeting rover to pursue.</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet as she has an itching still,</div>
-<div class="verse">To mount the great Parnassus hill,</div>
-<div class="verse">I straightway thither did repair,</div>
-<div class="verse">But found she never had been there;</div>
-<div class="verse">That being too divine a place,</div>
-<div class="verse">For her to chant unhallow’d lays;</div>
-<div class="verse">When turning quick my eye around</div>
-<div class="verse">On Tindale’s shore, the wand’rer found,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where she was taking a survey,</div>
-<div class="verse">Of all that in her compass lay;</div>
-<div class="verse">A medley of such objects rose,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which pen but faintly can disclose;</div>
-<div class="verse">But being in a merry pin,</div>
-<div class="verse">And to describe them did begin:&mdash;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Sandgate’s the devil’s besom sure,</div>
-<div class="verse">With which oft times he sweeps the floor;</div>
-<div class="verse">The air’s with glasshouse smoke infected,</div>
-<div class="verse">Confusion of all kinds collected;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nothing but murm’ring, noise, and swearing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Shocks your conscience, grates your hearing.</div>
-<div class="verse">The women black, red, tawny, grey,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who seldom go to church to pray;</div>
-<div class="verse">Who’s sides are ne’er to stays confin’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">To cramp their natural ease behind.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Nor modestly do they think shame,</div>
-<div class="verse">To act what I don’t chuse to name;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor do they stop, when they think meet,</div>
-<div class="verse">To act their lewdness in the street;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whole lots of them do nightly sport,</div>
-<div class="verse">With black and grey, and every sort:</div>
-<div class="verse">Oft in a cannhouse you may view,</div>
-<div class="verse">A gang of this sweet scented crew.</div>
-<div class="verse">Who when they grow a little mellow,</div>
-<div class="verse">Begin to sing and swear and bellow;</div>
-<div class="verse">Like madmen in a rage or fury,</div>
-<div class="verse">Not fearing either judge or jury;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor do I err much when I tell,</div>
-<div class="verse">They’ve little dread of heav’n or hell.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">The wife her husband thus addresses,</div>
-<div class="verse">With doubled fist and flowing tresses,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">“Come, Tom, make haste, let us away,</div>
-<div class="verse">The tide flows high, we cannot stay.”</div>
-<div class="verse">“Nay, answers Tom, deel smash my heart!</div>
-<div class="verse">Let us but have the other quart.”</div>
-<div class="verse">She then begins to sing a song,</div>
-<div class="verse">Would frighten any man but Tom,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">“You idle spendthrift, scant of grace,</div>
-<div class="verse">I wish I ne’er had seen your face;</div>
-<div class="verse">A cleanlier lass was never bred,</div>
-<div class="verse">When I came to your bridal bed.</div>
-<div class="verse">Had fouth of claiths to clead my back,</div>
-<div class="verse">But now I’ve scarce a single plack:</div>
-<div class="verse">You’ve left me bare of bed and claiths,</div>
-<div class="verse">Deel brust you, by your graceless ways;</div>
-<div class="verse">And when you’re drunk as you can see,</div>
-<div class="verse">Come home and curse the bairns and me.</div>
-<div class="verse">Turn topsy turvy all the house,</div>
-<div class="verse">And every thing in it abuse;</div>
-<div class="verse">Throw all the dishes off the shelf,</div>
-<div class="verse">The platters, dubblers, and the delf.</div>
-<div class="verse">And set the plates and spoons, in joke,</div>
-<div class="verse">A flying round the room like smoke:</div>
-<div class="verse">And when your family’s in need,</div>
-<div class="verse">And like to starve for want of breed,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">You’ll grudge for haver-meal to pay,</div>
-<div class="verse">To make them crowdies once a day.</div>
-<div class="verse">These are your pranks, you murd’ring rogue,</div>
-<div class="verse">That every day you have in vogue;</div>
-<div class="verse">And if you do not mend your course,</div>
-<div class="verse">I must go beg&mdash;or else do worse.”</div>
-<div class="verse">Tom out his hand at last did stretch,</div>
-<div class="verse">“What ails you now? you grumbling bitch,</div>
-<div class="verse">Peace! or your hide I’ll soundly switch.</div>
-<div class="verse">Do not I almost ev’ry day,</div>
-<div class="verse">At the <i>lang hinney’s</i> o’er the way,</div>
-<div class="verse">See Geordy Jenkin’s wife and you,</div>
-<div class="verse">Drinking clove waters till you spue!</div>
-<div class="verse">Go to the devil with your brats,</div>
-<div class="verse">And vex me not with d&mdash;&mdash;’d pit-rats,</div>
-<div class="verse">That are not all of my begetting,</div>
-<div class="verse">But plants of other people’s setting.</div>
-<div class="verse">Since you have oft, by your confession,</div>
-<div class="verse">From my embraces made digression,</div>
-<div class="verse">Go home, G-d d&mdash;n your soul, and spin,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or else, by L&mdash;d, I’ll lamb your skin.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Thus fast unto destruction hasting,</div>
-<div class="verse">Their health consuming, money wasting;</div>
-<div class="verse">They drink, and ne’er for home declare,</div>
-<div class="verse">Until they’re pockets are quite bare.</div>
-<div class="verse">Here mangy Scots from banks of Tay,</div>
-<div class="verse">With scarce a plaid to bear away;</div>
-<div class="verse">Half-starv’d, they from the frozen North,</div>
-<div class="verse">Like swarms of locusts, sally forth,</div>
-<div class="verse">Worse than before, on Pharaoh’s land,</div>
-<div class="verse">Were sent by the Almighty hand;</div>
-<div class="verse">Such hardness of their hearts to purge,</div>
-<div class="verse">And for their wickedness them scourge:</div>
-<div class="verse">This mugletonian blackguard breed,</div>
-<div class="verse">Upon our very vitals feed;</div>
-<div class="verse">And, like the whelps of Juno’s pack,</div>
-<div class="verse">Of Scots infection bring a smack;</div>
-<div class="verse">When hither come, they seldom fail</div>
-<div class="verse">To scrape the scabs from off their tail;</div>
-<div class="verse">By artful tricks, and well form’d lies,</div>
-<div class="verse">To skippers or such like, they rise:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">And thus get breeches warm to wear,</div>
-<div class="verse">To hide their a&mdash;e that then was bare;</div>
-<div class="verse">And then set up their crops and talk,</div>
-<div class="verse">As if they sprung from noble stalk.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">At midnight these, and such like sots,</div>
-<div class="verse">With noddles full, from stinking pots</div>
-<div class="verse">Of rank geneva, and of rum,</div>
-<div class="verse">They raise a scent where’er they come;</div>
-<div class="verse">Reel, cursing, in a grumbling tone,</div>
-<div class="verse">In some dark lane, where sun ne’er shone,</div>
-<div class="verse">But darkness dire, surrounds the place,</div>
-<div class="verse">An emblem of their foul disgrace:</div>
-<div class="verse">Oft in a house decay’d with age,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which scarce will bear the winter’s rage;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose crazy outshots threat’ning hing</div>
-<div class="verse">About their ears, a peal to ring;</div>
-<div class="verse">They tumble in one common bed,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where all are there promiscuous laid;</div>
-<div class="verse">And ten to one, but as they fall,</div>
-<div class="verse">They break their heads against the wall;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor do they mind to choose their wives,</div>
-<div class="verse">With whom they’re bound to lead their lives;</div>
-<div class="verse">But to the first they come do keep,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where, if they’re drunk, they fall asleep.</div>
-<div class="verse">If not, there’s oft a general horning</div>
-<div class="verse">Takes place before the next day morning.&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Gomorrah ne’er could fuller be</div>
-<div class="verse">Than <i>Sandgate</i> with impiety,</div>
-<div class="verse">So cramm’d with immorality</div>
-<div class="verse">Is every one, that if there be</div>
-<div class="verse">A place on earth resembling hell,</div>
-<div class="verse">That lot on <i>Sandgate</i> surely fell:&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Each soul’s as bad as &mdash;&mdash; I’ll prove it.</div>
-<div class="verse">This is <i>Sandgate</i>,&mdash;can you love it?</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE CROW’S NEST,</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Built on the Top of the Exchange Steeple<a name="FNanchor_7" id="FNanchor_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a>; with a Prophecy,
-by One of the Crows, of what is to happen the Nation, and
-particularly the Town of Newcastle.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When war’s destructive rage did cease,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In fatal, humbling, <i>eighty-three</i>,<a name="FNanchor_8" id="FNanchor_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">And men were blest again with peace,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We wond’rous prodigies did see.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Thirteen (once prescribed) States,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Doom’d by the hangman’s cord to die;</div>
-<div class="verse">Great kings (so th’ will’d all pow’rful fates)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Before them almost prostrate lie.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then fair Italia’s classic ground,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And rich Sicilia’s beauteous shore,</div>
-<div class="verse">With palaces and temples crown’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Alas! alas! are now no more<a name="FNanchor_9" id="FNanchor_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But stranger prodigies than these</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Appear in Britain’s happy land,</div>
-<div class="verse">(They say, “that wonders never cease,”)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For North and Fox go hand in hand.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">R&mdash;h&mdash;d and S&mdash;d&mdash;ch, of one mind,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And all their mutual wrongs forgive,</div>
-<div class="verse">(What wonders can be left behind!)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And henceforth like twin brothers live.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The frenzy seiz’d the feather’d race,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For (now when <i>Pitt</i> would mend the nation)</div>
-<div class="verse">The crows on Captain Stephenson’s trees,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sat, settling plans of reformation.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">An aged Rook perch’d on a bough,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With hoary head and jetty wing,</div>
-<div class="verse">His plumy neighbours round him drew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Britain’s fate he thus did sing.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Listen, ye Crows, my brethren all,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And hear what my ill-boding mind</div>
-<div class="verse">Fortells&mdash;Britannia soon must fall!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I snuff its ruin in the wind.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“For kings, by tyranny, have driven</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fair Freedom from Europa’s States;</div>
-<div class="verse">(Freedom! thou choicest gift of Heaven!)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then hear the doom fix’d by the fates:&mdash;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Since men the heavenly gift despise,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And o’er th’ Atlantic Freedom’s fled,</div>
-<div class="verse">Plagues, famine, tyranny, and wars shall rise,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And endless woes shall all succeed!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Let’s search for th’ <span class="smcap">Achans</span> in the camp,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That thus have caus’d our Israel’s woes;</div>
-<div class="verse">&mdash;Yes, kings, and all the bishop-stamp,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I dread, have been the lurking foes!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“For never shall the land have peace,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As good Lord George<a name="FNanchor_10" id="FNanchor_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a>, and David say?</div>
-<div class="verse">Till from our isle we banish these,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And drive such rogues a-cross the sea.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The sable crowd croak’d hoarse applause,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And highly charm’d were with th’ oration,</div>
-<div class="verse">Till one fierce crow their notice draws,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who thus address’d the feather’d nation:&mdash;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Rebels accurs’d!” he frown’d and cried,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“How could you this old traitor hear?</div>
-<div class="verse">Who thus dare kings and priests deride,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whom men should worship and revere.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“I see your doom, ye trait’rous crew!”&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Th’ impatient throng would hear no more;</div>
-<div class="verse">With furious bills they at him flew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And in a moment had him tore&mdash;&mdash;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Had he not clapt his wings and fled,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And taken refuge on th’ Exchange;</div>
-<div class="verse">And from its top he bow’d his head,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And spoke the crowds that round him range:&mdash;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Mortals, attend with reverend awe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Mark well my words, Newcastle people,</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ll do what yet you never saw,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I build my nest upon this steeple.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“From this most happy omen, know</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">What blessings shall to you be given;</div>
-<div class="verse">What peace and choicest gifts shall flow</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From the all-kind, all-bounteous heaven.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“And first of all shall taxes cease,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Provisions fall, and there shall be</div>
-<div class="verse">Rich golden crops, the fruits of peace,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And choicest product of the sea.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Then polish’d manners shall prevail;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">&mdash;Would you believe!&mdash;but you shall see</div>
-<div class="verse">Millers no more your corn shall steal;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And doctors cure without a fee.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Lawyers by strife shall cease to thrive;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And what’s more strange&mdash;aye, is it not?</div>
-<div class="verse">The milk, and every other tythe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Shall all be dropt by <i>Doctor Scott</i>!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Then <i>Windydrum</i> shall cease to sneer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And <i>Shorthorn</i> shall turn wond’rous civil;<a name="FNanchor_11" id="FNanchor_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">And after them you scarce need fear</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To cultivate the very devil!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Another prodigy comes next,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">(When my nest shall be builded here,)</div>
-<div class="verse">Parsons shall live up to their text;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And keelmen then shall dread to swear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Fish-women, too, shall then forget</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To call their neighbours whores and bitches;</div>
-<div class="verse">But what is most surprising yet&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Your Al&mdash;&mdash; shall <span class="smcapuc">ALL</span> be <span class="smcapuc">WITCHES</span>.”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_7" id="Footnote_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> In the year 1783, a pair of crows built their nest upon the vane
-of the Exchange, and continued many years to rear their young.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_8" id="Footnote_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Alluding to the Peace of 1783, after the American War.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_9" id="Footnote_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Alluding to a dreadful earthquake in Italy, which happened shortly
-before the publication of this, by which 270 cities and towns were
-destroyed, and 200,000 people perished.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_10" id="Footnote_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Lord George Gordon, who at this time was very popular.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_11" id="Footnote_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Alluding to two persons in Newcastle, noted for their political
-principles.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><i>The following Song was published in December, 1791
-as from One of the Rooks which then built their Nest
-on the Vane of the Exchange, and addressed to the
-good People of</i> BUR-<i>CASTLE</i>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Rough roll’d the roaring river’s stream,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And rapid ran the rain,</div>
-<div class="verse">When Robert Rutter dreamt a dream,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which rack’d his heart with pain:</div>
-<div class="verse">He dreamt there was a raging bear</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Rush’d from the rugged rocks;</div>
-<div class="verse">And strutting round with horrid stare,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Breath’d terror to the Brocks<a name="FNanchor_12" id="FNanchor_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But Robert Rutter drew his sword,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And rushing forward right,</div>
-<div class="verse">The horrid creature’s thrapple gor’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And barr’d his rueful spite:</div>
-<div class="verse">Then stretching forth his brawny arm,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To drag him to the stream,</div>
-<div class="verse">He grappled grizzle, rough and warm,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which rouz’d him from his dream.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_12" id="Footnote_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Badgers.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>SONS OF THE TYNE.&mdash;1805.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Attend to my summons, ye <i>British</i> Electors,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Tis freedom announces your instant support,</div>
-<div class="verse">No longer your confidence place in Protectors,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who pillage your Rights, and of Laws make a sport;</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Britannia</i> demands your hearts and your hands,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Away to assist her, the cause is divine.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Come, see</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Freedom and Liberty</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Nobly exerting the Sons of the <i>Tyne</i>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">’Twas Liberty gave us our Commerce and Treasure,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She taught us to cultivate Science and Mirth,</div>
-<div class="verse">To patronize Learning and true social pleasure,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To lighten the heart, and give Jollity birth,</div>
-<div class="verse">Come, come <i>Britons</i> all, ’tis Liberty’s call,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Away with all speed to her sacred shrine.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Come, see</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Freedom and Liberty</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Nobly exerting the Sons of the <i>Tyne</i>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With Freedom all Nations we hold in defiance,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Glory of <i>Britain</i> o’er Earth she has hurl’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Monarchs despotic, now court our alliance,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The terror of States, and the pride of the World.</div>
-<div class="verse">Long, long on our Isle, may Liberty smile,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And bless us with <i>Brunswick’s</i> illustrious Line.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Come, see</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Freedom and Liberty</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Nobly exerting the Sons of the <i>Tyne</i>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Be happy ye fair ones whom Freedom has given,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The virtue and spirit her cause to maintain,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose raiment outvies with the mantle of Heaven,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When <i>Phœbus</i> unclouded, just starts from the Main,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">To guard love and beauty, we make it our duty,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To aid their felicity, ever combine;</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Come, see</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Daughters of Liberty,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Greeting with rapture the Sons of the <i>Tyne</i>.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>JESMOND MILL.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By Phill Hodgson, of Newcastle.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To sing some nymph in her cot</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Each bard will oft flourish his quill:</div>
-<div class="verse">I’m glad it has fall’n to my lot</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To celebrate Jesmond Mill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When spring hither winds her career,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our trees and our hedges to fill,</div>
-<div class="verse">Vast oceans of verdure appear</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To charm you at Jesmond Mill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To plant every rural delight</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Mere Nature has lavish’d her skill;</div>
-<div class="verse">Here fragrant soft breezes unite</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To wanton round Jesmond Mill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When silence each evening here dwells,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The birds in their coverts all still;</div>
-<div class="verse">No music in sweetness excels</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The clacking of Jesmond Mill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Reclin’d by the verge of the stream,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or stretch’d on the side of the hill,</div>
-<div class="verse">I’m never in want of a theme</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">While learning at Jesmond Mill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sure Venus some plot has design’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or why is my heart never still,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whenever it pops in my mind</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To wander near Jesmond Mill?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">My object, ye swains, you will guess,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">If ever in love you had skill;</div>
-<div class="verse">And now, I will frankly confess,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Tis&mdash;Jenny of Jesmond Mill.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>PANDON DEAN.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>A Song published in Sept. 1776, under the Name of Rosalinda.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When cooling zephyrs wanton play,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then oft in Pandon Dean I stray;</div>
-<div class="verse">When sore dispers’d with grief and woe,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then from a busy world I go;</div>
-<div class="verse">My mind is calm, my soul serene,</div>
-<div class="verse">Beneath the Bank in Pandon Dean.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The feather’d race around me sing,</div>
-<div class="verse">They make the hills and vallies ring;</div>
-<div class="verse">My sorrow flies, my grief is gone,</div>
-<div class="verse">I warble with the tuneful throng;</div>
-<div class="verse">All, all things wear a pleasing mien,</div>
-<div class="verse">Beneath the Bank in Pandon Dean.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At distance stands an ancient tower,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which ruin threatens every hour;</div>
-<div class="verse">I’m struck with reverence at the sight,</div>
-<div class="verse">I pause and gaze with fond delight;</div>
-<div class="verse">The antique walls do join the scene,</div>
-<div class="verse">And makes more lovely Pandon Dean.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Above me stand the towering trees,</div>
-<div class="verse">While here I feel the gentle breeze;</div>
-<div class="verse">The water flows by chance around,</div>
-<div class="verse">And green enamels all the ground:</div>
-<div class="verse">Which gives new splendour to the scene,</div>
-<div class="verse">And adds a grace to Pandon Dean.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But when I mount the rising hill,</div>
-<div class="verse">And there survey the purling rill,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">My eye delighted&mdash;but I mourn,</div>
-<div class="verse">To think of winter’s quick return;</div>
-<div class="verse">With withering winds and frost so keen,</div>
-<div class="verse">I sighing leave the Pandon Dean.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O spare for once a female pen,</div>
-<div class="verse">And lash licentious wicked men;</div>
-<div class="verse">Your conscious cheek need never glow,</div>
-<div class="verse">If you your talents thus bestow:</div>
-<div class="verse">Scarce fifteen summers have I seen,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet dare to sing of Pandon Dean.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>NANNY OF THE TYNE.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">By <span class="smcap">J.M. Wedderburn</span>, of Newcastle.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Set to Music by John Aldridge, Jun. of Newcastle.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Whilst bards, in strains that sweetly flow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Extol each nymph so fair,</div>
-<div class="verse">Be mine my Nanny’s worth to show&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her captivating air.</div>
-<div class="verse">What swain can gaze without delight</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On beauty there so fine?</div>
-<div class="verse">The Graces all their charms unite</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In Nanny of the Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Far from the noise of giddy courts</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The lovely charmer dwells;</div>
-<div class="verse">Her cot the haunt of harmless sports,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In virtue she excells.</div>
-<div class="verse">With modesty, good nature join’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To form the nymph divine;</div>
-<div class="verse">And truth, with innocence combin’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In Nanny of the Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Flow on, smooth stream, in murmurs sweet</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Glide gently past her cot;</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis peace and virtue’s calm retreat,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ye great ones envied not.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">And you, ye fair, whom folly leads</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Through all her paths supine,</div>
-<div class="verse">Tho’ drest in pleasure’s garb, exceeds</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Not Nanny of the Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Can art to nature e’er compare,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or win us to believe</div>
-<div class="verse">But that the frippery of the fair</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Were made but to deceive.</div>
-<div class="verse">Strip from the belle the dress so gay,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which fashion calls divine,</div>
-<div class="verse">Will she such loveliness display</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As Nanny of the Tyne?</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE BLUE BELL OF GATESHEAD.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By W.B. of Gateshead.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Oh! where, and oh where does your bonny lassie dwell?</div>
-<div class="verse">Oh! where, and oh where does your bonny lassie dwell?</div>
-<div class="verse">She lives in canny Gateshead, at the sign of the Blue Bell:</div>
-<div class="verse">And it’s oh! in my heart, but I love my lassie well.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And what’s best compar’d to the mind of your true love?</div>
-<div class="verse">And what’s best compar’d to the mind of your true love?</div>
-<div class="verse">The meekness of a lamb, and th’ innocence of the dove;</div>
-<div class="verse">These are the true emblems of the mind of her I love.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In what, and in what does your bonny lass excell?</div>
-<div class="verse">In what, and in what does your bonny lass excell?</div>
-<div class="verse">She’s modest as the daisy, sweet as the heather-bell;</div>
-<div class="verse">And it’s oh! in my heart, I love my lassie well.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And what wad ye dee to please the maid you love?</div>
-<div class="verse">And what wad ye dee to please the maid you love?</div>
-<div class="verse">I’d be a saikless wanderer, and through the wide world rov</div>
-<div class="verse">Till death clos’d my eyes&mdash;to please the maid I love.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE NEWCASTLE SIGNS.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Written by Mr <span class="smcap">Cecil Pitt</span>, and sung at the Theatre-Royal,
-Newcastle, by Mr <span class="smcap">Scriven</span>, June 4, 1806.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Should the French in Newcastle but dare to appear,</div>
-<div class="verse">At each sign they would meet with indifferent cheer;</div>
-<div class="verse">From the Goat, and the Hawk, from the Bell, and the Waggon,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Dog they would skip, as St George made the Dragon.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Billet, the Highlander, Cross Keys, and Sun,</div>
-<div class="verse">The Eagle, and Ships too, would shew ’em some fun;</div>
-<div class="verse">The Three Kings and Unicorn, Bull’s Head, and Horse,</div>
-<div class="verse">Would prove that the farther they went they’d fare worse.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At the Black House, a <i>strong-Arm</i> would lay ev’ry man on,</div>
-<div class="verse">And they’d quickly go off, if they got in the Cannon;</div>
-<div class="verse">The Nelson and Turk’s Head their fears would increase,</div>
-<div class="verse">And they’d run from the Swan like a parcel of geese.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At the York, and the Cumberland, Cornwallis too,</div>
-<div class="verse">With our fighting Cocks, sure they’d find plenty to do;</div>
-<div class="verse">The Nag’s Head, and Lions, would cut such an evil,</div>
-<div class="verse">And the Angel would drive the whole crew to the devil.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At the World, and the Fountain, the Bridge, Crown and Thistle,</div>
-<div class="verse">The Bee-Hive and Tuns, for a drop they might whistle;</div>
-<div class="verse">With our Prince, or our Crown, should they dare interpose,</div>
-<div class="verse">They’d prick their French fingers well under the Rose.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At the Half-Moon, the Wheat-Sheaf, and Old Barley-Mow,</div>
-<div class="verse">A sup’s to be got,&mdash;if they could but tell how;</div>
-<div class="verse">If they call’d at the Bull and the Tyger, to ravage,</div>
-<div class="verse">As well as the Black Boy, they’d find ’em quite savage.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At the Ark, and the Anchor, Pack Horse, and Blue Posts,</div>
-<div class="verse">And the Newmarket Inn, they would find but rough hosts;</div>
-<div class="verse">The Old Star and Garter, Cock, Anchor, and more,</div>
-<div class="verse">Would prove like the Grapes, all most cursedly sour.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Lion and Lamb, Plough, and Old Robin Hood,</div>
-<div class="verse">With the Crane House, would check these delighters in blood;</div>
-<div class="verse">From the Butcher’s Arms quick they’d be running away,</div>
-<div class="verse">And we all know that Shakespear would shew ’em some play.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At the White Hart, Three Bull’s Heads, the Old Dog and Duck,</div>
-<div class="verse">If they did not get thrash’d they’d escape by good luck;</div>
-<div class="verse">At the Bird in the Bush, Metter’s Arms, Peacock, they’d fast,</div>
-<div class="verse">And our King’s and Queen’s Heads we’ll defend till the last.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">May the sign of the King ever meet with respect,</div>
-<div class="verse">And our great Constitution each Britain protect;</div>
-<div class="verse">And may he who would humble our old British Crown,</div>
-<div class="verse">Be hung on a Sign-post till I take him down.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE NEWCASTLE BELLMAN.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>As sung by <span class="smcap">Mr Noble</span>, at the Theatre Royal, in 1803.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Talk no more of brave Nelson, or gallant Sir Sidney,</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis granted they’re Tars of a true British kidney;</div>
-<div class="verse">And people are curious, such heroes to see,</div>
-<div class="verse">But neither, are half so much follow’d as Me;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">O when, ding dong, ding dong, my Bell goes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Carts, Barrows, are stopt at the sound;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Each news-loving Porter, straight makes a fill pause,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And wonder-struck, shews the full stretch of his Jaws,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">When sonorous I publish all round.&mdash;&mdash;</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>FIRST CALL.</i></p>
-
-<p>LOST! on Saturday Evening last, between Love Lane
-and the Long Stairs; a <i>Tarrier Dog</i>, entirely White, with
-two Brown Ears and a Black Spot upon his Tail, and answers
-to the Name of <i>Shak’em</i>; the Dog was last seen at the
-Entrance of the Close: and has got an ugly Trick of shaking
-his Right Ear and Tail as he walks;&mdash;is considered to be
-rather deaf, as he does not always answer to the first call&mdash;&mdash;Whosoever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
-will bring him to me shall be handsomely rewarded:
-and any detaining him after this Notice, will be
-prosecuted according to Law.&mdash;&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With Orators sir, e’en senate to grace,</div>
-<div class="verse">What town’s better stock’d, pray, than this canny place,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ah! would you, the flow’r of those Orators see?</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Ecce Homo’s</i> the word,&mdash;you behold him in Me!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">O when ding dong, ding dong, my Bell goes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Shoe-makers with joy catch the sound;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And truly like so many Larks they are found:</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Each swiftly descends from his garret on high;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">When sonorous I publish all round.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>SECOND CALL.</i></p>
-
-<p>STOLEN or Strayed, from a field in Pandon Dean, three
-beautiful <i>smoke colour’d Sheep</i>, marked T.G. justly esteemed
-the most picturesque Ornaments of that celebrated Vale.&mdash;&mdash;The
-Admirers of rural Scenery hereby offer a <i>handsome Reward</i>
-to whoever will bring them back to the Dean, if
-strayed, or give such information as may convict the <i>Mutton-loving
-Rogues</i>, who have stolen them.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Town Marshal proclaims peace, incomp’rably well,</div>
-<div class="verse">Few, at calling a Fair, the Sheriff’s Serjeant excell;</div>
-<div class="verse">But in <i>Pathos</i>, the Critics, <i>mem. con.</i> do agree,</div>
-<div class="verse">The Marshal and Serjeant must both yield to Me;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">O when ding dong, ding dong, my Bell goes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Barbers prick up their ears at the sound;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And heedless how half-shaven customers swear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Come eagerly running my budget to hear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">When sonorous I publish all round.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>THIRD CALL.</i></p>
-
-<p>FOUND, last Winter, near the Turk’s Head Inn, which
-has not since been claimed, <i>a Lady’s Hat and Wig</i>, supposed
-to have been blown off the Head of the fair Owner whilst
-in a state of <i>Indescribability</i>.&mdash;&mdash;Any Lady who can prove
-them to be her Property, may have them again, free of all
-Expence; but if not claimed and identified before the first
-of April next, they will be sold, and the Money given as a
-Donation to the Fever Hospital.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Watchmen, ’tis granted, correctly and clever,</div>
-<div class="verse">Of the hour informs us, and state of the weather;</div>
-<div class="verse">But doubly delightful, their <i>calling</i> would be,</div>
-<div class="verse">Were they all wise enough to take lessons from Me;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">O when ding dong, ding dong, my Bell goes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Each Taylor leaps up at the sound;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Off, to hear me, like roe bucks, they scampering set,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">So delighted, I’m told, that they <i>cabbage</i> forget,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">When sonorous I publish all round.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>FOURTH CALL.</i></p>
-
-<p>To be sold by Auction, J.M. Auctioneer, a large and
-choice Collection of Materials for Sleeping,&mdash;consisting of a
-Quantity of old News; erroneous and clumsy Statements of
-recent events; heavy Critiques on Theatrical Performers and
-Plays <i>not</i> performed; flat Pieces of uninteresting Biography;
-drowsy original Letters; dull Extracts from a northern
-<i>Caput Mortuum</i> of Insipidity; a Number of Puns, Jests, and
-old Anecdotes, warranted free from Attic Salt, chigramatic
-Point, or any other Ingredient capable of rousing Attention
-or exciting Risibility; also, a Quantity of pure Tyne Mercury,
-which possesses the peculiar Property of never rising in
-the Barometer of public Estimation, higher than the Point
-Ennui.&mdash;The Sale to begin every Monday Evening at Eight
-o’Clock, and continue till all be sold.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I’m resolv’d&mdash;may I hope you’ll approve of the measure?&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">A short course of Lectures to give, when I’ve leisure;</div>
-<div class="verse">In order to perfect these Orators’ graces,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who cry Dying Speeches and Lists of the Races:</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">But, hark! ding dong, the Prompter’s Bell goes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">I’m electrified by the sound;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Mr Lindoe,<a name="FNanchor_13" id="FNanchor_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> your summons I haste to obey,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Yet Gratitude bids me one moment delay&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Just to thank my kind Patrons all round.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_13" id="Footnote_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> The then Prompter at the Theatre.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>OXYGEN GAS.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By <span class="smcap">John Shield</span>, of Newcastle, and sung at the Newcastle
-Theatre Royal</i>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">On Rhenish, Medeira, Port, Claret, and Sherry,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Your fulsome eulogiums, bon-vivants, pray spare;</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis granted, when sad, wine can render us merry,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And lighten our bosoms of sorrow and care;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">But what vintage can fire us,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Enrapture, inspire us,</div>
-<div class="verse">As Oxygen? what so delicious to quaff?</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">It is so animating,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And so titillating,</div>
-<div class="verse">E’en grey-beards turn frisky, dance, caper, and laugh,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">For what can so fire us, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O wond’rous indeed is this bev’rage ethereal!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The mortal who quaffs it, altho’ a mere clod,</div>
-<div class="verse">Is straightway transformed to a being ærial,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And moves on earth’s surface in fancy a God.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">In a bumper is given</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">A foretaste of Heaven,</div>
-<div class="verse">All earthly vexation straight cease to annoy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Whilst laughing and crying,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And efforts at flying,</div>
-<div class="verse">Bespeak the soul tost in a tempest of joy.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">For what can so fire us, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Haste, haste to partake on’t, ye men of grave faces,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ye Quakers, and Methodist parsons likewise;</div>
-<div class="verse">What tho’ ye seem lost to the flexible graces,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And dormant the risible faculty lies;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">One quaff of the vapour</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Will cause you to caper,</div>
-<div class="verse">And swiftly relax your stiff solemniz’d jaws;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">You’ll acknowledge the change too,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">As pleasing as strange too,</div>
-<div class="verse">And make the air ring with loud ha! ha! ha! ha’s!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">For what can so fire us, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Let gin, rum, and brandy grow dearer and dearer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Distillers stop working&mdash;no toper will mourn;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Of Gas we can make a delectable cheerer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which, nor reddens our noses, nor livers will burn;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Unbeholden to whisky</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">We’ll drink and get frisky,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor fear that to-morrow our temples may ache;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Neither stomach commotions,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Nor camomile potions,</div>
-<div class="verse">Shall evermore cause us with terror to quake;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">For what can so fire us, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Let the miser’s deep coffers be fill’d to his mind now,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Let the man of ambition with honours abound,</div>
-<div class="verse">Give the lover his mistress, complying and kind too,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And with laurel let Poets and Heroes be crown’d.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Let all be blest round me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">No envy shall wound me,</div>
-<div class="verse">Contented and cheerful thro’ life will I pass,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">If fortune befriends me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And constantly sends me</div>
-<div class="verse">A <i>quantum sufficit</i> of Oxygen Gas.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">For what can so fire us, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE BARDS OF THE TYNE.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Published in the Tyne Mercury Newspaper, under the Signature of C.P.</i> (Charles Purvis.)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>&mdash;Newcastle Beer.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ye sons of Parnassus, whose brains are inspir’d</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With envy or madness, dame dullness, or wine,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who wish to be flatter’d, or prais’d, or admir’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Leave thinking, and fly to the banks of the Tyne:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">No wit is requir’d</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">To make you admir’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Let doggrel run limping thro’ each crippled line;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">No humour degrades,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Nor genius pervades</div>
-<div class="verse">The verses sublime of our Bards of the Tyne.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No soft flowing numbers must ravish the senses,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whose soothing meanders a ditty would stain</div>
-<div class="verse">A muse with such drowsy materials dispenses,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whilst Grub-street’s quintessence will squeese from the brain:</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">How sweetly the strains</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Must thrill thro’ the veins,</div>
-<div class="verse">When Sandgate and Bedlam together combine;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Or “Oxygen Gas,”</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">From the pipe of an ass,</div>
-<div class="verse">Rarifies the dence brains of our Bards of the Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With rhymers our Theatre’s always surrounded,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whose Bellman taught lays set the house in a roar:</div>
-<div class="verse">Common sense stands aghast, thunder-struck and confounded,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">While Dullness brays out from its Gall’ry, <i>Encore!</i></div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Then, big with applause,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Crack’s Scotch ell of jaws<a name="FNanchor_14" id="FNanchor_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">Sets forth a hoarse bawling, so purely divine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">That hydras or bears</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Might prick up their ears,</div>
-<div class="verse">And howl out in concert with Bards of the Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_14" id="Footnote_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Alluding to the character of Crack, in the farce of the Turnpike
-Gate, where Mr Noble performed with true spirit.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>AN ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By <span class="smcap">James Stawpert</span></i>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Who’s he that with great <i>Mercury</i> strides,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">In imitation’s line,</div>
-<div class="verse">And, without reason, thus derides</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">The poets of the Tyne?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Who, not content with critic’s skill,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">That lets no error pass;</div>
-<div class="verse">In passion’s cup he dips his quill,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And calls his brother&mdash;ass.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I tell thee, Satirist, forbear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">For asses have a trick,</div>
-<div class="verse">And, if provok’d, ’tis very rare</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">They’re not inclin’d to kick.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now should great Fate ordain it so,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">That this poor docile beast,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whom thou hast term’d so very low,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">E’en lowest of the least:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I say, should ancient Baalam’s steed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">(For so thou nam’st the man)</div>
-<div class="verse">Tell thee in time to take good heed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Thy manners rough to scan;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Or if, like thee, he write with ire,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And ask in angry strains,</div>
-<div class="verse">What set thy sleepy muse on fire,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Or rous’d thy muddy brains?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Nay further, should he analize</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">The words “Oxygen Gas,”</div>
-<div class="verse">He might make thee a monst’rous size,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">E’en, larger than an ass!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The thought will no great time afford,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Nor needs much Orthodox,</div>
-<div class="verse">For, take four letters from the word,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">It makes thee out an OX.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I think the appellation suits,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Yet this believe from me,</div>
-<div class="verse">Had thou not been so fond of brutes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">I’d not made one of thee.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Adieu then, ancient Egypt’s god,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Or shall I call thee bull?</div>
-<div class="verse">When next thou handles Satyr’s rod,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Pray write thy name in full.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For two initials, such as thine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Might make dame dullness pause,</div>
-<div class="verse">And simple poets of the Tyne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Find terms in Nature’s laws.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">By adding <i>letters</i> to the two</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Which thou hast late put down;</div>
-<div class="verse">No, faith, I have not time just now,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And <i>Modesty</i> might frown.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE RAREE SHOW MAN.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>An Election Song.</i>&mdash;(20th September, 1780.)</p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>The following Verses, at an Election Song, being rather contrary
-to the general Arrangement of this Work, but possessing Novelty, must plead for its Insertion.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Allons, sweet childs, of smooth complexion,</div>
-<div class="verse">Come see de grande, de rare election,</div>
-<div class="verse">Me show de hole in much perfection.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No congstable on me doth frownee,</div>
-<div class="verse">In dis Newcastel famous townee,</div>
-<div class="verse">Vare some veare breaches, some de gounee.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But den before dat I do callee,</div>
-<div class="verse">You give me sixpence, price is smallee;</div>
-<div class="verse">And den I’ll nothing ask at allee.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In fronte, you see de agents coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">Vast great, much consequence assuming,</div>
-<div class="verse">Far, farther far, than is becoming.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">See dere de vulgar <i>scum</i> begin it,</div>
-<div class="verse">Den next de Sylock <i>bankiers</i> pin it;</div>
-<div class="verse">Ah dere!&mdash;de devil’s selfe is in it.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O wonderful! how dey do tumble,</div>
-<div class="verse">Just like de Jack of cards dey tumble,</div>
-<div class="verse">De kings, with knaves and duces humble.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Dare de parson, lawyer, scrambles,</div>
-<div class="verse">Dare physic doctors in de shambles,</div>
-<div class="verse">Vere some do make de long preambles!</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">See all de shop-folks gaping, staring,</div>
-<div class="verse">Few understanding, fewer caring,</div>
-<div class="verse">Vether perjury be swearing!</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Oh bless us! how you slaves are roaring,</div>
-<div class="verse">Deir cunning patrons stagger snoring,</div>
-<div class="verse">Inclined pocket trusting more in.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Next you do see, from street of tripee,</div>
-<div class="verse">De Goatside boys, for huzza ripee;</div>
-<div class="verse">Vith all de lads dat make de pipee.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And next you do behold, so stirring,</div>
-<div class="verse">Like horned cattle in de murrain,</div>
-<div class="verse">Dose jolly blades dat speak so burring.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Dese be good freemen, as dey’re called;</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis not for nothing dey have bauled;</div>
-<div class="verse">Huzza! till to de poll dey’re hauled!</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Stand fast&mdash;have care&mdash;see from de denny,</div>
-<div class="verse">Come, elbow forth, de gentlemeny,</div>
-<div class="verse">Vith all de brains&mdash;if dey have any.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now den, now den, de bright candidates,</div>
-<div class="verse">Up top hustings, hope and fear deir fates:</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilst all de congstables surround de gates.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ay now de mountain be in labour;</div>
-<div class="verse">Blo, blo de fifee, sound de tabre;</div>
-<div class="verse">Flash, flash de brade sword and de sabre.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For <i>toute le Monde</i> vill see, no doubtee,</div>
-<div class="verse">Dat someting, noting, vill come outee,</div>
-<div class="verse">To make de people glore aboutee.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If dat brave Monsieur <i>Bowes</i><a name="FNanchor_15" id="FNanchor_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> be chosen,</div>
-<div class="verse">De legs vill dance by score, by dozen,</div>
-<div class="verse">And all de grande vill call him couzen.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Den come again, sweet childs, to-morrow,</div>
-<div class="verse">Me show you ten hundred joy&mdash;no sorrow;</div>
-<div class="verse">But bring de sixpence, if you borrow.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Doodle, doodle, doo.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_15" id="Footnote_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> Andrew Robinson Bowes, who gained his election, (1780)
-though unsuccessful in the contest on the death of Sir Walter Blackett
-in 1777. This person came to Newcastle as ensign in the 30th
-regiment of foot, quartered in that town; shortly after he married the
-only daughter of William Newton, Esq. a lady of fortune; after her
-death he married (1777) the Countess of Strathmore, from whom he
-was divorced for cruelty, in 1785. He served the office of Sheriff of
-Northumberland, 1780; and died in the King’s Bench, 16th January,
-1810.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>BARBER’s NEWS:<br />
-OR,<br />
-<i>Shields in an Uproar!!!</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center">A New Song.</p>
-
-<p class="center">Tune&mdash;“<i>O the golden Days of good Queen Bess.</i>”</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Great was the consternation, amazement, and dismay, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which, both in <i>North</i> and <i>South Shields</i>, prevail’d the other day, Sir;</div>
-<div class="verse">Quite panic-struck the natives were, when told by the barber,</div>
-<div class="verse">That a terrible <i>Sea Monster</i> had got into the harbour.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">“Have you heard the news Sir?” What news, pray master barber?</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">“Oh a terrible <i>sea monster</i> has got into the harbour!”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now each honest man in <i>Shields</i>&mdash;I mean both North and South, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">Delighting in occasions to expand their eyes and mouth, Sir:</div>
-<div class="verse">And fond of seeing marv’lous sights, ne’er stay’d to get his beard off;</div>
-<div class="verse">But ran to view the monster, its arrival, when he heard of.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Oh! who could think of shaving when inform’d by the barber,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">That a terrible <i>Sea Monster</i> had got into the harbour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Each wife pursu’d her husband, and every child its mother,</div>
-<div class="verse">Lads and lasses <i>helter skelter</i>, scamper’d after one another;</div>
-<div class="verse">Shopkeepers and mechanics too, forsook their daily labours,</div>
-<div class="verse">And ran to gape and stare among their gaping staring neighbours.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">All crowded to the river side, when told by the barber,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">That a terrible <i>Sea Monster</i> had got into the harbour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">It happens very frequently that <i>barber’s news</i> is <i>fiction</i>, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">But the wond’rous news this morning was truth no contradiction, Sir;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">A something sure enough was there among the billows flouncing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Now sinking in the deep profound, now on th’ surface bouncing.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">True as Gazette or Gospel were the tidings of the barber,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">That a terrible <i>Sea Monster</i> had got into the harbour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Some thought it was a <i>Shark</i>, Sir, a <i>Porpus</i> some conceived it;</div>
-<div class="verse">Some said it was a <i>Grampus</i>, and some a <i>Whale</i> believ’d it;</div>
-<div class="verse">Some swore it was a <i>Sea Horse</i>, then own’d themselves mistaken,</div>
-<div class="verse">For, now they’d got a nearer view&mdash;’twas certainly <i>a Kraken</i>.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Each sported his opinion, from the parson to the barber,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Of the terrible <i>Sea Monster</i> they had got in the harbour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Belay, belay,” a sailor cried, “<i>what that, this thing</i>, a <i>Kraken</i>!</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis no more like one, split my jib, than it is a flitch of bacon!</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ve often seen a hundred such, all sporting in the Nile, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">And you may trust a sailor’s word, it is a <i>Crocodile</i>, Sir.”</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Each strait to Jack <i>knocks under</i>, from the parson to the barber,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And all agreed a <i>Crocodile</i> had got into the harbour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yet greatly Jack’s discovery his auditors did shock, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">For they dreaded that the <i>Salmon</i> would be eat up by the Croc. Sir:</div>
-<div class="verse">When presently the <i>Crocodile</i>, their consternation crowning,</div>
-<div class="verse">Raised its head above the waves, and cried, “<i>Help! O Lord, I’m drowning!</i>”</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heavens! how their hair, Sir, stood on end, from the parson to the barber;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">To find a <i>Speaking Crocodile</i> had got into the harbour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This dreadful exclamation appall’d both young and old, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">In the very stoutest hearts, indeed, it made the blood run cold, Sir;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Ev’n <i>Jack</i>, the hero of the Nile, it caus’d to quake and tremble,</div>
-<div class="verse">Until an old wife, sighing, cried “<i>Alas! ’tis Stephen K&mdash;&mdash;.</i>”</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heav’ns! however all astonish’d, from the parson to the barber,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">To find that Stephen K&mdash;&mdash; was the monster in the harbour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Strait crocodilish fears gave place to manly gen’rous strife, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">Most willingly each lent a hand to save poor Stephen’s life, Sir;</div>
-<div class="verse">They drag’d him gasping to the shore, impatient for his history,</div>
-<div class="verse">For how he came in that sad plight, to them was quite a mystery.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Tears glisten’d, Sir, in every eye, from the parson to the barber,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">When, swoln to thrice his natural <i>size</i>, they drag’d him from the harbour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now having roll’d and rubb’d him well an hour upon the beach, Sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">He got upon his legs again, and made a serious speech, Sir;</div>
-<div class="verse">Quoth he, “An ancient proverb says, and true it will be found, Sirs,</div>
-<div class="verse">Those born to prove an <i>airy doom</i>, will surely never be drown’d, Sirs.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">For fate, Sirs, has us all in tow, from the monarch to the barber;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Or surely I had breathed my last this morning in the harbour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Resolv’d to cross the <i>River</i>, Sirs, a Sculler did I get into,</div>
-<div class="verse">May Jonah’s ill-luck be mine, another when I step into!</div>
-<div class="verse">Just when we’d reach’d the deepest part, O horror! there it founders,</div>
-<div class="verse">And down went poor Pillgarlick amongst the Crabs and Flounders!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">But fate, that keeps us all in tow, from the monarch to the barber,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Ordain’d I should not breathe my last, this morning in the harbour.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I’ve broke down many a stage coach, and many a chaise and gig, Sirs,</div>
-<div class="verse">Once, in passing through a trap-hole, I found myself too big, Sirs,</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ve been circumstanc’d most oddly, whilst contesting hard a race, Sirs,</div>
-<div class="verse">But ne’er was half so frighten’d, as amongst the Crabs and Plaise, Sirs.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">O fate, Sirs, keeps us all in tow, from the monarch to the barber,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Or certainly I’d breath’d my last, this morning in the harbour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">My friends, for your exertions, my heart o’erflows with gratitude,</div>
-<div class="verse">O may it prove the last time, you find me in that latitude;</div>
-<div class="verse">God knows with what mischances dire, the future may abound, Sirs,</div>
-<div class="verse">But I hope and trust I’m one of those, not fated to be drown’d, Sirs.”</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Thus ended his oration, Sir, I had it from the barber;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And dripping, like some <i>River God</i>, he slowly left the harbour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ye men of <i>North</i> and <i>South Shields</i> too, God send ye all prosperity,</div>
-<div class="verse">May your commerce ever flourish, your stately ships still crowd the sea;</div>
-<div class="verse">Unrivall’d in the Coal Trade, till doomsday may you stand, Sirs,</div>
-<div class="verse">And every hour, fresh wonders, your eyes and mouths expand, Sirs.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And long may <i>Stephen K&mdash;&mdash;</i> live, and never may the barber</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Mistake him for a monster more, deep floundering in the harbour.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>SONG,</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>On the Flight of the young Crows, from Newcastle Exchange;
-with their Address to the Corporation.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">The young brood fairly fledg’d, we may fairly suppose,</div>
-<div class="verse">Half the world must have heard of our Newcastle <span class="smcapuc">CROWS</span>?</div>
-<div class="verse">How their <i>daddy</i>, bold bird! from a rabble got free,</div>
-<div class="verse">And was fully determin’d a freeman to be!</div>
-<div class="verse">On the <i>vane</i> of the steeple, upon the Exchange,</div>
-<div class="verse">Completed his nest, which beholders thought strange:</div>
-<div class="verse">His bright jetty <i>consort</i> accomplish’d her part,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor foes, nor foul weather could alter her heart.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Their younglings, quite able to take distant flight,</div>
-<div class="verse">Were told, by their parents, “<i>Good manners are right</i>.”</div>
-<div class="verse">To their freedom admitted&mdash;they could do no less,</div>
-<div class="verse">Than approach their kind patrons, with humble <span class="smcapuc">ADDRESS</span>;</div>
-<div class="verse">To thank them politely, without wanton joke,</div>
-<div class="verse">For, so learned in <i>swallow</i>, they must learn to <i>croak</i>.&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">In a trice&mdash;&mdash;as if <span class="smcap">Æsop</span> himself had inspir’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">They began their address, whilst their hearers admir’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">“Ye wise men, and good men, of <span class="smcap">Newcastle guild</span>,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who suffer’d our father and mother to build&mdash;&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">High, upon the high pinnacle of your Exchange,</div>
-<div class="verse">And here see their offspring just ready to range;</div>
-<div class="verse">To range with sweet freedom, o’er land, and o’er seas,</div>
-<div class="verse">To eat and to drink, and to <i>croak</i> as we please&mdash;&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Accept our plain thanks, while the reasons we clear,</div>
-<div class="verse">Why some <i>Merlin</i>, or <i>Shipton</i>, hath sure sent us here.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">“One thousand seven hundred, eighty and three,</div>
-<div class="verse">For this town, a remarkable æra will be!</div>
-<div class="verse">All folks will <i>think</i> right, from grave age to smart youth,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor priests, nor disciples, <i>e’er</i> wander from <span class="smcapuc">TRUTH</span>;</div>
-<div class="verse">Your rulers be loyal to great George the third,</div>
-<div class="verse">Each rich man prove honest, and <i>just</i> to his word:</div>
-<div class="verse">No <i>fair-trading</i> merchant will <i>smuggle</i>, or cheat,</div>
-<div class="verse">No foul gorging glutton <i>waste</i> poor people’s meat.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Your fine Sandhill <i>maidens</i> be merry and wise,</div>
-<div class="verse">From their <i>crying</i> of lemons, to <i>selling</i> of pies;</div>
-<div class="verse">Your green, and rare fish-women, civil enough,</div>
-<div class="verse">Your milliners spruce, not so apt to take huff.</div>
-<div class="verse">Up the <span class="smcap">Side</span>, you’ll hear compliments, happy and free,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where hot <i>puddings</i>, and <i>haggishes</i>, plenty shall be:</div>
-<div class="verse">The silver-smiths, coopers, and tinmen will join</div>
-<div class="verse">To sound the <i>reforms</i> now produc’d on the <span class="smcap">Tyne</span>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Your Sandgate smart girls, the gay world will surprise,</div>
-<div class="verse">Grown <i>cleanly</i>, and decent, and <i>modest</i>, and wise;</div>
-<div class="verse">The keelmen, in <i>manners</i>, become quite polite,</div>
-<div class="verse">No <i>cursing</i> at morn, nor <i>much</i> drunk over night!</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Refining</i> in language, <i>improving</i> in notes,</div>
-<div class="verse">Letter <i>R</i> run far smoother, and <i>glib</i> through their throats:</div>
-<div class="verse">Their Andrews, these sirnames, bear better degrees,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ralphs, Richardsons, Rogersons, uttered with ease.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“No tailor will <i>cabbage</i>, no draper will <i>pinch</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse">No shoemaker <i>squeeze</i> a full nail from an inch;</div>
-<div class="verse">No baker, or flourman, be short of his weight,</div>
-<div class="verse">No forestaller <i>breed</i> low designs in his pate;</div>
-<div class="verse">No butcher, on <i>Bank</i>, keep prices too high,</div>
-<div class="verse">No hatter, no baker, deceive with a <i>lie</i>!&mdash;&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">But what will stand foremost in public parade,</div>
-<div class="verse">Newcastle shall furnish a <i>cheaper</i> <span class="smcapuc">COAL TRADE</span>!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“In <i>politics</i>, surely, such changes will be,</div>
-<div class="verse">The people and magistrates <i>mutual</i> agree;</div>
-<div class="verse">No bribery, no menace, no little whit self,</div>
-<div class="verse">No pride overbearing, or <i>impudent</i> wealth;</div>
-<div class="verse">But each <i>voter</i> prove honest to <span class="smcap">old England’s</span> laws,</div>
-<div class="verse">Still prudently guarding fair liberty’s cause!</div>
-<div class="verse">And so, brother freemen, God bless ye, <i>adieu!</i></div>
-<div class="verse">We fly to sage <span class="smcap">Franklin</span>, and <span class="smcap">Washington</span> now.”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>A RARE CURIOSITY:<br />
-OR,<br />
-<i>CROW’S NEST IN GATESHEAD</i>.<br />
-A NEW SONG.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">As Neddy and Betty were walking along,</div>
-<div class="verse">Each cheerfully joining in dialogue song;</div>
-<div class="verse">I met them, delighted on Gateshead green hill,</div>
-<div class="verse">While Betty’s sweet voice charm’d all lads round each mill.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center"><i>BETTY.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Indeed, honest Neddy! the news is quite true,</div>
-<div class="verse">Th’ Sandhill, no longer crow nests we can view;</div>
-<div class="verse">The downfalling Steeple, and coming down Change,</div>
-<div class="verse">Oblig’d feather’d builders at distance to range.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center"><i>NEDDY.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Does not my fair Betty know perfectly well,</div>
-<div class="verse">No birds in prognostics black crows can excell?</div>
-<div class="verse">No sooner their nests on the Sandhill were shewn,</div>
-<div class="verse">Than public improvements came rapidly on.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center"><i>BETTY.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O yes I remember, from <i>Close</i> when they flew,</div>
-<div class="verse">What crowds of spectators their nests came to view;</div>
-<div class="verse">When pitched so nicely on top of the vane,</div>
-<div class="verse">As signals, where Justice and Commerce did reign.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center"><i>NEDDY.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">It is very true, my dear charmer, indeed,</div>
-<div class="verse">Spectators beheld vast improvements succeed;</div>
-<div class="verse">A beautiful Square, named Charlotte the Queen,</div>
-<div class="verse">New streets, and Assembly Rooms elegant seen.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center"><i>BETTY.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O yes, and a Theatre, royal and fine,</div>
-<div class="verse">Erected, no doubt, for some noble design;</div>
-<div class="verse">To shew thoughtless mortals of ev’ry degree,</div>
-<div class="verse">How defaulting they are, how good they should be.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center"><i>NEDDY.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">From thence, if reflection keeps soberly on,</div>
-<div class="verse">We’ve the <i>Free Mason Lodge</i>, in the style of St John;<a name="FNanchor_16" id="FNanchor_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">Where true wit and humour with charity meet,</div>
-<div class="verse">And souls are united in union complete.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center"><i>BETTY.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I’m calling to mind, what a gipsy once told,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who came in the crowd the <i>crow’s nest</i> to behold;</div>
-<div class="verse">“These crows are wise creatures&mdash;Trade here will improve,</div>
-<div class="verse">As sure as the winds can that weather-cock move!”</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center"><i>NEDDY.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then Gateshead is lucky, I vow and declare,</div>
-<div class="verse">Behold, my dear Betty! where now the crows are;</div>
-<div class="verse">Near Battle Bank foot, their snug nests you may find,</div>
-<div class="verse">Upon those new chimnies, set free to the wind.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center"><i>BETTY.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O wonderful! Neddy, I see them so plain,</div>
-<div class="verse">Quite opposite now to their former gilt vane;</div>
-<div class="verse">The <i>Stamp Office</i> chosen, they mean to proceed,</div>
-<div class="verse">The good folk of Gateshead are lucky indeed.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center"><i>NEDDY.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then let me, dear Betty, meet better luck still,</div>
-<div class="verse">Come, give me thy heart and thy hand with good will;</div>
-<div class="verse">You know I am honest, my vows are sincere,</div>
-<div class="verse">From all the deceits of vile rascals quite clear.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center"><i>BETTY.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So many false villains but court to deceive,</div>
-<div class="verse">We virgins in prudence should slowly believe;</div>
-<div class="verse">If they can but the punishing laws once escape,</div>
-<div class="verse">They fear not the devil, his torments, or shape.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center"><i>NEDDY.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">May all worthy millers grind such rascals down,</div>
-<div class="verse">Till neither their dust nor their ashes are known;</div>
-<div class="verse">Here’s my hand, dearest Bett! for life let us join,</div>
-<div class="verse">Consent&mdash;and to morrow my <i>all</i> shall be thine.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center"><i>BETTY.</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Dear Ned! I believe, and to-morrow shall see,</div>
-<div class="verse">How blessing and blest honest lovers can be;</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>The crow’s nest in Gateshead</i> full witness may prove,</div>
-<div class="verse">That none but vile <i>fools</i> are deceitful in love.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, down, hey derry down.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_16" id="Footnote_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> St John’s Lodge, No. 184, Free Masons’ Hall, Low Friar Street,
-Newcastle, dedicated October 18th, 1777, was some years after disused
-and converted into the Dispensary.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE FRENCH INVASION.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Published May 10th, 1794.</i></p>
-
-<p>Some wags, taking advantage of the alarm of invasion in March,
-1794, sent two letters, with the counterfeit signatures of two magistrates
-in Northumberland, to the Mayor of Newcastle, stating, that a party
-of French had landed on the coast, near Bambrough; this occasioned
-some bustle in Newcastle; 270l. reward was afterward offered in vain
-for the discovery of the writers.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Now fill a bumper to the brim,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“And drink to <i>Gotham’s mayor</i>;</div>
-<div class="verse">“And when again he hears such news,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“May <i>Fa&mdash;&mdash;berg</i> be there.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thus lately in a loyal song,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sung some right loyal bard;</div>
-<div class="verse">And righteous too, no doubt was he,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For lo! his prayer was heard.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">News, direful news from <span class="smcap">Bambro</span>’ came,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The <i>French</i> were landed there;</div>
-<div class="verse">A letter, written with all speed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was sent to <i>Gotham’s mayor</i>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“The crews of three French ships of war,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Have landed in our coast,</div>
-<div class="verse">Send for <i>Lord F&mdash;&mdash;berg</i>,” quoth he,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Or we shall all be lost.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Our bullocks they have ta’en away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our cows and sheep besides.”</div>
-<div class="verse">“O woe betide them,” says our <i>mayor</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“They’ll raise the <i>price</i> of <span class="smcapuc">HIDES</span>.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Fear not, fear not,” says <i>F&mdash;&mdash;berg</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who now before him stood,</div>
-<div class="verse">“To guard you I will spend my last,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Last drop of noble blood!”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">On this our <i>mayor</i> began to hold</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Erect his drooping head;</div>
-<div class="verse">“I will not,” quoth <i>Lord F&mdash;&mdash;berg</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“This night lay down my head.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“To guard-house I will hie with speed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And watch ’till morn appear;</div>
-<div class="verse">Each <i>Gothamite</i> may soundly sleep,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">No cause have they to fear.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Meantime” says <i>Gotham’s mayor</i>, “I will</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In haste, a letter write</div>
-<div class="verse">To George our king, some ships to send,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To intercept their flight.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To <i>George</i> our king the tidings came,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At London where he lay;</div>
-<div class="verse">“What! cattle, cattle, sheep indeed!&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Windsor haste away;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Lock up my pretty little sheep,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My pigs and geese likewise;</div>
-<div class="verse">No bloody Frenchman shall destroy</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">What I so dearly prize.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Then run tell <i>Billy Pitt</i> to come,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And bring his <i>brother</i> here;</div>
-<div class="verse">But first call <i>Tom</i> the butler up,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To get me some small beer.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“How happens <i>Chat&mdash;m</i>, that no ships</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">You have sent to the North?</div>
-<div class="verse">Not one, I’m told, is to be seen</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From Thames unto the Forth.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“So please you,” bowing low, says <i>John</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“I would have sent a few,</div>
-<div class="verse">But that I thought you’d want them here</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Against the next <span class="smcapuc">REVIEW</span>.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“That’s right, that’s right,” reply’d our king,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“One ship I cannot spare:</div>
-<div class="verse">And if the <i>French</i> do get their sheep,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Why&mdash;<i>let them take more care</i>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Example let them take by me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And they’ll receive no harm;</div>
-<div class="verse">Shut them all up as I have done,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Upon my Windsor farm.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So spake our gracious lord,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And so I end my song;</div>
-<div class="verse">May heaven from <i>rots</i> preserve his sheep,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And may his life be long!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>BLYTH CAMPS: <i>Or, the Girl I left behind Me.</i></h2>
-
-<p>In 1795, near Blyth there was an encampment, the troops of
-which, consisting of 13 regiments of horse and foot, were reviewed on
-the 28th of August, that year, by the Duke of York, in the presence
-of upwards of 60,000 spectators.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I’m lonesome since I left <span class="smcapuc">BLYTH</span> camps,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And o’er the moor that’s sedgy;</div>
-<div class="verse">With heavy thoughts my mind is fill’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Since I parted with my Betsy:</div>
-<div class="verse">Whene’er I turn to view the place,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The tears fall down and blind me;</div>
-<div class="verse">When I think on the charming grace</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of her I left behind me.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The hours I remember well,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When first from her they mov’d me;</div>
-<div class="verse">The burning flames my heart doth tell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Since first she own’d she lov’d me:</div>
-<div class="verse">In search of some one fair and gay,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Several doth remind me;</div>
-<div class="verse">I know my darling loves me well,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Tho’ I left her behind me.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The bees shall cease to make a store,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The dove become a ranger:</div>
-<div class="verse">The falling waters cease to roar,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Before I’ll ever change her.</div>
-<div class="verse">Each mutual promise faithful made,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By her whom tears remind me;</div>
-<div class="verse">I bless the hours I pass’d away</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With her I left behind me.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">My mind her image will retain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whether asleep or waking;</div>
-<div class="verse">I hope to see my love again,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For her my heart is breaking.</div>
-<div class="verse">If e’er I chance to go that way,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And she has not resign’d me;</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ll reconcile my mind and stay</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With her I left behind me.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>BEAUMONT’s LIGHT HORSE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We march’d from the camps with our hearts full of woe,</div>
-<div class="verse">On board of the transports we forc’d were to go;</div>
-<div class="verse">No drums they did beat, nor no trumpets did sound,</div>
-<div class="verse">In silence and sadness we trudg’d o’er the ground.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No more on our horses we’ll prance o’er the plain,</div>
-<div class="verse">For they drive us away like sheep to be slain;</div>
-<div class="verse">Our friends and acquaintance we leave on the shore,</div>
-<div class="verse">And we’ll never be seen in Old England more.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When arm’d, on our horses away we did ride,</div>
-<div class="verse">All ran to see Beaumont’s Light Horsemen parade;</div>
-<div class="verse">But all these fine times are with us now all o’er,</div>
-<div class="verse">For we shall return to Old England no more.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We listed for horsemen, our country to save,</div>
-<div class="verse">They told us fine stories of Beaumont the brave;</div>
-<div class="verse">But now he has sold us to add to his store,</div>
-<div class="verse">And transported from England to come back no more.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We mounted our horses and rode through the town,</div>
-<div class="verse">We hid us in holes, and our guns we laid down;</div>
-<div class="verse">Now see the Newcastle folks drive away fears,</div>
-<div class="verse">And now see the brav’ry of their Volunteers.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">God save our noble king, and long may he reign,</div>
-<div class="verse">And send him brave soldiers, his rights to maintain;</div>
-<div class="verse">But do not deceive them, keep them on your shore,</div>
-<div class="verse">That they may defend you ’till time is no more.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Farewell to all camps, and farewell to all towns,</div>
-<div class="verse">We go off all footmen, no more like dragoons;</div>
-<div class="verse">For hard is our fate, and it grieves us full sore,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then farewell, dear England, we’ll see thee no more.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Farewell to our wives, and our sweethearts likewise;</div>
-<div class="verse">Tho’ we’re driven to battle yet we’ll bullets despise;</div>
-<div class="verse">And if its our fortune to return once again,</div>
-<div class="verse">We’ll bring store of riches, and bid adieu to the main.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><i>A Song in Praise of the</i><br />
-KEELMEN VOLUNTEERS. On board the Lapwing Frigate.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>&mdash;White Cockade.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Come fill a bumper to the brim,</div>
-<div class="verse">And drink success to George our king;</div>
-<div class="verse">Of France and Spain let’s not be fear’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Since our Keel Lads have volunteer’d</div>
-<div class="verse">To meet the proud and daring foe,</div>
-<div class="verse">And let the haughty Frenchmen know,</div>
-<div class="verse">That our Keel Lads are brave and free,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Neptune’s favourites will be.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Zephyr, blow your gentle gales,</div>
-<div class="verse">And fill our Keel Lads’ shiv’ring sails,</div>
-<div class="verse">And waft them o’er the raging sea;</div>
-<div class="verse">For our defenders they will be:</div>
-<div class="verse">Lo! Duncan of the Texel boasts,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nelson them in the Nile did toast;</div>
-<div class="verse">The British flag they’re sure to sway,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Frenchmen take to Norway.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">With spirits heroic and sublime,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our lads are brought up on the Tyne;</div>
-<div class="verse">They will our foes with sorrow fill,</div>
-<div class="verse">When once they sail from Newcastle:</div>
-<div class="verse">Where bullets fly and cannons roar,</div>
-<div class="verse">They’ll sweep the seas from shore to shore;</div>
-<div class="verse">And all the world their wonders tell:</div>
-<div class="verse">Huzza, Keel Lads of Newcastle!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE SONS OF THE TYNE:<br />
-OR,<br />
-<i>British Volunteers</i>.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>&mdash;Hearts of Oak.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Come cheer up your hearts, my brave sons of the Tyne,</div>
-<div class="verse">And boldly come forward to enter the line;</div>
-<div class="verse">Your country it calls you, defend now her right,</div>
-<div class="verse">Against that invader, who dares you to fight.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sons of Tyne all advance,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">For to humble proud France;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And teach Bonaparte,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Tho’ ever so hearty,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Not t’ insult British valour upon her own shore.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">The proud sons of Spain, too, like fools did attempt,</div>
-<div class="verse">With a large Armada to make a descent;</div>
-<div class="verse">But lord Howard convinc’d them, long ere they came near,</div>
-<div class="verse">That they were not to take the wrong sow by the ear!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sons of Tyne, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">There was bold Sidney Smith, on the Palestine shore,</div>
-<div class="verse">Made the <i>army invincible</i> lie all in gore;</div>
-<div class="verse">When caught in his Mouse Trap<a name="FNanchor_17" id="FNanchor_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> at <i>Acre de John</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse">Bonaparte (then Musselman) made a sad moan.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sons of Tyne, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">The brave Abercromby shed his last drop of blood,</div>
-<div class="verse">At Alexandria, for his country’s good:</div>
-<div class="verse">And shall <i>Corsican Tyranny</i> ever come near</div>
-<div class="verse">To Britannia’s shores?&mdash;No! we’ll all volunteer.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sons of Tyne, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">He threats to invade us, and plunder us too,</div>
-<div class="verse">And make us a <i>province</i>! but that will not do.</div>
-<div class="verse">If he come, we will shew him a handful of men,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who will take him in Trap, like Sir Sidney again.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sons of Tyne, &amp;c.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Bonaparte’s bravadoes we’ll treat with disdain,</div>
-<div class="verse">Like the heroes of Britain, who rule on the main;</div>
-<div class="verse">We will boldly stand forward in Britannia’s cause,</div>
-<div class="verse">To protect her religion, her liberty and laws.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sons of Tyne, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_17" id="Footnote_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> The seamen call the breach made in the walls at St John de Acre,
-while Bonaparte was in Egypt, the <i>Commodore’s Mouse Trap</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>MARY OF THE TYNE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">What pleasure oft ’tis to reveal</div>
-<div class="verse">The pain or rapture which we feel;</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis bliss while either we impart</div>
-<div class="verse">Unto a sympathetic heart,</div>
-<div class="verse">Just like to that sweet heart of thine,</div>
-<div class="verse">My lovely Mary of the Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">I lose, when near thee, all my care,</div>
-<div class="verse">When from thee, I am all despair;</div>
-<div class="verse">My bosom heaves with anxious pain,</div>
-<div class="verse">Until I meet with thee again,</div>
-<div class="verse">What are these adverse pangs of mine,</div>
-<div class="verse">My lovely Mary of the Tyne?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Say, is it from thy beauteous face,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or is it from thy nat’ral grace,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or is it thy angelic mind,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or is it ev’ry one combin’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Making one sweet form divine,</div>
-<div class="verse">My lovely Mary of the Tyne?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Should it be love, thou’dst sure forgive?</div>
-<div class="verse">That is the food on which I live;</div>
-<div class="verse">But if thou should’st that bliss deny,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then must thy faithful lover die;</div>
-<div class="verse">Or linger out his life supine,</div>
-<div class="verse">For lovely Mary of the Tyne!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>NEWCASTLE FAIR&mdash;October, 1811.</h2>
-
-<p><i>The Pitman a drinking of <span class="smcap">Jacky</span>.</i> (English Gin. This liquor has various names in different parts
-of the country. At a village in the western part of Northumberland,
-the editor heard it called Blue Dick.)</p>
-
-<p class="center">By J.S.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>&mdash;Drops of Brandy.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ha’ ye been at Newcastle fair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And did ye see ouse o’ great Sandy?</div>
-<div class="verse">Lord bliss us! what wark there was there;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And the folks were drinking of brandy.</div>
-<div class="verse">Brandy, a shilling a glass!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Aw star’d, and thought it was shamful.</div>
-<div class="verse">Never mind, says aw, canny lass,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Give us yell, and aw’ll drink ma wameful.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Rum te idily, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Says she, Canny man, the yell’s cawd;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It comes frev a man they ca’ Mackey,</div>
-<div class="verse">And my faith it’s byeth sour an’ awd;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ye’d best hev a drop o’ wour jacky.</div>
-<div class="verse">Your jacky! says I, now what’s that?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I ne’er heard the neame o’ sic liquor.</div>
-<div class="verse">English gin, canny man, that’s flat.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And then she set up a great nicker.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Rum te idily, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Says I, divent laugh at poor folks,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But gang and bring some o’ yur jacky;</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw want neane o’ yur jibes or jokes;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’ th’ mean time aw’ll tak a bit backy.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Aw just tuke a chew o’ pig tail,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She brought in this jacky se funny:</div>
-<div class="verse">Says she, Sir, that’s better than ale:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And held out her hand for the money.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Rum te idily, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s three pence to pay, if you please:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Aw star’d an’ aw gap’d like a ninny:</div>
-<div class="verse">Od smash thee, aw’ll sit at ma ease,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ not stir till aw’ve spent a half guinea.</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw sat an’ aw drank till quite blind,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then aw’ gat up to gang to the door,</div>
-<div class="verse">But deel smash a door cou’d aw find,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ fell flat o’ ma fyess on the floor.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Rum te idily, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There aw lay for ever se lang,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And dreamt about rivers and ditches;</div>
-<div class="verse">When waken’d, was singing this song&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Smash, jacky, thou’s wet a’ ma breeches.”</div>
-<div class="verse">An’ faith! but the sang it was true,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For jacky had been se prevailing,</div>
-<div class="verse">He’d whistled himsel’ quickly through,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ the chairs an’ tables were sailing.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Rum te idily, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then rising, aw went ma ways heame,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Aw knock’d at the door, an’ cry’d, Jenny;</div>
-<div class="verse">Says she, Canny man, is’te lame,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or been wadin in Tyne, ma hinny?</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ troth, she was like for to dee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ just by the way to relieve her,</div>
-<div class="verse">The water’s been wadin through me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ this jacky’s a gay deceiver.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Rum te idily, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If e’er aw drink jacky again,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">May the bitch of a lass, ma adviser,</div>
-<div class="verse">Loup alive down ma throat, with a stane</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As big as a pulveriser.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Rum te idily, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE NEWCASTLE BEAUTIES.</h2>
-
-<p>These beauties must be now of some age, as they are unknown
-to the editor.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Designed to be sung to the Harpsicord or Spinet, &amp;c.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center">I.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tho’ lofty bards sublimer sing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And boldly tune their lays;</div>
-<div class="verse">Not less renown attends the string,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which sounds to beauty’s praise.</div>
-<div class="verse">Ye muses then lend me your aid,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whilst I attempt to prove,</div>
-<div class="verse">That in <i>Newcastle</i> many a maid</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Excells the queen of love.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center">II.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ye bards, forbear your partial lays,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ye who so lofty sing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor longer only <i>Venus</i> praise,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But here your numbers bring.</div>
-<div class="verse">No more shall blinded mortals pray,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or bow before her shrine;</div>
-<div class="verse">No more in <i>Cyprus</i> seek the bay,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But find it here on <i>Tyne</i>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center">III.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">First of yon throng, see <i>Delia</i><a name="FNanchor_18" id="FNanchor_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> shine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That matchless nonpareil!</div>
-<div class="verse">All eyes confess her form divine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Such graces round her dwell.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Dame nature has herself outdone,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In that most beauteous fair,</div>
-<div class="verse">And lavish’d all those charms on one,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which thousands only share.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center">IV.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Next her, behold the lovely <i>Cloe</i><a name="FNanchor_19" id="FNanchor_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ye gods! what killing eyes!</div>
-<div class="verse">See how her charming ringlets flow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where wanton Cupid lies:</div>
-<div class="verse">The rose, compar’d to her, shall fade,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The lily lose its white:</div>
-<div class="verse">E’en Sol himself must own the maid,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And shine with beams less bright.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center">V.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thee, lovely <i>Cynthia</i><a name="FNanchor_20" id="FNanchor_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a>, next we sing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Charm’d with thy beauteous face,</div>
-<div class="verse">More blooming than the verdent spring,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Adorn’d with ev’ry grace;</div>
-<div class="verse">Thy comely shape and genteel air,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our admiration raise,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thou stands confess’d a perfect fair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And worthy all our praise.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center">VI.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thy mien, sweet <i>Daphne</i><a name="FNanchor_21" id="FNanchor_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a>, next we view,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And as we view, approve;</div>
-<div class="verse">Thy blooming charms all hearts subdue,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And kindle them to love:</div>
-<div class="verse">Those charming breasts, and sparkling eyes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">What mortal can oppose?</div>
-<div class="verse">Still as we gaze, new beauties rise,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And still the passion grows.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center">VII.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Gay <i>Sylvia</i><a name="FNanchor_22" id="FNanchor_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> next appears in sight,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Surrounded by her charms,</div>
-<div class="verse">Her handsome form which shines so bright,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Each youthful bosom warms.</div>
-<div class="verse">Ye youths withdraw your wishful eyes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor longer on her gaze;</div>
-<div class="verse">For were your hearts as cold as ice,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her beams would make them blaze.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center">VIII.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sweet <i>Celia</i><a name="FNanchor_23" id="FNanchor_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> next demands our care,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That lovely nut-brown maid!</div>
-<div class="verse">Behold her charming flowing hair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In jetty locks display’d:</div>
-<div class="verse">She fills each bosom with desire,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So graceful is her mein;</div>
-<div class="verse">Her comely features all admire,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where thousand loves are seen.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center">IX.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">See <i>Flavia</i><a name="FNanchor_24" id="FNanchor_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a>, the young, the gay,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For graceful air renown’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Her mien more bright than flow’ry May,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With ev’ry beauty crown’d.</div>
-<div class="verse">Her beauteous sister<a name="FNanchor_25" id="FNanchor_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> next appears,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whom wond’rous charms adorn;</div>
-<div class="verse">The lovely doe each bosom chears,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With beauties like the morn.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center">X.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The next we view is <i>Julia’s</i><a name="FNanchor_26" id="FNanchor_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> face,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For comely features lov’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">Her golden locks still add a grace,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To what all hearts approv’d.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Her friend no less inspires the lay,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The lovely <i>Danæ</i><a name="FNanchor_27" id="FNanchor_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> fair,</div>
-<div class="verse">To whom all tongues their praises pay,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Charm’d with her shape and air.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center">XI.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thee, <i>Phœbe</i><a name="FNanchor_28" id="FNanchor_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a>, with <i>Ophelia</i><a name="FNanchor_29" id="FNanchor_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> join’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We can’t too much admire,</div>
-<div class="verse">Your blooming charms, it must be own’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">All hearts to love inspire.</div>
-<div class="verse">To handsome <i>Pat</i><a name="FNanchor_30" id="FNanchor_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a>, and lovely <i>Stell</i><a name="FNanchor_31" id="FNanchor_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our praises too belong;</div>
-<div class="verse">These, who in various charms excel,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Close up the beauteous throng.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse center">XII.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">As now ador’d you pass your bloom,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Your autumn you may live;</div>
-<div class="verse">Let me, ye beauteous fair, presume,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">This one advice to give;</div>
-<div class="verse">Virtue pursue&mdash;or vain ye’re bright,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1"><i>“In vain your eyes may roll;</i></div>
-<div class="verse"><i>’Tis true that charms do strike the sight,</i></div>
-<div class="verse indent1"><i>But merit wins the soul.”</i></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_18" id="Footnote_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Miss P&mdash;&mdash;y T&mdash;&mdash;n.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_19" id="Footnote_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Miss H&mdash;&mdash;le.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_20" id="Footnote_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> Miss H&mdash;&mdash;y.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_21" id="Footnote_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Miss B&mdash;&mdash;p.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_22" id="Footnote_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Miss H&mdash;&mdash;m.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_23" id="Footnote_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Miss S&mdash;&mdash;s.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_24" id="Footnote_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Miss F&mdash;&mdash;tt</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_25" id="Footnote_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Miss F&mdash;&mdash;tt.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_26" id="Footnote_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Miss H&mdash;&mdash;h.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_27" id="Footnote_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> Miss J&mdash;&mdash; B&mdash;&mdash;ll.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_28" id="Footnote_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Miss P&mdash;&mdash; S&mdash;&mdash;t.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_29" id="Footnote_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> Miss L&mdash;&mdash;s.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_30" id="Footnote_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> Miss A&mdash;&mdash;n.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_31" id="Footnote_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> Miss M&mdash;&mdash;y G&mdash;&mdash;n.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>SONG,<br />
-<i>On the Address of the Newcastle House of Lords, on turning
-out Lord North, and Mr Fox</i>.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When Royal G&mdash;&mdash;e, on new year’s day,<a name="FNanchor_32" id="FNanchor_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Had told his bishops, great and small,</div>
-<div class="verse">What our <i>wise Crows</i>, last March did say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“He fear’d Britannia’s sudden fall.”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For knaves determin’d on his doom;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Two of the worst were <i>Fox</i> and <i>North</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse">These he displac’d, and in their room</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Had station’d <span class="smcap">Pitt</span>, and men of worth.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">T’ assuage the sovereign’s grief and care,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And loyal feeling to express,</div>
-<div class="verse">Imperial London’s duteous mayor,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Approach’d the throne with an address.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Counties, and towns, and boroughs too,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Throng’d thick, and their addresses paid,</div>
-<div class="verse">Their prince to undeceive, and shew</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">How twice ten years he’d been betray’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Newcastle’s mayor, to virtue form’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">(<i>Charles</i> the upright and the good;)</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose hands refrain’d, and nobly scorn’d</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To stain with <i>transatlantic</i> blood.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A temperate zeal, he did confess,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Became each lover of his king;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then all join’d him in an address;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And thousands warmly did it sign.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A band more true, (what need of words?)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And of all loyal men the flower;</div>
-<div class="verse">I mean <i>Ned C&mdash;&mdash;g’s house of lords</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who prais’d each minister in power.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The fancy seiz’d! each noble peer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Pushing the tankard foaming o’er:</div>
-<div class="verse">(O had lord <i>Umbrage</i> but been here,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But we shall never see him more!)</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now fairly sat the sage divan,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And silence call’d to every box.</div>
-<div class="verse">“Let’s thank our king, aye every man,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For turning out lord <i>North</i> and <i>Fox</i>.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We must confess it’s scarce seven years,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Since we address’d our royal sire;</div>
-<div class="verse">And beg’d he’d scorn all whiggish fears,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And we would help to blow the fire.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">War’s flame did blaze both far and near,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Europe’s powers against us join’d:</div>
-<div class="verse">Our fleets were beat, our armies fled,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We sued for peace, and bought it dear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">It’s true the whigs, these knavish rogues</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">All cried, our mischiefs North began:</div>
-<div class="verse">But what care we for barking dogs;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For <i>North</i> was still <i>the greatest man</i>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our empire was too wide and great,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And too unwieldy&mdash;and what not!</div>
-<div class="verse">But <i>North</i>, our tailor of the state,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Clip’d it, as <i>Umbrage</i> would a coat.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A truth from which we scorn to swerve.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1"><i>The more we lose, the more we gain</i>;</div>
-<div class="verse">And trade and treasures only serve,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To foster pride, and care, and pain.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But ah, how vain is human hope!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Great <i>North</i> with spendthrift <i>Fox</i> has join’d:</div>
-<div class="verse">(For this he well deserves a rope)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">All fair professions are but wind.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come then, my lords, stand forth like men,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The good old cause keep still in view;</div>
-<div class="verse">And tell the k&mdash;&mdash;g we do condemn</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Old knaves, and will support the new.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The house then rung with loud applause,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fists, pipes, and smoke, their joy express.</div>
-<div class="verse">A committee resolved was</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To word, and draw up the address.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Th’ expence, agreed by numerous votes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Attending this address of thanks;</div>
-<div class="verse">Was all to be paid out in notes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of Sir James Duncan’s best of banks.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_32" id="Footnote_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> Alluding to the king’s reply to the b&mdash;&mdash;’s address, usual on
-the first day of the year, expressive of a desponding prediction, truly
-alarming.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2><i>THE ADDRESS</i><br />
-OF<br />
-SIR J. DUNCAN, AND CO.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Of the Scale de Cross Bank, to the Ladies, Gentlemen, and
-Merchants, of Newcastle upon Tyne, and its Environs.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sir James Duncan and Co. their kind compliments send</div>
-<div class="verse">To the public in general, who so befriend</div>
-<div class="verse">Their laudable endeavour, your gold to exchange,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet reluctantly confess, they think it most strange</div>
-<div class="verse">Their opening a Bank, shou’d be <i>impudent</i> thought,</div>
-<div class="verse">By those who are strangers to their <span class="smcapuc">KERECTER</span><a name="FNanchor_33" id="FNanchor_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a>, and note,</div>
-<div class="verse">And flatter themselves, the following reasons will prove</div>
-<div class="verse">Their right to <i>be Bankers</i>, and objections remove.</div>
-<div class="verse">The title, they presume, will command the esteem</div>
-<div class="verse">Of those who at a distance, from hence, may have seen</div>
-<div class="verse">Their elegant Notes; their clothes&mdash;they vow, and declare,</div>
-<div class="verse">In London were made, as you may see by their air;</div>
-<div class="verse">The skin on Sir <i>James</i>, is not so fit as his coat,</div>
-<div class="verse">And fine Bristol beer washes his throat.</div>
-<div class="verse">No Newcastle furniture their office degrades,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sir <i>James Duncan</i> employs no such bungling, vile blades,</div>
-<div class="verse">As the paltry workmen, in this smokey town,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose finery often&mdash;has made us Bankers frown.</div>
-<div class="verse">They are not worth an hundred thousand it’s true,</div>
-<div class="verse">But supposing they were, cou’d the public, and you</div>
-<div class="verse">Their friends be assured they wou’d not exceed</div>
-<div class="verse">Their capital <i>twice</i>, when their paper you need,</div>
-<div class="verse">And <i>wisely prefer</i> it, to hard silver and gold,</div>
-<div class="verse">Because you don’t <i>weigh</i> it, and it’s much sooner told.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">The notes of their brethern they will not refuse,</div>
-<div class="verse">Let other bankers less <i>wise</i>, do that if they chuse;</div>
-<div class="verse">The public they’ll serve, their cash take, and bills discount,</div>
-<div class="verse">Except at Change hours, to any amount;</div>
-<div class="verse">And when profusion and taxes, and of America the loss,</div>
-<div class="verse">Old England has ruin’d&mdash;firm will stand the <i>Scale Cross</i>.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The critics our doggrels will sneer at, we suppose,</div>
-<div class="verse">But <i>Strap</i>, who’s a <span class="smcapuc">GENIUS</span>, has measur’d them, and knows,</div>
-<div class="verse">Like a shoe on a last they are fit, and convey</div>
-<div class="verse">Our intention completely, and it’s needless to say,</div>
-<div class="verse">Newcastle, Exchange, Tyne, or Commercial Bank,<a name="FNanchor_34" id="FNanchor_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">Must yield to us in writing, as well as in rank,</div>
-<div class="verse">No knight can they boast&mdash;and we his majesty thank.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Sir J. Duncan, Hide, Strap, Last, Awl, &amp; Jacob End.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">SIR JAMES DUNCAN’s NOTES WERE AS FOLLOWS:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
-<img src="images/banknote.jpg" width="500" height="281" alt="Banknote" />
-<p class="caption">CRISPIN.</p>
-<p class="caption">No. 89.</p>
-<p class="caption"><i>I Promise to pay Mr Benj. Bulk,
-or Bearer on Demand the Sum of</i> Two Pence, <i>Value received</i>.
-Seale de Cross Bank, <span class="smcap">Newcastle</span>, <i>24 Jany 1784</i>.
-<i>For Sir J. Duncan, Hide, Strap, Last, Awl, &amp; Self,
-Jacob End.</i></p>
-<p class="caption">Two Pence.</p>
-<p class="caption"><i>Entd Jas Back, No. 89.</i></p>
-<p class="caption"><i>N.B. Our Estates liable, and Copper taken.</i></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_33" id="Footnote_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> We have observed, at a Coffee-house, that one of our brethren
-pronounces this word thus.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_34" id="Footnote_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> Out of these four banks, only two now remain, (1812) <i>i.e.</i>, the Newcastle, and the Tyne.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><i>AN ELEGY</i>,<br />
-TO THE MEMORY OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE<br />
-LORD RAVENSWORTH.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Who died, January 30th, 1784, Aged 76.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Liddell, farewell! to all true Britons dear,</div>
-<div class="verse">We mourn in heart, and shed the friendly tear:</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet not for thee our eyes in tears we steep,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our grief is selfish&mdash;for ourselves we weep:</div>
-<div class="verse">No loss by death the worthy can sustain,</div>
-<div class="verse">We are the losers&mdash;and our loss thy gain.</div>
-<div class="verse">The rich have lost, by thy lamented end,</div>
-<div class="verse">The <i>best</i> of neighbours; and the poor a <i>friend</i>.</div>
-<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">O Ravensworth</span>! thy hospitable door</div>
-<div class="verse">Receiv’d the wealthy, and reliev’d the poor.</div>
-<div class="verse">Adorn’d with ev’ry virtue, ev’ry grace</div>
-<div class="verse">Which nature <i>e’er</i> bestow’d on human race.</div>
-<div class="verse">Through a long life, example bright thou shone!</div>
-<div class="verse">By all belov’d:&mdash;Now each regrets thou’rt gone!</div>
-<div class="verse">Thy suff’rings here were weigh’d; nor shall thy death</div>
-<div class="verse">Be more than ceasing of thy mortal breath;</div>
-<div class="verse">Thy Master calls, ripe for thy Master’s joy,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where love and bliss, the upright mind employ.</div>
-<div class="verse">Speak ye, who knew him best, what man can say,</div>
-<div class="verse">That <span class="smcap">Liddell</span> could the distant friend betray!</div>
-<div class="verse">To friendship true, no scandal from his tongue;</div>
-<div class="verse">To hurt a friend, or do his foe a wrong.</div>
-<div class="verse">For truth he try’d, enquir’d, and careful sought,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet lov’d the man altho’ he diff’rent thought.</div>
-<div class="verse">Who’s right! be left to that decisive day,</div>
-<div class="verse">When truth’s bright beams shall shine without allay.</div>
-<div class="verse">Ne’er sway’d by notions, nor to schemes confin’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">His breast was open to the honest mind.</div>
-<div class="verse">Whatever noble warmth could recommend,</div>
-<div class="verse">The just, the active, and the constant friend;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whatever great or good we can adore,</div>
-<div class="verse">Center’d in him&mdash;in him alas! no more.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Thus love, peace, joy, with a distinguish’d grace,</div>
-<div class="verse">Shone thro’ the features of his friendly face.</div>
-<div class="verse">How near approaches to a life divine,</div>
-<div class="verse">The man in whom the peaceful virtues shine?</div>
-<div class="verse">In public charities he foremost stood,</div>
-<div class="verse">And likewise private&mdash;&mdash;always doing good.</div>
-<div class="verse">The poor, in him, a friend was sure to find,</div>
-<div class="verse">And to their wants, his purse he free resign’d.</div>
-<div class="verse">Such the kind man! May we like him be wise,</div>
-<div class="verse">Pursue his virtuous steps, and with him reach the prize.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>T.R.</i></p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2><i>LINES</i><br />
-ON THE DEATH OF<br />
-JOHN, LORD DELAVAL;</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Who died, May 17th, 1808.&mdash;Aged 80.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">By M. Harvey.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In hollow murmurs o’er the bending reeds</div>
-<div class="verse">Sorrow’s keen accents sweep across the meads;</div>
-<div class="verse">And as the grief-charg’d sound moves sad along,</div>
-<div class="verse">Unstrings the lute, and stills the wood nymph’s song.</div>
-<div class="verse">O’er all the sad’n’d scene the mournful train,</div>
-<div class="verse">In keenest anguish, join the solemn strain;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilst recollection, with tenacious power,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thickens the gloom that damps the passing hour.</div>
-<div class="verse">The many banner’d trump of clarion fame,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sounds in full chords the blood stain’d warrior’s name,</div>
-<div class="verse">Echoes to realms remote, and nations far,</div>
-<div class="verse">The mighty power of man-destroying war.</div>
-<div class="verse">Deadens with magic force each softer lay,</div>
-<div class="verse">That throng’d the courts, and made the vallies gay:</div>
-<div class="verse">While the vain phantom, honour, barbs the wand,</div>
-<div class="verse">That waves destruction o’er the smiling land.</div>
-<div class="verse">And ’midst the accents of her harsher lays,</div>
-<div class="verse">Shall she forget to sound the good man’s praise?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Forbid it, every spark of social love,</div>
-<div class="verse">That made, through life, his every passion move;</div>
-<div class="verse">That taught his heart with sympathy to glow,</div>
-<div class="verse">To stem the torrent of domestic woe.</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose open hand strew’d o’er the lowly scene,</div>
-<div class="verse">Plenty’s gay smiles, and joy’s delighted mien;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose presence cheer’d, with animating ray,</div>
-<div class="verse">Life’s highest walks, and made the gay more gay:</div>
-<div class="verse">Fitted alike to grace the lordly dome,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or in the cottage make contentment bloom:</div>
-<div class="verse">Thy virtues, <span class="smcap">Delaval</span>, we long shall mourn,</div>
-<div class="verse">And wash, with unfeign’d tears, thy hallow’d urn.</div>
-<div class="verse">No laurel wreath, nor high poetic lays</div>
-<div class="verse">Need bloom, or live in song to sound thy praise;</div>
-<div class="verse">For whilst thy loss our keenest sorrow moves,</div>
-<div class="verse">O’er all the <i>past</i>, delighted fancy roves;</div>
-<div class="verse">Each fond remembrance that reverts to thee,</div>
-<div class="verse">Tells what our <i>present</i> conduct ought to be;</div>
-<div class="verse">And points, with heavenward aim, to that Dread Power,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose mystic means unfolds the <i>future</i> hour;</div>
-<div class="verse">Cheers the dark gloom of life’s last setting ray,</div>
-<div class="verse">And leads us on to everlasting day!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE WALLSEND RIFLE CORPS.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Of a’ the many bonny corps,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which now our country nigh fill,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where can ye shew me sic a corps,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As the bonny Wallsend Rifle?</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The bonny Wallsend Rifle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The canny Wallsend Rifle;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Where can ye shew me sic a corps,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">As the bonny Wallsend Rifle?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Whe loups the dykes, an’ climbs the wa’s,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then thinks it but a trifle?</div>
-<div class="verse">Why, naen amang the black-breek’d chaps;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Naen but the Wallsend Rifle.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">The bonny, &amp;c.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They’ve brav’ry aboon the een;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And when on Throckley High Fell,</div>
-<div class="verse">Th’ Newcastle chaps dar’d not engage;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They tuke the Wallsend Rifle.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">The bonny, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To see them shut, then run, then shut,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And then fall down or lye still:</div>
-<div class="verse">O wuns! it’s better than a play,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The bonny Wallsend Rifle.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">The bonny, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With bravery to kill the French,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Long may their bosoms high fill:</div>
-<div class="verse">And long may monny on us sing&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The bonny Wallsend Rifle.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">The bonny, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>SONG.<br />
-<i>Written on the King’s Birth-day, 1808.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>&mdash;Sons of the Tyne.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come, haste to Newcastle, ye sons of fair Freedom,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">You’ll there see a sight that will banish your fears;</div>
-<div class="verse">A sight that would terrify Bonney, should he come,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The sight I allude to’s our brave Volunteers.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Arrang’d in a row, with the brave Association;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Gateshead, so gallant, are likewise in line;</div>
-<div class="verse">Our Volunteers too, the defence of the nation,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">You likewise will see the bright Legion of Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Sunderland too, with Artillery assemble;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Shields and the Hexham with ardour appears;</div>
-<div class="verse">The sight of these heroes would make Bonney tremble,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Could he get a peep at our brave Volunteers.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ye fam’d Rifle corps, I must too praise your merit;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">You’ll always be ready when glory does call;</div>
-<div class="verse">The whole fir’d with freedom, with ardour and spirit,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When flank’d by the boys from the End of the Wall.<a name="FNanchor_35" id="FNanchor_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">You Patriots assembled on this grand occasion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A sight that’s so noble each wounded mind cheers;</div>
-<div class="verse">They’ll always be ready to repel invasion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And merit the title of brave Volunteers.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">May courage and candour still all your minds govern,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Your zeal in the pages of history will shine;</div>
-<div class="verse">Be true to your country and just to your Sovereign,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ye sons of fair Freedom, of Wear and of Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_35" id="Footnote_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> Wallsend.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE TOKEN MONGER.<br />
-A SONG.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>&mdash;Erin go bragh.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The plaint of a mourner, deep sorrow oppress’d with,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Late, as thro’ Dean Street I pass’d, caught my ear;</div>
-<div class="verse">’Twas a poor Token Monger, who prudence unbless’d with,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Had receiv’d for <i>presumption</i>, a trimming severe.</div>
-<div class="verse">He gaz’d on the <i>caution</i><a name="FNanchor_36" id="FNanchor_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> with wonder dumb founded,</div>
-<div class="verse">His dear self-importance severely was wounded,</div>
-<div class="verse">At such a long list of opponents confounded:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The <i>tokens</i> he issued, were tokens of woe.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ah well-a-day! said the poor Token Monger,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My project is scouted, my <i>Mint’s</i> at a stand;</div>
-<div class="verse">Alas! the sweet hope, I must cherish no longer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of Jehu-like driving four in hand.</div>
-<div class="verse">Oh why! e’er in day dreams illusive exulting,</div>
-<div class="verse">Why did I my neighbours ne’er think of consulting!</div>
-<div class="verse">Now grief from their <i>fiat</i> so hostile resulting,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Compels me to issue the tokens of woe!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I’ve sported rare <i>logic</i>, I’ve stuck not at <i>bouncing</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’ve prov’d myself rich as a <i>crœsus</i> in <i>brass</i>;</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ve amus’d the whole town with my vaunting and flouncing;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But vain are my labours, the <i>tokens</i> won’t <i>pass</i>!</div>
-<div class="verse">Vain too is thy friendship, dear Butterfly Billy,</div>
-<div class="verse">Of all my supporters, most noisy and silly;</div>
-<div class="verse">Wilt thou still take my tokens? sweet daffa-down-dilly:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Oh! those which I issue are tokens of woe!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Vanity whisper’d me, “John thou art clever,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Thy neighbours beyond their own noses can’t see;”</div>
-<div class="verse">I foolishly thought so, but never, oh never,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was mortal more sadly mistaken than me.</div>
-<div class="verse">Down from your windows, my friends, snatch your papers,</div>
-<div class="verse">The ridicule now of all <i>starers</i> and <i>gapers</i>;</div>
-<div class="verse">Some wag I am fearful will give you the <i>vapours</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By offering you payment in tokens of woe.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Join, O ye pay clerks, my loud lamentations,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Come my ill luck sympathetic deplore:</div>
-<div class="verse">On discount you reckon’d, but such expectations,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Alas! my good friends, you must cherish no more.</div>
-<div class="verse">Tokens! God help me! why, why should I make them!</div>
-<div class="verse">Neither will Pitmen or Keelmen now take them;</div>
-<div class="verse">E’en in their wagers, they scruple to stake them,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Oh! none must I issue but tokens of woe!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No more of his sorrows the muse hath recorded,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Tho’ tunefully still he bewail’d his sad fate;</div>
-<div class="verse">For listning no longer enjoyment afforded;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The evening was chilly, the hour it was late.</div>
-<div class="verse">Ah, thought I, as quick homeward I now was repairing,</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis just with all <i>wrong-heads</i>, presumptious and daring,</div>
-<div class="verse">In their projects, the end with the means never squaring,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Still baffled, they issue the tokens of woe.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_36" id="Footnote_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> A caution against the tokens, signed by 118 persons, was published 26th November, 1811.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><i>The following Dialogue, in bad Prose, was overheard by the
-Person who now attempts it in bad Verse.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center">(December, 1811.)</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Hey, Jacky, ma honey, hae ye seen the new money,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The money, that’s made, mun, at Newcastle town?</div>
-<div class="verse">It’s bonie an’ breet, man, an’ tho’ it’s but leet, man,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Folks like it sae weel, that the notes are off flown.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“I frae the chap got, man, a score for a note, man;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ smash me! I thought him a thick headed feul;</div>
-<div class="verse">T’ gie siller for paper, is sure a queer caper:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We knaw which is better, Jack, we were at skeul.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“But, Will, I’ve a notion, you han’t seen the caution,<a name="FNanchor_37" id="FNanchor_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The grocer folks up i’ their windows hae put;</div>
-<div class="verse">They say they’ll be broken, if they take a token;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ seun that their shops they will hae for to shut.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Why, Jack, sure they’re feulish, to refuse them is cullish,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Why siller, man’s, siller, and paper’s but rags;</div>
-<div class="verse">And as lang as we knaw that, there’s nane o’ them a’ that</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Will make us put paper stead sill i’ wor bags.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“The bank there of Surtees, ye knaw how it hurt hus;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And, for the five score pund I’d laid by for’t lass,</div>
-<div class="verse">They’re now off’ring twenty, an thinking it plenty;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Tho’ years ago, Jack, I was starving for’t brass.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“An Jack i’ the raw, ye very weel knaw,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The loss he cam too, when his house it was brunt:</div>
-<div class="verse">His kistful of paper, went up in a vapour,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An of his sixscore pund he heard na mair on’t.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“No, no more their notes, shall they cram down our throats,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When we siller can get, man, to put i’ wour kists:</div>
-<div class="verse">A f&mdash;&mdash;t for their signing, an cautions sae whining,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Let them who won’t take them, wey, do it that lists.”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_37" id="Footnote_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> The caution was mostly signed by the grocers of the town; it
-having been devised at their trade meeting.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>FOOTY AGAIN THE WALL.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>A Song much sung some Years ago, by the Pitmen about
-Long Benton.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Fra Benton Bank, to Benton town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">There’s not a Pitman’s raw:</div>
-<div class="verse">So when ye get to the Moor Yate,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Play footy again the wa’.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Then hie footy, and how footy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">And footy again the wa’;</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">And when ye get to the Moor Yate,</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Play footy again the wa’.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The wife went down the Moor Lonnin,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And let her basket fa’;</div>
-<div class="verse">For when she gat to the Moor Yate,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Play’d footy again the wa’.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Then hie, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The stoby road’s a stoby place,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And some o’ the stobs are la’;</div>
-<div class="verse">But still there’s some that’s high enough,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For footy again the wa’.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Then hie, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Holy Stone’s a holy place,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The trees are thick and la’;</div>
-<div class="verse">But they are nought to the Moor Yate,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For footy again the wa’.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Then hie, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Wapping Square is a bonny place,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The houses are but sma’:</div>
-<div class="verse">But in them yet there’s room enough,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For footy again the wa’.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Then hie, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lady did not like the house,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For the air it was raw;</div>
-<div class="verse">It was sweeter far at the Moor Yate,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For footy again the wa’.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Then hie, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Young Cuddy is a bonny lad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Robin’s tall and sma’;</div>
-<div class="verse">But if you come to wour town end,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They’ll footy again the wa’.</div>
-<div class="verse indent10">Then hie, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
-<img src="images/header-battle.jpg" width="300" height="153" alt="A pile of discarded armour and weapons" />
-</div>
-
-<h2>THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURN.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Fought the 9th of August, 1388.</i></p>
-
-<p>Camden, in his Britannia, page 850, gives the following account of this battle:&mdash;“There happened this year, (1388) at Otterburn, in Northumberland, a stout engagement between the Scots and English:&mdash;Victory three or four times changing sides, and at last
-fixing with the Scots; for Henry Piercy, (for his youthful forwardness, by-named Hotspur) who commanded the English, was himself
-taken prisoner, and lost 1500 of his men; and William Douglass,
-the Scots general, fell, with the greatest part of his army; so that
-never was there a greater instance of the martial prowess of both
-nations.” Sir John Froysart (who lived at that time) gives a full
-account of this battle, and says, that it was Earl James Douglass who
-was the Scottish general. See <i>Eachard, Rapin, &amp;c.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">From an old MSS.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yt fell abowght the Lamasse tyde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whan husbondes wynne ther haye,</div>
-<div class="verse">The dowghtye Dowglasse bowynd him to ryde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In Ynglond to take a praye:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The yerlle of Fyffe, withowghten stryffe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He bowynd him over Sulway:</div>
-<div class="verse">The grete wolde ever together ryde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That raysse they may rewe for aye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Over ‘Ottercap’ hyll they cam in,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And so dowyn by Rodelyffe crage,</div>
-<div class="verse">Upon Grene ‘Leyton’ they lyghted dowyn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Styrande many a’ stage:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And boldely brente Northomberlonde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And haryed many a towyn;</div>
-<div class="verse">They dyd owr Ynglysh men grete wrange,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To battell that were not bowyn.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Than spake a berne upon the bent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of comforte that was not colde,</div>
-<div class="verse">And sayd, we have brente Northomberlonde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We have all welth in holde.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now we have haryed all Bamboroweschyre,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">All the welth in the worlde have wee,</div>
-<div class="verse">I rede we ryde to Newe Castell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So styll and stalwurthlye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Upon the morrowe, when it was day,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The standerdes schone fulle bryght;</div>
-<div class="verse">To the Newe Castell the toke the waye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And thether they cam fulle ryght.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Syr Henry Perssye laye at the Newe Castell,<a name="FNanchor_38" id="FNanchor_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I tell yow withowtten drede;</div>
-<div class="verse">He had byn a march-man all hys dayes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And kept Barwyke upon Twede.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To the Newe Castell when they cam,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Skottes they cryde on hyght,</div>
-<div class="verse">Syr Harye Perssye, and thow byste within,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Com to the fylde, and fyght:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For we have brente Northomberlonde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thy erytage good and ryght;</div>
-<div class="verse">And syne my logeyng I have take,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With my brande dubbyd many a knyght.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Syr Harye Perssye cam to the walles,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Skottysh oste for to se;</div>
-<div class="verse">And sayd, And thou hast brente Northomberlonde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Full sore it rewyeth me.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yf thow hast haryed all Bamboroweschyre,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thow hast done me grete envye;</div>
-<div class="verse">For the trespasse thow hast me done,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The tone of us schall dye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Where schall I byde the, sayd the Dowglasse,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or where wylte thow com to me?</div>
-<div class="verse">“At Otterborne in the hygh way,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ther mast thow well looged be.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The roo full rekeless ther sche runnes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To make the game and glee:</div>
-<div class="verse">The fawken and the fesaunt both,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Among the holtes on hye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ther mast thow have thy welth at wyll,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Well looged ther mast be;</div>
-<div class="verse">Yt schall not be long, or I com the tyll,”</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sayd syr Harye Perssye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ther schall I byde the, said the Dowglasse,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By the fayth of my bodye.</div>
-<div class="verse">Thether schall I com, sayd syr Harye Perssye;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My trowth I plyght to the.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A pype of wyne he gave them over the walles,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For soth, as I yow saye,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ther he myed the Dowglasse drynke,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And all hys ost that daye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Dowglasse turnyd hym homewarde agayne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For soth withowghten naye,</div>
-<div class="verse">He took hys logeynge at Otterborne</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Upon a Wedynsday:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And ther he pyght hys standerd dowyn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Hys gettyng more and lesse,</div>
-<div class="verse">And syne he warned hys men to goo,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To chose ther geldynges gresse.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A Skottyshe knyght hoved upon the bent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A wache I dare well saye:</div>
-<div class="verse">So was he ware on the noble Perssy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In the dawnyng of the daye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He prycked to his pavyleon dore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As fast as he myght ronne,</div>
-<div class="verse">Awaken, Dowglasse, cryed the knyght,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For hys love that syttes in trone.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Awaken, Dowglasse, cryed the knyght,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For thow maste waken wyth wynne;</div>
-<div class="verse">Yender have I spyed the prowde Perssye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And seven standardes wyth hym.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Nay, by my trowth, the Dowglasse sayed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Yt ys but a fayned taylle:</div>
-<div class="verse">He durst not loke on my brede banner,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For all Ynglonde so haylle.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Was I not yesterdaye at the Newe Castell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That stondes so fayre on Tyne?</div>
-<div class="verse">For all the men the Perssye had,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He cowde not garr me ones to dyne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He stepped owt at hys pavelyon dore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To loke and yt were lesse;</div>
-<div class="verse">“Araye yow, lordynges, one and all,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For here bygynnes no peysse.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The yerlle of Mentaye, thow art my erne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The fowarde I gyve to thee:</div>
-<div class="verse">The yerlle of Huntley cawte and kene,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He schall ‘wyth the be.’</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lorde of Bowghan in armure bryght,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On the other hand he schall be:</div>
-<div class="verse">Lorde Jhonstone, and lorde Maxwell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They to schall be wyth me.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Swynton fayre fylde upon your pryde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To batell make yow bowen:</div>
-<div class="verse">Syr Davy Skotte, syr Water Stewarde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Syr Jhon of Agurstone.”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_38" id="Footnote_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> The Scots, in this inroad, lay before Newcastle three days, where
-there was an almost continual skirmish. Sir Henry Percy, (with his
-brother, had come to Newcastle, on the intelligence of the Scots being
-abroad) in one of these skirmishes, lost his pennon or standard; and
-pledging himself to redeem it, followed the Scots to Otterburn, where
-the battle took place. See <i>Freysart’s Chronicles</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2><i>A FYTTE.</i></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Perssye came byfore hys oste,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whych was ever a gentyll knyght,</div>
-<div class="verse">Upon the Dowglasse lowde can he crye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I wyll holde that I have hyght:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For thou haste brente Northomberlonde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And done me grete envye;</div>
-<div class="verse">For thys trespasse thow haste me done,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The tone of us schall dye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Dowglasse answerde him agayne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With grete wurdes upon hye,</div>
-<div class="verse">And sayd, I have twenty agaynst ‘thy’ one.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Byholde and thow maste see.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Wyth that the Perssye was grevyd sore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For soth, as I yow saye:</div>
-<div class="verse">He lyghted dowyn upon hys foote,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And schoote his horsse clene away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Every man sawe that he dyd soo,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That rall was ever in rowght;</div>
-<div class="verse">Every man schoote hys horsse hym froo,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And lyght hym rowynde abowght.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This syr Harye Perssye toke the fylde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For soth, as I yow saye:</div>
-<div class="verse">Jesu Cryste in heven on hyght</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Dyd helpe hym well that daye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But nyne thowsande, ther was no moo;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The cronykle wyll not layne:</div>
-<div class="verse">Forty thowsande Skottes and fowre</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That day fowght them agayne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But when the battell byganne to joyne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In hast ther cam a knyght,</div>
-<div class="verse">The letters fayr furth hath he tayne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And thus he sayd full ryght:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">My lorde, your father he gretes yow well,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wyth many a noble knyght;</div>
-<div class="verse">He desyres yow to byde</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That he may see thys fyght.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The baron of Grastoke ys com owt of the west,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wyth hym a noble companye;</div>
-<div class="verse">All they loge at your fathers thys nyght,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And the battell fayne wolde they see.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For Jesus love, sayd syr Harye Perssye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That dyed for yow and me,</div>
-<div class="verse">Wende to my lorde my father agayne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And saye thow sawe me not wyth yee.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">My trowth ys plyght to yonne Skottysh knyght,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Yt nedes me not to layne,</div>
-<div class="verse">That I schulde byde hym upon thys bent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And I have hys trowth agayne:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And yf that I wynde off thys growende,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For soth onfowghten awaye,</div>
-<div class="verse">He wolde me call but a kowarde knyght</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Yn hys londe another daye.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yet had I lever to be rynde and rente,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By Mary that mykell maye,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then ever my manhood schulde be reprovyd,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wyth a Skotte another daye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Wherfore, schote, archars, for my sake,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And let scharpe arowes flee:</div>
-<div class="verse">Mynstrells, playe up for your waryson,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And well quyt yt schall be.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Every man thynke on hys trewe love,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And marke hym to the Trenite:</div>
-<div class="verse">For to God I make myne avowe</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">This daye wyll I not fle.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The blodye harte yn the Dowglas armes,<a name="FNanchor_39" id="FNanchor_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Hys standerde stode on hye;</div>
-<div class="verse">That every man myght full well knowe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By syde stode starres thre.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The whyte lyon on the Ynglyssh perte,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Forsoth as I yow sayne;</div>
-<div class="verse">The lucettes and the ‘cressawntes’ both;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Skottes fowght them agayne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Upon sent Andrewe lowde can they crye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And thrysse they schowte on ayght,</div>
-<div class="verse">And syne marked them one owr Ynglysshe men,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As I have tolde yow ryght.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sent George the bryght, owr ladyes knyght,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To name they were full fayne;</div>
-<div class="verse">Owr Ynglisshe men they cryde on hyght,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And thrysse the schowtte agayne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Wyth that scharpe arowes bygan to flee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I tell yow in sertayne;</div>
-<div class="verse">Men of armes byganne to joyne;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Many a dowghty man was ther slayne.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Perssye and the Dowglas mette,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That ather of other was fayne;</div>
-<div class="verse">They ‘swapped’ together whyll that the swette,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wyth swordes of fine collayne;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tyll the bloode from ther bassonettes ranne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As the roke doth in the rayne.</div>
-<div class="verse">Yelde the to me, sayd the Dowglas,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or ellse thow schalt be slayne:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For I see, by thy bryght bassonet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thow arte sum man of myght;</div>
-<div class="verse">And so I do by thy burnysshed brande,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thow art an yerle, or elles a knyght.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">By my good faythe, sayd the noble Perssye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Now haste thou rede full ryght,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet wyll I never yelde me to the,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whyll I may stonde and fyght.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They swapped together, whyll that they swette,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wyth swordes scharpe and long;</div>
-<div class="verse">Ych on other so faste thee beette,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Tyll ther helmes cam in peyses dowyn.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Perssye was a man of strength,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I tell yow in thys stounde,</div>
-<div class="verse">He smote the Dowglas at the swordes length,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That he felle to the growynde.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The sworde was scharpe and sore can byte,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I tell yow in sertayne;</div>
-<div class="verse">To the harte he cowde him smyte,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thus was the Dowglas slayne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The stonderdes stode styll on ‘elke’ asyde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wyth many a grevous grone;</div>
-<div class="verse">Ther the fowght the daye, and all the nyght,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And many a dowghty man was slayne.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ther was no freke that ther wolde flye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But styffely in stowre can stond,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ych one hewyng on other whyll they myght drye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wyth many a bayllefull bronde.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ther was slayne upon the Skottes syde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For soth and sertenly,</div>
-<div class="verse">Syr James a Dowglas ther was slayne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That daye that he cowde dye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The yerlle of Mentaye he was slayne.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Grysely groned uppon the growynd;</div>
-<div class="verse">Syr Davy Skotte, syr Water Stewarde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Syr Jhon of Agurstonne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Syr Charlles Morrey in that place,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That never a fote wold flee;</div>
-<div class="verse">Syr Hugh Maxwell, a lorde he was,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wyth the Dowglasse dyd he dye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ther was slayne upon the Skottes syde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For soth as I yow saye,</div>
-<div class="verse">For fowre and forty thowsande Skottes</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Went but eyghtene awaye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ther was slayne upon the Ynglysshe syde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For soth and sertenlye,</div>
-<div class="verse">A gentyll knyght, syr Jhon ‘Fitzhewe,’</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Yt was the more pety.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Syr James Harebotell ther was slayne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For hym ther hartes were sore,</div>
-<div class="verse">The gentyll ‘Lovell’ ther was slayne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That the Perssye’s standerd bore.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ther was slayne upon the Ynglysshe perte,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For soth as I yow saye;</div>
-<div class="verse">Of nyne thowsande Ynglysshe men,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fyve hondert cam awaye:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The other were slayne in the fylde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Cryste kepe ther sowlles from wo,</div>
-<div class="verse">Seying ther was so fewe fryndes</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Agaynst so many a foo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then on the morne they mayde them beerys</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of byrch, and haysell graye;</div>
-<div class="verse">Many a widowe wyth wepyng teyres</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ther makes they fette awaye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thys fraye bygan at Otterborne</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Bytwene the nyghte and the daye;</div>
-<div class="verse">Ther the Dowglas lost hys lyffe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And the Perssye was lede awaye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then was ther a Scottysh prysoner tayne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Syr Hewe Montgomery was hys name,</div>
-<div class="verse">For soth as I yow saye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He borrowed the Perssye home agayne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now let us all for the Perssye praye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Jesu most of myght,</div>
-<div class="verse">To bryng hys sowlle to the blysse of heven,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For he was a gentyll knyght.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_39" id="Footnote_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> The armorial ensigns of Douglas were Argent, a Man’s Heart,
-Gules, and on a chief Azure three stars of the first.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">It fell and about the Lammas time,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When husband men do win their hay,</div>
-<div class="verse">Earl <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> is to the English woods,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And a’ with him to fetch a prey.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He has chosen the <span class="smcap">Lindsays</span> light,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With them the gallant <span class="smcap">Gordons</span> gay,</div>
-<div class="verse">And the Earl of <span class="smcap">Fyfe</span> withouten strife,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Sir <span class="smcap">Hugh Montgomery</span> upon a grey.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They hae taken Northumberland,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And sae hae they the North-shire,</div>
-<div class="verse">And the Otter-dale they burnt it hale,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And set it a’ into a fire.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Out then spack a bonny boy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That serv’d ane o’ Earl <span class="smcap">Douglas’</span> kin;</div>
-<div class="verse">Methinks I see an English host</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A-coming branken us upon.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If this be true, my little boy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An it be troth that thou tells me,</div>
-<div class="verse">The brawest bower in Otterbourne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">This day shall be thy morning fee.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But if it be false, my little boy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And but a lie that thou tells me;</div>
-<div class="verse">On the highest tree that’s in Otterbourne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With my awin hands I’ll hing thee hie.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The boy’s taen out his little penknife,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That hanget low down by his gare,</div>
-<div class="verse">And he gae Earl <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> a deadly wound,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Alack! a deep wound and a sare.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Earl <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> said to Sir <span class="smcap">Hugh Montgomery</span>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Tack thou the vanguard o’ the three;</div>
-<div class="verse">And bury me at yon braken bush,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That stands upon yon lilly lee.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then <span class="smcap">Percy</span> and <span class="smcap">Montgomery</span> met,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And weel a wat they war na fain;</div>
-<div class="verse">They swapped swords, and they twa swat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And ay the blood ran down between.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O yield thee, yield thee, <span class="smcap">Percy</span>, he said,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or else I vow I’ll lay thee low.</div>
-<div class="verse">Whom to shall I yield? said Earl <span class="smcap">Percy</span>;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Now that I see it maun be so.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O yield thee to yon braken bush,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">That grows upon yon lilly lee.</div>
-<div class="verse">As in that bush a bier there be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">For it I’d save thy life and thee.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I winna yield to a braken bush,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Nor yet will I unto a bier;</div>
-<div class="verse">But I wad yield to Earl <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Or Sir <span class="smcap">Hugh Montgomery</span>, if he was here.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">As soon as he knew it was <span class="smcap">Montgomery</span>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">He stuck his sword’s point in the ground:</div>
-<div class="verse">And Sir <span class="smcap">Hugh Montgomery</span> was a courteous knight,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And he quickly brought him by the hand.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The deed was done at Otterbourne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">About the breaking o’ the day.</div>
-<div class="verse">Earl <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> was buried at the braken bush,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And <span class="smcap">Percy</span> led captive away.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE HUNTING OF THE CHYVIAT.</h2>
-
-<p>Percy says this old ballad was wrote by one <i>Richard Sbeale</i>, about
-the time of Henry VI. in whose reign several James’s were kings of
-Scotland. <i>See his Notes on this Poem.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Persé owt off Northomberlonde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And a vowe to God mayd he,</div>
-<div class="verse">That he wold hunte in the mountayns</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of Chyviat within dayes thre;</div>
-<div class="verse">In the magger of doughté Dogles,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And all that ever with him be.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The fattiste hartes in all Chyviat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He sayd he wold kyll, and cary them away.</div>
-<div class="verse">By my feth, sayd the doughté Doglas agayn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I wyll let that hontyng yf that I may.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then the Persé owt of Bamborowe cam,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With him a myghtee meany;</div>
-<div class="verse">With fifteen hondrith archares bold, off blood and bone,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The wear chosen owt of shayrs thre.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This beganne on a Monday at morn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In Chyviat the hillys so he;</div>
-<div class="verse">The chyld may rue that ys unborn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It was the mor pitté.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The dryvers thorowe the woodes went</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For to reas the deare;</div>
-<div class="verse">Bomen byckarte uppone the bent</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With ther browd aras cleare.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then the wyld thorowe the woodes went</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On every syde shear;</div>
-<div class="verse">Grea hondes thorowe the grevis glent</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For to kyll thear dear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The beganne in Chyviat the hyls above,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Yerly on a sonny’tn day;</div>
-<div class="verse">Be that it drewe to the oware off none</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A hondrith fat hartes ded ther lay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The blewe a mort uppone the bent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The semblyd on sydes shear;</div>
-<div class="verse">To the quyrry then the Persé went</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To se the bryttlynge off the deare.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He sayd, It was the Doglas promys</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">This day to met me hear;</div>
-<div class="verse">But I wyste he wold faylle verament:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A great oath the Persé swear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At the last a squyar of ‘Northomberlonde,’</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lookyde at his hande full ny,</div>
-<div class="verse">He was war ath the doughetie Doglas commynge,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With him a myghtté meany.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Both with spear, byll, and brande:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Yt was a myghti sight to se,</div>
-<div class="verse">Hardyar men both off harte nar hande</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wear not in Christiantè.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The wear twenty hondrith spear-men good,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Withowte any feale;</div>
-<div class="verse">The wear borne along be the watter a Twyde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Yth bowndes of Tividale.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Leave off the brytlyng of the deare, he sayde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And to your bowys lock ye tayk good heed;</div>
-<div class="verse">For never sithe ye wear on your mothars borne</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Had ye never so mickle ned.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The dougheti Dogglas on a stede</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He rode all his men beforne;</div>
-<div class="verse">His armor glytteryde as dyd a glede;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A bolder barne was never born.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tell me ‘what’ men ye ar, he says,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or whos men that ye be:</div>
-<div class="verse">Who gave youe leave to hunte in this</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Chyviat chays in the spyt of me?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The first mane that ever him an answear mayd,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It was the good lord Persé:</div>
-<div class="verse">We wyll not tell the ‘what’ men we ar, he says,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor whos men that we be;</div>
-<div class="verse">But we will hount hear in this chays</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In the spyt of thyne and of the.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The fattiste hartes in all Chyviat</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We have kyld, and cast to carry them away.</div>
-<div class="verse">Be my troth, sayd the doughté ‘Dogglas’ agayn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ther for the ton of us shall de this day.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then sayd the doughté Dogglas,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Unto the lord Persé:</div>
-<div class="verse">To kyll all these giltles men,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Alas! it wear great pitté.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But, Persé, thowe art a lorde of lande,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I am a yerle callyd within my contrè;</div>
-<div class="verse">Let all our men uppone a parti stande;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And do the battell off the and of me.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now Cristes cors on his crowne, sayd the lord Persé,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who soever ther to says nay.</div>
-<div class="verse">Be my troth, doughté Doglas, he says,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thow shalt never se that day;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Nethar in Ynglonde, Skottlonde, nar France,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor for no man of a woman born,</div>
-<div class="verse">But and fortune be my chance,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I dar met him on man for on.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then bespayke a squyar of Northombarlonde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ric. Wytheryngton was his nam;</div>
-<div class="verse">It shall never be tolde in Sothe Ynglonde, he says,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To kyng Herry the fourth for sham.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I wat youe byn great lordes twaw,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I am a poor squyar of lande;</div>
-<div class="verse">I wyll never se my captayne fyght on a fylde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And stande myselffe, and loocke on,</div>
-<div class="verse">But whyll I may my weppone welde</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I wyll not [fayl] bothe harte and hande.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">That day, that day, that dredfull day,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The first fit here I fynde:</div>
-<div class="verse">And youe wyll here any mor athe hountyng athe Chyviat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Yet ys ther more behynd.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p>
-
-<h3>(<i>FIT THE SECOND.</i>)</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ther hartes were good yenoughe;</div>
-<div class="verse">The first off arros that the shote off,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Seven skore spear-men the sloughe.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yet byddys the yerle Doglas uppon the bent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A captayne good yenoughe,</div>
-<div class="verse">And that was sene verament,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For he wrought them hom both woo and wouche.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Doglas pertyd his ost in thre,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lyk a cheffe cheften off pryde,</div>
-<div class="verse">With suar speares off myghtté tre,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The cum in on every syde.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thrugke our Yngglyshe archery</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Gave many a wounde full wyde;</div>
-<div class="verse">Many a doughete the garde to dy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which ganyde them no pryde.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Yngglyshe men let thear ‘bowys’ be.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And pulde owt brandes that wer bright;</div>
-<div class="verse">It was a hevy syght to se</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Bryght swordes on basnites lyght.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thorowe ryche male, and myne-ye-ple,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Many sterne the stroke done streght:</div>
-<div class="verse">Many a freyke, that was full fre,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ther undar foot dyd lyght.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At last the Doglas and the Persé met,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lyk to captayns of myght and of mayne;</div>
-<div class="verse">The swapte togethar tyll the both swat</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With swordes that wear of fyn myllan.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thes worthé freckys for to fyght</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ther to the wear full fayne,</div>
-<div class="verse">Tyll the bloode owte off thear basnetes sprente,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As ever dyd heal or ran.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">‘Holde’ the, Persé, sayd the Doglas,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And i feth I shall the brynge,</div>
-<div class="verse">Wher thowe shalte have a yerls wagis</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of Jamy our ‘Scottish’ kynge.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thoue shalte have thy ransom fre,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I hight the hear this thinge;</div>
-<div class="verse">For the manfullyste man yet art thowe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That ever I conqueryd in filde fightyng.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Nay, sayd the lorde Persé,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I tolde it the beforne,</div>
-<div class="verse">That I wolde never yeldyde be</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To no man of a woman born.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With that ther cam an arrowe hastely</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Forthe off a myghtté wane,</div>
-<div class="verse">Hit hathe strekene the yerle Doglas</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In at the brest bane.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thoroue lyvar and longs bathe</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The sharpe arrowe ys gane,</div>
-<div class="verse">That never after in all his lyffe days</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He spayke mo wordes but ane,</div>
-<div class="verse">That was, Fyghte ye, my myrry men, whyllys ye may,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For my lyff days ben gan.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Persé leanyde on his brande,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And sawe the Doglas de;</div>
-<div class="verse">He tooke the dede mane be the hande,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And sayd, Wo ys me for the!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To have savyde thy lyffe I wold have pertyde with</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My landes for years thre;</div>
-<div class="verse">For a better man of hart, nare of hande,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was not in all the north contrè.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Off all that se a Skottishe knyght,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was callyd sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry,</div>
-<div class="verse">He sawe the Doglas to the deth was dyght;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He spendyd a spear a trusti tre:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He rod uppon a corsiare</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Throughe a hondrith archery;</div>
-<div class="verse">He never stynttyde, nar never blane,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Tyll he cam to the good lorde Persé.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He set uppone the lorde Persé</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A dynte that was full soare;</div>
-<div class="verse">With a suar spear of a myghtté tre</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Clean thorow the body he the Persé ‘bore.’</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Athe tothar syde, that a man myght se,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A large cloth yard and mare;</div>
-<div class="verse">Towe bettar captayns wear nat in Cristiantè,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then that day slain wear ther.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">An archar of Northomberlonde</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Say slean was the lord Persé,</div>
-<div class="verse">He bar a bende bow in his hand,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was made off trusti tre:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">An arow, that a cloth yarde was lang,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Toth hard stele hayld he;</div>
-<div class="verse">A dynt that was both sad and soar,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He sat on sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The dynt yt was both sad and sar,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That he of Monggonbyrry sete;</div>
-<div class="verse">The swane-fethars, that his arrowe bar,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With his hart blood the wear wete.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ther was never a freake wone foot wolde fle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But still in stour dyd stand,</div>
-<div class="verse">Heawyng on yche othar, whyll the myght dre,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With many a balfull brande.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This battell begane in Chyviat,<a name="FNanchor_40" id="FNanchor_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And owar before the none,</div>
-<div class="verse">And when even-song bell was rang,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The battell was nat haff done.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The tooke on ethar hand,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Be the lyght off the mone;</div>
-<div class="verse">Many had no strength for to stande,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In Chyviat the hillys abone.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Of fifteen hondrith archars of Ynglonde</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Went away but fifti and thre;</div>
-<div class="verse">Of twenty hondrith spear-men of Skotlonde,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But even five and fifti.<a name="FNanchor_41" id="FNanchor_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But all wear slayne Chyviat within:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The had no strengthe to stand on hy:</div>
-<div class="verse">The chylde may rue that ys unborne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It was the mor pitté.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thear was slayne with the lord Persé,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sir John of Agerstone,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sir Rogar the hinde Hartly,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sir Wyllyam the bolde Hearone.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sir Jorg the worthé Lovele,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A knyght of great renowen,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sir Raff the ryche Rugbè,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With dyntes wear beaten dowene.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For Wetharrynton my harte was wo,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That ever he slayne shulde be;</div>
-<div class="verse">For when both his leggis wear hewyne in to,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Yet he knyled and fought on his kny.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ther was slayne with the doughti Doglas,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sir Hewe the Monggonbyrry,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sir Davy Lwdale that worthè was,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His sisters son was he.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sir Charles a Murrè, in that place,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That never a foot wolde fle;</div>
-<div class="verse">Sir Hewe Maxwell, a lorde he was,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With the Doglas dyd he dey.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So on the morrowe the mayde them byears</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Off birch, and hasell so gray;</div>
-<div class="verse">Many wedous, with wepyng tears,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Cam to fach ther makys away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tivydale may carpe off care,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Northombarlonde may mayke great mon,</div>
-<div class="verse">For towe such captayns, as slayne wear thear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On the march perti shall never be non.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Word ys commyn to Eddenburrowe</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Jamy the Skottishe kyng,</div>
-<div class="verse">That dougheti Doglas, lyff tenante of the merches,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He lay slean Chyviot within.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His handdes dyd he weal and wryng,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He says, Alas, and woe ys me!</div>
-<div class="verse">Such another captayn Skotland within,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He sayd, yefeth shuld never be.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Worde ys commyn to lovly Londone</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Till the fourth Harry our kyng,</div>
-<div class="verse">That lord Persé, ‘leyff’-tenante of the merchis,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He lay slayne Chyviat within.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">God have merci on his soll, sayd kyng Harry,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Good lord, yf thy will it be!</div>
-<div class="verse">I have a hondrith captayns in Ynglonde, he sayd,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As good as ever was he:</div>
-<div class="verse">But, Persé, and I brook my lyffe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thy deth well quyte shall be.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">As our noble kyng made his avowe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lyke a noble prince of renowen,</div>
-<div class="verse">For the deth of the lord Persé,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He dyde the battel of Hombyll-down:<a name="FNanchor_42" id="FNanchor_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Wher syx and thritté Skottish knyghtes</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On a day wear beaten down:</div>
-<div class="verse">Glendale glytteryde on ther armor bryght,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Over castill, towar, and town.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This was the hontynge off the Chyviat;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That tear begane this spurn:</div>
-<div class="verse">Old men, that knowen the grownde well yenoughe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Call it the battell of Otterburn.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At Otterburn began this spurne</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Uppon a Monnyn day:</div>
-<div class="verse">Ther was the doughté Doglas slean,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Persé never went away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ther was never a tym on the march partes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sen the Doglas and the Persé met,</div>
-<div class="verse">But yt was mervele, and the rede blude ronne not,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As the reane doys in the stret.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Jhesue Crist our balys bete,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And to the blys us brynge!</div>
-<div class="verse">Thus was the hountynge of the Chyviat;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">God send us all good endyng!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_40" id="Footnote_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> The Cheviot, or Tiviot Hills, were formerly the boundary
-between England and Scotland.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_41" id="Footnote_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> The English were the first who took the field, and the last to quit
-it. They brought only 1500 to the battle; and the Scotch 2000.
-The English kept the field with 53; the Scotch retiring with 55.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_42" id="Footnote_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> The battle of Hombyll-down, or Humbledon, (a village near
-Wooler, in Northumberland) was fought September 14th, 1402, (anno
-3, Hen. IV.) where the English, under the command of the Earl of
-Northumberland, and his son Hotspur, gained a complete victory
-over the Scots.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE HUNTING IN CHEVY CHASE.</h2>
-
-<p>This favourite old ballad is founded on the celebrated battle of
-Otterbourne, as there never was a Percy engaged with a Douglas, but
-at that time; though the Percy, who commanded at that battle, was
-not earl of Northumberland, yet he was heir to that title, though he
-did not live to enjoy it. Ben Johnson used to say, he had rather have
-been the author of this ballad than of all his works. Sir Philip Sydney
-says, (in his Discourse of Poetry) “I never heard the old song of Piercy
-and Douglas, that I found not my heart more moved than with a
-trumpet; and yet it is sung by some blind crouder, with no rougher
-voice than rude style; which being so evil apparelled in the dust and
-cobweb of that uncivil age, what would it work trimmed in the
-gorgeous eloquence of Pindar?” Addison eulogizes it highly in
-Nos. 70 and 74 of the Spectator. And in the second volume of
-Dryden’s Miscellanies, there may be found a translation of Chevy Chase
-into Latin Rhymes, by Henry Bold, of New College.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">God prosper long our noble king,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our lives and safeties all;</div>
-<div class="verse">A woeful hunting once there did</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In Chevy Chase befall.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To drive the deer with hound and horn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Earl Percy took his way;</div>
-<div class="verse">The child may rue that is unborn</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The hunting of that day.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The stout earl of Northumberland</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A vow to God did make,</div>
-<div class="verse">His pleasure in the Scottish woods</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Three summer’s days to take;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The chiefest harts in Chevy Chase</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To kill and bear away:</div>
-<div class="verse">These tidings to earl Douglas came,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In Scotland where he lay;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Who sent earl Percy present word,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He would prevent his sport:</div>
-<div class="verse">The English earl, not fearing this,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Did to the woods resort,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With fifteen hundred bowmen bold;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">All chosen men of might,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who knew full well, in time of need,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To aim their shafts aright.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To chase the fallow-deer;</div>
-<div class="verse">On Monday they began to hunt,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When day-light did appear;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And, long before high-noon, they had</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A hundred fat bucks slain;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then, having din’d, the drovers went</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To rouse them up again.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The bowmen muster’d on the hills,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Well able to endure;</div>
-<div class="verse">Their backsides all, with special care,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That day were guarded sure.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The hounds ran swiftly through the woods,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The nimble deer to take,</div>
-<div class="verse">And with their cries the hills and dales</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An echo shrill did make.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Lord Percy to the quarry went,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To view the slaughter’d deer;</div>
-<div class="verse">Quoth he, Earl Douglas promised,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">This day to meet me here:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If that I thought he would not come,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">No longer would I stay.</div>
-<div class="verse">With that a brave young gentleman</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thus to the earl did say:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Lo! yonder doth earl Douglas come,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His men in armour bright;</div>
-<div class="verse">Full twenty hundred Scottish spears</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">All marching in our sight;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">All men of pleasant Tividale,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fast by the river Tweed.</div>
-<div class="verse">Then cease your sport, earl Percy said,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And take your bows with speed.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And now with me, my countrymen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Your courage forth advance;</div>
-<div class="verse">For never was there champion yet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In Scotland or in France,</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">That ever did on horseback come,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But if mayhap it were,</div>
-<div class="verse">I durst adventure, man for man,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With him to break a spear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Earl Douglas, on a milk-white steed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Most like a baron bold,</div>
-<div class="verse">Rode foremost of the company,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whose armour shone like gold.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Show me, said he, whose men you be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That hunt so boldly here;</div>
-<div class="verse">That, without my consent, do chase,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And kill my fallow deer.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The man that first did answer make,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was noble Percy, he;</div>
-<div class="verse">Who said, We list not to declare,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor show whose men we be:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yet we will spend our dearest blood,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thy chiefest hearts to slay.</div>
-<div class="verse">Then Douglas swore a solemn oath,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And thus in rage did say:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ere thus I will outbraved be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">One of us two shall die;</div>
-<div class="verse">I know thee well, an earl thou art,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lord Percy, so am I.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But trust me, Percy, pity it were,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And great offence to kill</div>
-<div class="verse">Any of these our harmless men,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For they have done no ill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Let thou and I the battle try,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And set our men aside.</div>
-<div class="verse">Accurs’d be he, lord Percy said,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By whom this is deny’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then stepp’d a gallant ’squire forth,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Witherington was his name,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who said, I would not have it told</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Henry our king, for shame,</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">That e’er my captain fought on foot,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And I stood looking on:</div>
-<div class="verse">You be two earls, said Witherington,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And I a squire alone:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I’ll do the best that do I may,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">While I have strength to stand;</div>
-<div class="verse">While I have pow’r to wield my sword,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’ll fight with heart and hand.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our English archers bent their bows,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their hearts were good and true;</div>
-<div class="verse">At the first flight of arrows sent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Full three-score Scots they slew.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To drive the deer with hound and horn</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Earl Douglas had the bent;</div>
-<div class="verse">A captain mov’d with mickle pride,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The spears to shivers sent.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They clos’d full fast on every side,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">No slackness there was found;</div>
-<div class="verse">And many a gallant gentleman</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lay gasping on the ground.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O Christ! it was a grief to see,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And likewise for to hear</div>
-<div class="verse">The cries of men lying in their gore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And scatter’d here and there.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At last these two stout earls did meet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Like captains of great might;</div>
-<div class="verse">Like lions mov’d, they laid on load,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And made a cruel fight.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They fought until they both did sweat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With swords of temper’d steel;</div>
-<div class="verse">Until the blood, like drops of rain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They trickling down did feel.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yield thee, lord Percy, Douglas said,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In faith I will thee bring,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where thou shall high advanced be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By James our Scotish king:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thy ransom I will freely give,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And thus report of thee,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thou art the most courageous knight</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That ever I did see.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No, Douglas, quoth earl Percy then,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thy proffer I do scorn;</div>
-<div class="verse">I will not yield to any Scot</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That ever yet was born.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With that there came an arrow keen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Out of an English bow,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which struck earl Douglas to the heart,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A deep and deadly blow:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Who never spoke more words than these,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Fight on my merry men all;</div>
-<div class="verse">For why, my life is at an end,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lord Percy sees my fall.”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then leaving life, earl Percy took</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The dead man by the hand,</div>
-<div class="verse">And said, “Earl Douglas, for thy life</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Would I had lost my land!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O Christ! my very heart doth bleed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With sorrow for thy sake;</div>
-<div class="verse">For sure a more renowned knight</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Mischance did never take.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A knight amongst the Scots there was,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which saw earl Douglas die,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who straight in wrath did vow revenge</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Upon the earl Percy:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sir Hugh Montgomery was he call’d;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who with a spear most bright,</div>
-<div class="verse">Well mounted on a gallant steed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ran fiercely through the fight;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And pass’d the English archers all,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Without all dread or fear;</div>
-<div class="verse">And through earl Percy’s body then</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He thrust his hateful spear:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With such a vehement force and might</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He did his body gore,</div>
-<div class="verse">The spear went through the other side</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A large cloth-yard, and more.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So thus did both these nobles die,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whose courage none could stain:</div>
-<div class="verse">An English archer then perceiv’d</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The noble earl was slain:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He had a bow bent in his hand,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Made of a trusty tree;</div>
-<div class="verse">An arrow of a cloth-yard long</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Up to the head drew he:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Against sir Hugh Montgomery,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So right the shaft he set,</div>
-<div class="verse">The grey-goose-wing that was thereon</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In his heart-blood was wet.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This fight did last from break of day</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Till setting of the sun;</div>
-<div class="verse">For when they rung the evening-bell</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The battle scarce was done.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With the earl Percy there was slain</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sir John of Ogerton,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sir Robert Radclyffe, and sir John,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sir James that bold baron:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And, with sir George, and good sir James,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Both knights of good account,</div>
-<div class="verse">Good sir Ralph Raby there was slain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whose prowess did surmount.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For Witherington needs must I wail,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As one in doleful dumps;</div>
-<div class="verse">For when his legs were smitten off,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He fought upon his stumps.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And with earl Douglas there was slain</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sir Hugh Montgomery,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sir Charles Currel, that from the field</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">One foot would never fly;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sir Charles Murrel of Ratcliffe too,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His sister’s son was he;</div>
-<div class="verse">Sir David Lamb, so well esteem’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Yet saved could not be.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And the lord Maxwell, in likewise,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Did with earl Douglas die:</div>
-<div class="verse">Of twenty hundred Scottish spears</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Scarce fifty-five did fly.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Went home but fifty-three:</div>
-<div class="verse">The rest were slain in Chevy Chase,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Under the greenwood tree.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Next day did many widows come,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their husbands to bewail;</div>
-<div class="verse">They wash’d their wounds in brinish tears</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But all would not prevail.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Their bodies, bath’d in purple blood,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They bore with them away;</div>
-<div class="verse">They kiss’d them dead a thousand times,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When they were clad in clay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This news was brought to Edinburgh,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where Scotland’s king did reign,</div>
-<div class="verse">That brave earl Douglas suddenly</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was with an arrow slain.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O heavy news! king James did say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Scotland can witness be,</div>
-<div class="verse">I have not any captain more</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of such account as he.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Like tidings to king Henry came,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Within as short a space,</div>
-<div class="verse">That Percy of Northumberland</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was slain in Chevy Chase.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now God be with him! said our king,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sith ’twill no better be;</div>
-<div class="verse">I trust I have within my realm</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Five hundred as good as he.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yet shall not Scot nor Scotland say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But I will vengeance take;</div>
-<div class="verse">And be revenged on them all,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For brave lord Percy’s sake.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This vow full well the king perform’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">After, on Humble-down;</div>
-<div class="verse">In one day fifty knights were slain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With lords of great renown;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And of the rest, of small account,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Did many hundreds die.</div>
-<div class="verse">Thus ended the hunting of Chevy Chase,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Made by the earl Percy.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">God save the king, and bless the land</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In plenty, joy, and peace;</div>
-<div class="verse">And grant, henceforth, that foul debate</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Twixt noblemen may cease.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>AN OLD SONG ON THE BATTLE OF
-FLODDEN.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I Have heard of a lilting, at our ewes’ milking,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lasses a lilting, before the break of day;</div>
-<div class="verse">But now there’s a moaning, on ilka green loaning,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That our braw forresters are a’ wede away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At boughts, in the morning, nae blyth lads are scorning;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The lasses are lonely, dowie, and wae;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nae daffin, nae gabbin, but sighing and sabbing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ilka ane lifts her leglen, and hies her away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At e’en at the gloming, nae swankies are roaming,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Mong stacks, with the lasses, at bogle to play;</div>
-<div class="verse">But ilka ane sits dreary, lamenting her deary,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Flowers of the Forest that are a’ wede away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At harrest, at the shearing, nae youngsters are jeering,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The bansters are runkled, lyart, and grey.</div>
-<div class="verse">At a fair, or a preaching, nae wooing, nae fleeching,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Since our braw forresters are a’ wede away.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O dool for the order, sent our lads to the border:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The English for anes by guile gat the day.</div>
-<div class="verse">The Flowers of the Forrest, that ay shone the foremost,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The prime of our land, lies cauld in the clay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We’ll hear nae mair lilting, at our ewes’ milking,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The women and bairns are dowie, and wae.</div>
-<div class="verse">Sighing and moaning, on ilka green loaning,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Since our braw forresters are a’ wede away.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST;<br />
-<i>Or, Flodden Field</i>.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">(Fought September 9th, 1513.)</p>
-
-<p>This version is made up from various copies of this old ballad
-collated, and is of very unequal merit. The stanzas, from the 17th
-to the 22d inclusive, compose a dirge of the most beautiful and pathetic
-simplicity. The circumstances are happily chosen and combined; and
-the language, to those who understand it, is so picturesquely expressive,
-that while we read the words, the scene is felt penciled on our imagination.
-And it is impossible to peruse it without feeling a high
-degree of that pleasing sombre tenderness, which it is the object of this sort of
-poetry to produce.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">From Spey to the border,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Was peace and good order;</div>
-<div class="verse">The sway of our monarch was mild as the May;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Peace he adored,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Whilk Soudrons abhorred,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our marches they plunder, our wardens they slay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">’Gainst <span class="smcap">Louis</span>, our ally,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Their <span class="smcap">Henry</span> did sally,</div>
-<div class="verse">Tho’ <span class="smcap">James</span>, but in vain, did his herauld advance,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Renouncing alliance,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Denouncing defiance,</div>
-<div class="verse">To Soudrons, if langer abiding in France.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">Many were the omens,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Our ruin was coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">E’er the flower of our nation was call’d to array:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Our king at devotion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">St Andrew did caution,</div>
-<div class="verse">And sigh’d as with sorrow he to him did say,&mdash;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">Sir, in this expedition,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">You must have ambition;</div>
-<div class="verse">From the company of women you shou’d keep away.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">When the spectre this declar’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">It quickly disappear’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">But where it retired no man could espy.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">The flowers of the nation</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Were call’d to their station,</div>
-<div class="verse">With valiant inclination their banners to display;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">To Burrow-Muir resorting;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Their right for supporting,</div>
-<div class="verse">And there rendevouzing, encamped did lay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">But another bad omen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">That vengeance was coming;</div>
-<div class="verse">At midnight, in Edinburgh, a voice loud did cry,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">As heraulds, in their station,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">With loud proclamation,</div>
-<div class="verse">Did name all our barons in England to die.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">These words the demon spoke,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">At the throne of Plotcock,</div>
-<div class="verse">It charg’d their appearing, appointing the day:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The provost, in its hearing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The summons greatly fearing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Appeal’d to his Maker, the same did deny.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">At this were many griev’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">As many misbeliev’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">But forward they march’d to their destiny:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">From thence to the border,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">They march’d in good order,</div>
-<div class="verse">The Merse-men and Forrest they join’d the array.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">England’s invasion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">It was their persuasion,</div>
-<div class="verse">To make restitution for their cruelty;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">But O fatal Flodoun!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">There came the wo down;</div>
-<div class="verse">And our royal nation was brought to decay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">After spoiling and burning,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Many hameward returning,</div>
-<div class="verse">With our king still the nobles and vassals abide:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">To <span class="smcap">Surrey’s</span> proud vaunting,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">He answers but daunting;</div>
-<div class="verse">The king would await him whatever betide.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">The English advanced</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">To where they were stanced;</div>
-<div class="verse">Half-intrenched by nature, the field it so lay:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">To fight the English fearing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And sham’d their retiring;</div>
-<div class="verse">But alas! unperceived was their subtilty.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">Our Highland battalion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">So forward and valiant,</div>
-<div class="verse">They broke from their ranks, and they rush’d on to slay:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">With hacking and slashing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And broad swords a-dashing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thro’ the front of the English they cut a full way.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">But, alas! to their ruin,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">An ambush pursuing,</div>
-<div class="verse">They were surrounded with numbers too high:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The Merse-men and Forest,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">They suff’red the sorest,</div>
-<div class="verse">Upon the left wing were inclos’d the same way.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">Our men into parties,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The battle in three quarters,</div>
-<div class="verse">Upon our main body the marksmen did play:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
-<div class="verse indent4">The spearmen were surrounded.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And all were confounded;</div>
-<div class="verse">The fatal devastation of that woful day!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">Our nobles all ensnared,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Our king he was not spared;</div>
-<div class="verse">For of that fate he shared, and would not run away;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The whole were intercepted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">That very few escaped</div>
-<div class="verse">The fatal conflagration of that woful day.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">This set the whole nation</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Into grief and vexation:</div>
-<div class="verse">The widows did weep, and the maidens did say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Why tarries my lover?</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The battle’s surely over?</div>
-<div class="verse">Is there none left to tell us the fates of the day?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">I’ve heard a lilting,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">At our ewes’ milking,</div>
-<div class="verse">Lasses a-lilting afore the break of day;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">But now there’s a moaning,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">On ilka green loaning,</div>
-<div class="verse">Since our bra foresters are a’ wed away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">At boughts i’ the morning,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Nae blyth lads are scorning;</div>
-<div class="verse">The lasses are lonely, dowie, and wae;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Nae daffin, nae gabbin,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">But sighing and sabbing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ilk ane lifts her leglen, and hies her away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">At e’en in the glomin,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Nae swankeys are roaming,</div>
-<div class="verse">’Mang stacks, wi’ the lasses, at bogle to play;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">But ilk ane sits dreary,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Lamenting her deary,</div>
-<div class="verse">The flowers of the Forest that are wed away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">In herst, at the shearing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Nae younkers are jeering;</div>
-<div class="verse">The bansters are lyart, runkled, and grey:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>
-<div class="verse indent4">At fairs nor at preaching,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Nae wooing, nae fleeching,</div>
-<div class="verse">Since our bra’ Foresters are a’ wed away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">O dool for the order,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sent our lads to the border!</div>
-<div class="verse">The English for anes by guile got the day:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The Flowers of the Forest,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">That ay shone the foremost,</div>
-<div class="verse">The prime of our land lies cauld in the clay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">We’ll hear nae mair lilting,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">At our ewes’ milking:</div>
-<div class="verse">The women and bairns are dowie and wae,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sighing and moaning,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">On ilka green loaning,</div>
-<div class="verse">Since our bra Foresters are a’ wed away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">I’ve seen the smiling</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Of fortune beguiling;</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ve felt all her favours, and found her decay:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sweet is her blessing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And kind her caressing;</div>
-<div class="verse">But now it is fled, it is fled far away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">I’ve seen the forest</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Adorned the foremost,</div>
-<div class="verse">With flowers of the fairest both pleasant and gay:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sae bonny was their blooming,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Their scent the air perfuming;</div>
-<div class="verse">But now they are withered, and all gone away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">I’ve seen the morning,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">With gold the hills adorning,</div>
-<div class="verse">And loud tempests storming before mid-day:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">I’ve seen Tweed’s silver streams</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Shining i’ the sunny beams,</div>
-<div class="verse">Grow drumly and dark as it roll’d on the way.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">O fickle fortune!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Why this cruel sporting?</div>
-<div class="verse">Why this perplexing poor sons of a day?</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Thy frowns cannot fear me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Nor smiles cannot chear me,</div>
-<div class="verse">Since the Flowers of the Forest are a’ wed away.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>VERSES<br />
-<i>ON JAMES THE IVth, OF SCOTLAND</i>.<br />
-Who fell at the Battle of Flodden.</h2>
-
-<p>Among the various antiquities preserved in the Heralds College,
-London, there are the Sword, Dagger, and Turquois Ring, of James
-the IVth, of Scotland, slain at the battle of Flodden.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">’Twas he that rul’d his Country’s heart</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With more than Royal sway&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">But Scotland saw her James depart,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And sadden’d at his stay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">She heard his fate&mdash;she wept her grief&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">That James, her own, her darling Chief,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Was gone for evermore.</div>
-<div class="verse">But this she learnt, that e’er he fell,</div>
-<div class="verse">(Oh, Men! Oh, Patriots! mark it well)</div>
-<div class="verse">His Fellow Soldiers round his fall,</div>
-<div class="verse">Enclos’d him like a living wall,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Mixing their friendly gore.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Nor was the day of Flodden done,</div>
-<div class="verse">’Till they were slaughter’d, one by one,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And this may serve to shew&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">When Kings are Patriots none will fly:</div>
-<div class="verse">When such a King was doom’d to die,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Oh, who would Death forego?</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE BATTLE OF REID SQUAIR.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">(Fought July 7th, 1576.)</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">On July seventh, the suthe to say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At the Reid Squair the tryst was set.</div>
-<div class="verse">Our wardens they affixt the day,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And as they promist, sae they met:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Allace! that day I’ll neir forzet,</div>
-<div class="verse">Was sure sae feir’d, and then sae fain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They cam thair justice for to get,</div>
-<div class="verse">Will nevir grein to cum again.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Carmichael</span> was our warden then,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He causit the countrey to convene,</div>
-<div class="verse">And the laird <span class="smcap">Watt</span>, that worthy man,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Brocht in his surname weil be sene:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The <span class="smcap">Armstrangs</span> that ay haif bene</div>
-<div class="verse">A hardy house, but not a hail;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The <span class="smcap">Elliotts</span> honours to mentain,</div>
-<div class="verse">Brought in the laif of <span class="smcap">Liddisdale</span>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then <span class="smcap">Twidail</span> came to with speid,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Scheriff brocht the <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> doun,</div>
-<div class="verse">With <span class="smcap">Cranstane</span>, <span class="smcap">Gladstane</span>, gude at neid,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Baith Rewls-water and Hawick Town.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1"><span class="smcap">Beangeddert</span> bauldly maid him boun,</div>
-<div class="verse">With all the <span class="smcap">Trumbles</span> strang and stout;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The <span class="smcap">Ruthirfuirds</span>, with grit renoun,</div>
-<div class="verse">Convoyit the town of Jedbruch out.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With other Clanns I can nocht tell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Because our wairning was nocht wyde,</div>
-<div class="verse">Be this our folk hes tane the fell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And plantit pallions thair to byde:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We lukit down the uther syde,</div>
-<div class="verse">And saw cum briesting owr the brae,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Sir <span class="smcap">George Foster</span> was thair gyde,</div>
-<div class="verse">With fyftene hundrid men and mae.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">It greivt him sair that day I trow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With Sir <span class="smcap">John Hinrome</span> of Schipsydehouse,</div>
-<div class="verse">Because we were not men enow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He counted us not worth a souse;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sir <span class="smcap">George</span> was gentil, meik, and douse,</div>
-<div class="verse">But he was hail and het as fyre:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But zit for all his cracking crouse,</div>
-<div class="verse">He rewd the raid of the Reid Squyre.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To deil with proud men is but pain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For ether ze maun ficht or flie,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or els nae answer mack again,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But play the beist, and let him be.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It was nae wondir tho’ he was hie,</div>
-<div class="verse">Had <span class="smcap">Tyndall</span>, <span class="smcap">Redsdaile</span> at his hand,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With <span class="smcap">Cucksdaile</span>, <span class="smcap">Gladsdaile</span> on the lie,</div>
-<div class="verse">Auld <span class="smcap">Hebsrime</span> and <span class="smcap">Northumberland</span>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Zit was our meeting meik enough,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Begun with mirriness and mows,</div>
-<div class="verse">And at the brae abune the heugh</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The clerk sat doun to call the rows,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And sum for ky and sum for ewis,</div>
-<div class="verse">Callit in of <span class="smcap">Dandrie Hob</span> and <span class="smcap">Jock</span>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I saw cum merching owre the knows,</div>
-<div class="verse">Fyve hundred <span class="smcap">Fennicks</span> in a flock.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With jack and speir, and bowis all bent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And warlike weaponis at their will;</div>
-<div class="verse">Howbeit they wer not weil content,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Zit be me trouth we feird nae ill:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sum zeid to drink, and sum stude still,</div>
-<div class="verse">And sum to cards and dyce them sped,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Quhyle on ane Farstein they fyld a bill,</div>
-<div class="verse">And he was fugitive that fled.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Carmichael</span> bad them speik out plainly,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And cloke nae cause for ill nor gude,</div>
-<div class="verse">The uther answering him full vainly,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Begouth to reckon kin and blude,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>
-<div class="verse indent1">He raise and rax’d him quhair he stude,</div>
-<div class="verse">And bade him match him with his marrows;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then <span class="smcap">Tyndal</span> hard these reseuns rude,</div>
-<div class="verse">And they lute aff a flight of arrows.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then was ther nocht but bow and speir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And ilka man pullit out a brand,</div>
-<div class="verse">A <span class="smcap">Schaftan</span> and a <span class="smcap">Fennick</span> their,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Gude <span class="smcap">Symington</span> was slain frae hand.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Scotismen cryd on uther to stand,</div>
-<div class="verse">Frae tyme they saw <span class="smcap">John Robson</span> slain:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Quhat suld they cry! The King’s command</div>
-<div class="verse">Culd cause nae cowards turn again.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Up raise the laird to red the cumber,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Quhilk wald not be for all his boist,</div>
-<div class="verse">Quhat suld we do with sic a number,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fyve thousand men into an hoist?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then <span class="smcap">Henrie Purdie</span> proud hes cost,</div>
-<div class="verse">And verie narrowlie had mischiefd him,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And ther we had our <span class="smcap">Warden</span> lost,</div>
-<div class="verse">Wart not the grit <span class="smcap">God</span> he relievd him.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ane uther throw the breiks him bair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Quhyle flatlines to the ground he fell:</div>
-<div class="verse">Then thocht I, we had lost him thair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Into my heart it struck a knell;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Zit up he raise, the truth to tell,</div>
-<div class="verse">And laid about him dunts full dour,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His horsemen they faucht stout and snell,</div>
-<div class="verse">And stude about him in the stour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then raisd the slogan with an schout,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fy, <span class="smcap">Tyndall</span> to it, <span class="smcap">Jedbrugh</span> heir;</div>
-<div class="verse">I trow he was not half sae stout,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But anes his stomach was a steir,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With gun and genzie, bow and spier,</div>
-<div class="verse">He micht se mony a crakit crown,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But up amang the merchant gier,</div>
-<div class="verse">They bussie were as we wer doun.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The swallow-tails frae teckles flew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fyve hundred slain into the flicht,</div>
-<div class="verse">But we had pestellets anew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And schot amang them as we micht.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With help of <span class="smcap">God</span> the game gade richt,</div>
-<div class="verse">Frae tyme the foremost of them fell;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Hynd owre the know, without gude-nicht,</div>
-<div class="verse">They ran with mony a schout and zell.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And after they had turnd again,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Zit <span class="smcap">Tyndall</span> men they turnd again,</div>
-<div class="verse">And had not bene the merchant packs,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">There had bene mae of Scotland slain:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But <span class="smcap">Jesu</span> gif the folk was fain</div>
-<div class="verse">No put the bussing on thair theis,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And sae they fled with all thair main,</div>
-<div class="verse">Doun owre the brae lyke clogged beis.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sir <span class="smcap">Francis Russel</span> tane was thair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And hurt, as we heir men reherse;</div>
-<div class="verse">Proud <span class="smcap">Wallingtoun</span> was wounded sair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Albeit he was a Fennick ferss,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But gif ze wald a souldier serche</div>
-<div class="verse">Amang them all was tane that night,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was nane sae wordie of our verse</div>
-<div class="verse">As <span class="smcap">Colingwood</span> that courteous knight.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Zung <span class="smcap">Henry</span> skapit hame, is hurt,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A souldier schot him with a bow,</div>
-<div class="verse">Scotland has cause to make great sturt,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For laiming of the Laird of Mow.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Laird <span class="smcap">Watt</span> did weil indeid,</div>
-<div class="verse">His friends stude stoutly by himsell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With little <span class="smcap">Gladstone</span>, gude in neid,</div>
-<div class="verse">For <span class="smcap">Gretein</span> kend not gude be ill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The <span class="smcap">Scheriff</span> wantit not gude-will,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Howbeit he might not ficht sae fast:</div>
-<div class="verse"><span class="smcap">Benjeadert</span>, <span class="smcap">Hundlie</span> and <span class="smcap">Hunthill</span>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Three, on they laid well at the last</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>
-<div class="verse indent1">Except the horsemen of the gaird:</div>
-<div class="verse">If I could put men to avail,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nane stoutlier stude out for their laird,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor did the lads of <span class="smcap">Liddisdale</span>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But little harness had we thair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But auld <span class="smcap">Badrule</span> had on a jack,</div>
-<div class="verse">And did richt weil, I zou declair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With all the <span class="smcap">Trumbulls</span> at his back.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Gude <span class="smcap">Ederstane</span> was not to lack,</div>
-<div class="verse">With <span class="smcap">Kirtoun</span>, <span class="smcap">Newtoun</span>, nobill-men.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thir is ail the specials I haif spack,</div>
-<div class="verse">Forby them that I could nocht ken.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Qhua did invent that day of play,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We neid nocht feir to find him sune,</div>
-<div class="verse">For Sir <span class="smcap">John Foster</span>, I dare weil say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Maid us that noysome afternune:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Not that I speik precisely out,</div>
-<div class="verse">That he supposd it wald be perill,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But pryde and breaking out, but dout,</div>
-<div class="verse">Gart <span class="smcap">Tyndall</span> lads begin the quarrell.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>FAIR ‘MABEL’ OF WALLINGTON.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When we were silly sisters seven, sisters [we] were so fair.</div>
-<div class="verse">Five of us were brave knights wives, and died in child-bed sair,</div>
-<div class="verse">Up then spake fair ‘Mabel’, marry would she nane.</div>
-<div class="verse">If ever she came in man’s bed the same gate wad she gang.</div>
-<div class="verse">Make no vows, fair ‘Mabel’, for fear they broken be,</div>
-<div class="verse">Here’s been the knight of Wallington asking good-will of thee.</div>
-<div class="verse">Here’s been the knight [of Wallington] mother, asking good-will of me;</div>
-<div class="verse">Within three-quarters of a year you may come bury me.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When she came to Wallington, and into Wallington-hall,</div>
-<div class="verse">There she spy’d her mother dear walking about the wall.</div>
-<div class="verse">You’re welcome, daughter dear, to thy castle and thy bower.</div>
-<div class="verse">I thank you kindly, mother, I hope they’ll soon be your’s.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">She had not been in Wallington three-quarters and a day,</div>
-<div class="verse">Till upon the ground she could not walk, she was a weary prey;</div>
-<div class="verse">She had not been in Wallington three-quarters and a night,</div>
-<div class="verse">Till on the ground she cou’d not walk, she was a weary ‘wight.’</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Is there ne’er a boy in this town who’ll win hose and shun,</div>
-<div class="verse">That will run to fair Pudlington, and bid my mother come?</div>
-<div class="verse">Up then spake a little boy, near unto [her] a-kin,</div>
-<div class="verse">Full oft I have your errands gone, but now I will it run.</div>
-<div class="verse">Then she call’d her waiting-maid to bring up bread and wine:</div>
-<div class="verse">Eat and drink, thou bonny boy, thou’ll ne’er eat more of mine:</div>
-<div class="verse">Give my respects to my mother, as [she] ‘sits’ in her chair of stone,</div>
-<div class="verse">And ask her how she likes the news of seven to have but one.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Give my love to my brother William, Ralph, and John;</div>
-<div class="verse">And to my sister Betty fair, and to her white as bone,</div>
-<div class="verse">And bid her keep her maidenhead, be sure to make much on’t,</div>
-<div class="verse">For if e’er she come in man’s bed, the same gate will she gang.</div>
-<div class="verse">Away this little boy is gone as fast as he could run,</div>
-<div class="verse">When he came where brigs were broke, he lay down and ‘swum.’</div>
-<div class="verse">When he saw the lady, he said, Lord may your keeper be!</div>
-<div class="verse">What news, my pretty boy, ‘hast’ thou to tell to me?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Your daughter ‘Mabel’ orders me, as you sit in a chair of stone,</div>
-<div class="verse">To ask you how you like the news of seven to have but one;</div>
-<div class="verse">Your daughter gives commands as you sit in a chair of ‘state,’</div>
-<div class="verse">And bids you come to her sickening, her ‘weary’ lake-wake:</div>
-<div class="verse">She gives command to her brother William, Ralph, and John;</div>
-<div class="verse">To her sister Betty fair, and to her white [as] bone,</div>
-<div class="verse">She bids her keep her maidenhead, besure make much on’t,</div>
-<div class="verse">For if e’er she come in man’s bed the same gate wou’d she gang.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">She kickt the table with her foot, she kickt it with her knee,</div>
-<div class="verse">The silver plate into the fire so far she made it flee:</div>
-<div class="verse">Then she call’d her waiting-maid to bring her riding-hood,</div>
-<div class="verse">So did she on her stable-groom to bring her ‘stead so good:’</div>
-<div class="verse">Go saddle to me the black, go saddle to me the brown,</div>
-<div class="verse">Go saddle to me the swiftest steed that e’er rid Wallington,</div>
-<div class="verse">When she came to Wallington, and into Wallington-hall,</div>
-<div class="verse">There she espy’d her son Fenwick walking about the wall.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">God save you, dear son, Lord may your keeper be!</div>
-<div class="verse">Where is my daughter fair, that used to walk with thee?</div>
-<div class="verse">He turn’d his head round about, the tears did fill his eye;</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis a month, he said, since she took her chambers from me.</div>
-<div class="verse">She went on, and there were in the hall</div>
-<div class="verse">Four and twenty ladies letting the tears down fall:</div>
-<div class="verse">Her daughter had a scope into her chest, and into her chin,</div>
-<div class="verse">All to keep her life till her dear mother came therein.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come take the rings off my finger, the skin it is so white,</div>
-<div class="verse">And give them to my mother dear, for she was all the ‘weight;’</div>
-<div class="verse">Come take the rings off my fingers, the veins are so red,</div>
-<div class="verse">Give them to sir William Fenwick, I’m sure his heart will bleed.</div>
-<div class="verse">She took out a razor, that was sharp and fine,</div>
-<div class="verse">And out of her left side she has taken the heir of Wallington,</div>
-<div class="verse">There is a race in Wallington, and that I rue full sare,</div>
-<div class="verse">Tho’ the cradle it be full spread up, the bride-bed is left bare.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;">
-<img src="images/footer-phoenix.jpg" width="150" height="136" alt="A phoenix (decorative footer)" />
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>VERSES</h2>
-
-<p><i>On a View of Roadley Castle, not far from Wallington, in
-Northumberland, built by the late worthy Sir Walter Blackett,
-Bart, with a small Description of its Situation, comprehending
-Codgy Fort, the Lake, the noted Greenlighton Hill,
-&amp;c. by Thomas Oliver, of Hallington, Northumberland, taken
-before the Deer were destroyed in the Park, wherein the
-Castle stands, soon after the Death of Sir Walter Blackett.</i></p>
-
-<p>Hutchinson, in his History of Northumberland, appears not to
-have liked Roadley or Rothley Castle: he finishes his description of it
-by saying, it would be “pretty enough for the reception of Thomas of
-Hick-a-thrift, or Jack the Giant Killer.”</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s Roadley’s ‘cloud capt’ lofty hill,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With humble dales below;</div>
-<div class="verse">The mighty crags its front do fill,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">White as if flect with snow.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">These rugged rocks rough Boreas scorn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor blust’ring Æolus dread:</div>
-<div class="verse">Some as by Noah’s deluge torn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From their huge massy bed.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Upon its airy summit high,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An antique tower appears,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who to the stranger passing by,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Seems ag’d a thousand years.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thus in its melancholy state,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A Windsor’s view commands;</div>
-<div class="verse">And to defend the brazen gate,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Cæsar and Pompey stands.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Within the compass of an eye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sweet rising scenes appear:</div>
-<div class="verse">There fleecy flocks a feeding by,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With stately herds of deer.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But when with more extended rays,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Your circling eyes you guide:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Nature fresh beauties still displays,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From Blyth to Symmon Side.<a name="FNanchor_43" id="FNanchor_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Nor far from hence stands Codgy Fort,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Built on a craggy hill;</div>
-<div class="verse">Where hawks, and daws, and owls resort,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And wild blue pigeons bill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Bordering, a sloping raggy brake,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Spreading, appears in sight;</div>
-<div class="verse">A deep extensive, warping lake,<a name="FNanchor_44" id="FNanchor_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With water birds on flight.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">While numbers on the surface float,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Down diving o’er and o’er:</div>
-<div class="verse">With bumpkins in the pleasure boat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Launching from shore to shore.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Grey game, and Grouse in num’rous broods,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">About Greenlighton Hill;</div>
-<div class="verse">Where piping Pan his flocks he feeds,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Around that humble vill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">By dawn of day, Mary and Bett,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Hies to the birney knows;</div>
-<div class="verse">Where blithsome many a morn we’ve met,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At milking of the ewes.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">By Maria’s mean courtesy taught,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When flocks did chance to roam;</div>
-<div class="verse">I wore them to the milking Bought,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And bore her leglin home.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_43" id="Footnote_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> The view is extensive, from here may be seen the Symon Side
-Hills on one side, to the town of Blyth on the other.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_44" id="Footnote_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> At the foot of the hill on which the castle stands, near the north-west
-corner of the park, are two fine sheets of water, communicating
-with each other, called <i>Rothly Ponds</i>. Formerly they were tastefully
-ornamented by a shrubbery, which was disposed round the margin of
-the water. A boat and fishing tackling were formerly kept here, and
-a tent was pitched in the summer near the lakes, where visitants were
-plentifully regaled by the late generous proprietor, who frequently
-amused himself at this place. <i>Vide</i> p. 105, v. 2, of Northumberland,
-1811.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE BATTLE OF HUMBLEDOWN HILL.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">(<i>By E.W. August 5th, 1791.</i>)</p>
-
-<p>The author of this suggested the idea from reading the verse of
-Chevy Chace:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“This vow full well the King perform’d</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">After, on Humbledown,</div>
-<div class="verse">In one day fifty Knights were slain</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With Lords of great renown.”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>In the second volume of Guthrie’s History of Scotland, the battle is
-fully described.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sir Swinton was a doughty knight</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As ever Scotland bred;</div>
-<div class="verse">Than Gordon none more brave in fight,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Did ever cross the Tweed.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But deidly feuds subsisted long</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Between these valiant twain,</div>
-<div class="verse">They never met&mdash;but straight they fought</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With all their martial train.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At last they hied with ilk his band</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Brae of Humbledown,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where Douglas and his army lay</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wi’ Knights of great renown.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now baith afore the Douglas stood,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And glowr’d wi’ hatefu’ spite,</div>
-<div class="verse">And half unsheath’d their shining blades,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And quak’d and burn’d to fight.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then mighty Douglas leap’d between</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To redd the foul debate,</div>
-<div class="verse">“O Sirs!” he cries, “thrust in your glaives</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And quell this rising state.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“For, look you! where the English lies</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On yonder tented field,</div>
-<div class="verse">To morrow’s morn, if right I ween,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We’ll need both sword and sheild.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Gin we to Scotland mean to go,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our road lies thro’ yon host;</div>
-<div class="verse">First spend your fury on the foe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then fight&mdash;if fight ye must.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He spake&mdash;in sullens baith withdrew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Now all prepare for fight,</div>
-<div class="verse">And arms and armour clattering brake</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The silence of the night.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In bluid red clouds the Sun arose,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which saw that fatal day,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where bretheless on the green hill side</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fu’ many a bra’ Scot lay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For sair&mdash;the English bowmen gall’d</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The van&mdash;the ungear’d stood,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nae thirsty shaft e’er reach’d the earth</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Unstain’d wi’ Scottish bluid.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then Sir John Swinton loudly cries</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Bra’ lads! gif we must die,</div>
-<div class="verse">Follow our cheif, and syne our foes</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Shall bear us companie.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">These words when Adam Gordon heard,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He hastens to the place,</div>
-<div class="verse">“When our dear country claims our aid</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Let all our quarrels cease.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“For, mine are gone&mdash;most valiant Knight!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And now a boon I crave&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">That frae thy noble arm&mdash;the meed</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of Knighthood I must have.”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“And mine for aye!”&mdash;replies Sir John,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And to his breast him drew;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then dubb’d him Knight, while deidly flight</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of arrows round them flew.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then wi’ their men, these valiant twain</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Rush’d down the green hill’s side,</div>
-<div class="verse">And ’mongst their foes, wi’ mortal blows</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their hands in bluid they dy’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Like two huge rocks on Bramor’s brow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When loossen’d fra’ their bed,</div>
-<div class="verse">That thunder down and overthrow</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The pines which crown the glade.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thus they, thro’ ranks, the Earl of March</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And the bold Percies fought,</div>
-<div class="verse">And bluid and carnage mark’d their path</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where’er they step’d and fought.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At length they’re wi’ their gallant train</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By numbers compass’d round,</div>
-<div class="verse">And fighting fall on heaps of slain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And stain with gore the ground.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thus did these valiant cheiftains fall</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who liv’d in mortal strife,</div>
-<div class="verse">But lock’d in one another’s arms,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Dear friendship clos’d their life.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And now the Scottish lines were broke</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wi’ rout and disarray,</div>
-<div class="verse">And many a man was lost in [Tweed]</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That strove to flee that day.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The mighty Douglas too was ta’en</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For ne’er a foot he’d flee,</div>
-<div class="verse">But first five greevous wounds he got</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And also lost an eye.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With Gordon and with Swinton fell</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sir John of Callender,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sir Ramsay of Dalhousie too,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Sir Walter Sinclair.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And Roger Gordon likewise died,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wi’ Walter Scot sae brave,</div>
-<div class="verse">And many more of note beside</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whom valour cou’d not save.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But past all count, the pris’ners were</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wi’ doughty Douglas ta’en,</div>
-<div class="verse">Fife, Murray, Angus, Orkney Earls,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lord Graham and Erskine.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With eighty Knights and many more</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Than can ee’ now be told,</div>
-<div class="verse">All captives led, for ransome sett</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By Harry Hotspur bold.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Fra’ Forth to Tweed, a swankie blade</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was then a sight to see,</div>
-<div class="verse">The co’uter left in half plough’d lidge</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lay rusting in the lee.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">God prosper Scotland, let us say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And grant our wars be done,</div>
-<div class="verse">And may we ne’er see sic a day</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As that of Humbledown.<a name="FNanchor_45" id="FNanchor_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_45" id="Footnote_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> In the plain beneath the hill and village of Humbledown or
-Humbleton is a stone pillar, denoting the ground where 10,000 of the
-Scots, under Earl Douglas, in the reign of King Henry IV, on Holyrood-day,
-1402, had a great overthrow, by Henry Lord Percy and
-George Earl of March. Douglas had entered England about the
-middle of August, and destroyed and plundered the country as far as
-Newcastle. On his return to Scotland he was intercepted by Earl
-Percy, and was obliged to engage on this plain: the battle was so
-bloody that the lands gained the name of Redriggs, from the slaughter
-with which they were stained. Among the prisoners were the Earls
-of Fife, Murray, Angus, Athol, Orkney, and Monteath, the Lords
-Montgomery and Erskine, and about 80 knights. Douglas received
-five wounds and lost an eye. Being hotly pursued, in the flight 500
-Scots were drowned in the Tweed, the most of their army on this fatal
-day were left dead, or taken prisoners.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE LAIDLEY WORM<br />
-<i>OF SPINDLESTON-HEUGH</i>.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse"><i>Virgo jam serpens sinuosa volumina versat,</i></div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Mille trahens varios adverso sole colores,</i></div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Arrectis horret squamis et sibilat ore;</i></div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Arduaque insurgens navem de littore pulsat.</i></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center">A Song about 550 Years old, made by the old Mountain-bard,
-Duncan Frasier, living on Cheviot, A.D. 1270.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>First printed from an ancient MSS.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">BY MR ROBERT LAMBE, VICAR OF NORHAM.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The king is gone from Bambrough Castle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Long may the princess mourn,</div>
-<div class="verse">Long may she stand on the castle wall,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Looking for his return.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">She has knotted the keys upon a string,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And with her she has them ta’en,</div>
-<div class="verse">She has cast them o’er her left shoulder,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And to the gate she is gane.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">She tripped out, she tripped in,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She tript into the yard;</div>
-<div class="verse">But it was more for the king’s sake,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Than for the queen’s regard.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">It fell out on a day, the king</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Brought the queen with him home;</div>
-<div class="verse">And all the lords, in our country,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To welcome them did come.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Oh! welcome father, the lady cries,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Unto your halls and bowers;</div>
-<div class="verse">And so are you, my step-mother,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For all that’s here is yours.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A lord said, wond’ring while she spake,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">This princess of the North</div>
-<div class="verse">Surpasses all of female kind</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In beauty, and in worth.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The envious queen replied, at least,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">You might have excepted me;</div>
-<div class="verse">In a few hours, I will her bring</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Down to a low degree.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I will her liken to a Laidley worm,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That warps about the stone,</div>
-<div class="verse">And not, till Childly Wynd comes back,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Shall she again be won.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The princess stood at the bower door</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Laughing, who could her blame?</div>
-<div class="verse">But e’er the next day’s sun went down,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A long worm she became.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For seven miles east, for seven miles west,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And seven miles north, and south,</div>
-<div class="verse">No blade of grass or corn could grow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So venomous was her mouth.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The milk of seven stately cows,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It was costly her to keep,</div>
-<div class="verse">Was brought her daily, which she drank</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Before she went to sleep.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At this day may be seen the cave,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which held her folded up,</div>
-<div class="verse">And the stone trough, the very same</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Out of which she did sup.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Word went east, and word went west,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And word is gone over the sea,</div>
-<div class="verse">That a Laidley worm in Spindleston-Heughs</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Would ruin the North Country.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Word went east, and word went west,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And over the sea did go;</div>
-<div class="verse">The Child de Wynd got wit of it,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which filled his heart with woe.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He called straight his merry men all,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They thirty were and three:</div>
-<div class="verse">I wish I were at Spindleston,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">This desperate worm to see.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We have no time now here to waste,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Hence quickly let us sail:</div>
-<div class="verse">My only sister Margaret,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Something, I fear, doth ail.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They built a ship without delay,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With masts of the rown tree,</div>
-<div class="verse">With flut’ring sails of silk so fine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And set her on the sea.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They went on board. The wind with speed</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Blew them along the deep,</div>
-<div class="verse">At length they spied an huge square tower</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On a rock high and steep.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The sea was smooth, the weather clear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When they approached nigher,</div>
-<div class="verse">King Ida’s castle they well knew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And the banks of Bambroughshire.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The queen look’d out at her bower window,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To see what she could see;</div>
-<div class="verse">There she espied a gallant ship</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sailing upon the sea.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When she beheld the silken sails,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Full glancing in the sun,</div>
-<div class="verse">To sink the ship she sent away</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her witch wives every one.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The spells were vain; the hags returned</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To the queen in sorrowful mood,</div>
-<div class="verse">Crying that witches have no power,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where there is rown-tree wood.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Her last effort, she sent a boat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which in the haven lay,</div>
-<div class="verse">With armed men to board the ship,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But they were driven away.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The worm lept up, the worm lept down,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She plaited round the stone;</div>
-<div class="verse">And ay as she came to the land</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She banged it off again.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The child then ran out of her reach</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The ship on Budley-sand;</div>
-<div class="verse">And jumping into the shallow sea,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Securely got to land.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And now he drew his berry-broad sword,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And laid it on her head;</div>
-<div class="verse">And swore if she did harm to him</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That he would strike her dead.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O! quit thy sword and bend thy bow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And give me kisses three;</div>
-<div class="verse">For though I am a poisonous worm,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">No hurt I’ll do to thee.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Oh! quit thy sword, and bend thy bow</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And give me kisses three;</div>
-<div class="verse">If I’m not won, e’er the sun go down,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Won I shall never be.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He quitted his sword and bent his bow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He gave her kisses three;</div>
-<div class="verse">She crept into a hole a worm,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But out stept a lady.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No cloathing had this lady fine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To keep her from the cold;</div>
-<div class="verse">He took his mantle from him about,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And round her did it fold.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He has taken his mantle from him about,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And in it he wrapt her in,</div>
-<div class="verse">And they are up to Bambrough castle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As fast as they can win.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His absence and her serpent shape,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The king had long deplored,</div>
-<div class="verse">He now rejoiced to see them both</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Again to him restored.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The queen they wanted, whom they found</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">All pale, and sore afraid;</div>
-<div class="verse">Because she knew her power must yield</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Childy Wynd’s, who said,</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Woe be to thee, thou wicked witch,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An ill death mayest thou dee;</div>
-<div class="verse">As thou my sister hast lik’ned,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So lik’ned shalt thou be.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I will turn you into a toad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That on the ground doth wend;</div>
-<div class="verse">And won, won, shall thou never be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Till this world hath an end.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now on the sand near Ida’s tower,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She crawls a loathsome toad,</div>
-<div class="verse">And venom spits on every maid</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She meets upon her road.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The virgins all of Bambrough town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Will swear that they have seen</div>
-<div class="verse">This spiteful toad, of monstrous size,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whilst walking they have been.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">All folks believe within the shire</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The story to be true,</div>
-<div class="verse">And they all run to Spindleston,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The cave and trough to view.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This fact now Duncan Frasier</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of Cheviot, sings in rhyme;</div>
-<div class="verse">Lest Bambrough-shire-men should forget</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Some part of it in time.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
-<img src="images/footer-anchor.jpg" width="200" height="57" alt="An anchor (decorative footer)" />
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE FISHER LADDIE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">On Bamboroughshire’s rocky shore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Just as you enter <i>Bowmer</i> Raw,</div>
-<div class="verse">There lives the bonny fisher lad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The fisher lad that bangs them a’.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">O the bonny fisher lad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">That brings the fishes fra’ the sea;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">O the bonny fisher lad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The fisher lad gat had of me.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">My mother sent me out one day,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To gather cockles fra’ the sea;</div>
-<div class="verse">But I had not been long away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When the fisher lad gat had of me.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">O the bonny, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A sailor I will never marry,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor soldier, for he’s got no <i>brass</i>;</div>
-<div class="verse">But I will have a fisher lad</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Because I am a fisher’s lass.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">O the bonny, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE KYE’s COME HOME.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The kye are come hame,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But I see not my hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse">The kye are come hame,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But I see not my bairn:</div>
-<div class="verse">I’d rather lose all the kye</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Than lose my hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse">I’d rather lose all the kye</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Than lose my bairn.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Fair fac’d is my hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His blue eyes are bonny,</div>
-<div class="verse">His hair in curl’d ringlets</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Hang sweet to the sight;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">O mount the old poney,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Seek after my hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse">And bring to his mammy</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her only delight.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>SONG.</h2>
-
-<p><i>A lamentable Ditty made upon the death of a worthy gentleman,
-named <span class="smcap">George Stoole</span>, dwelling sometime on Gate-side Moor,
-and sometime at Newcastle, in Northumberland: with his
-penitent end.</i> [c. 1610.]</p>
-
-<p class="center">To a delicate Scottish Tune.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come you lusty Northerne lads,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That are so blith and bonny,</div>
-<div class="verse">Prepare your hearts to be full sad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To heare the end of Georgy.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, heigh-ho my bonny love,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Heigh-ho, heigh-ho my honny;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, heigh-ho my owne deare love,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And God be with my Georgie.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When Georgie to his triall came,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A thousand hearts were sorry,</div>
-<div class="verse">A thousand lasses wept full sore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And all for love of Georgie.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, heigh-ho my bonny love,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Some did say he would escape,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Some at his fall did glory:</div>
-<div class="verse">But these were clownes and fickle friends,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And none that loved Georgy.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Might friends have satisfied the law,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then Georgie would find many:</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet bravely did he plead for life,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">If mercy might be any.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But when this doughty carle was cast,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He was full sad and sorry:</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet boldly did he take his death,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So patiently dyde Georgie.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">As Georgie went up to the gate,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He tooke his leave of many:</div>
-<div class="verse">He tooke his leave of his laird’s wife,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whom he lov’d best of any.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With thousand sighs and heavy looks,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Away from thence he parted,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where he so often blithe had beene,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Though now so heavy hearted.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He writ a letter with his owne hand,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He thought he writ it bravely:</div>
-<div class="verse">He sent it to New-castle towne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To his beloved lady.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Wherein he did at large bewaile,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The occasion of his folly:</div>
-<div class="verse">Bequeathing life unto the law,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His soule to heaven holy.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Why, lady, leave to weepe for me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Let not my ending grieve ye:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Prove constant to the man you love,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For I cannot relieve yee.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Out upon thee, Withrington,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And fie upon thee, Phoenix:</div>
-<div class="verse">Thou hast put downe the doughty one,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That stole the sheepe from Anix.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And fie on all such cruell carles,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whose crueltie’s so fickle,</div>
-<div class="verse">To cast away a gentleman</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In hatred for so little.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I would I were on yonder hill,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where I have beene full merry:</div>
-<div class="verse">My sword and buckeler by my side</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To fight till I be weary.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They well should know that tooke me first,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Though whoops be now forsaken:</div>
-<div class="verse">Had I but freedome, armes, and health,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’de dye ere I’de be taken.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But law condemns me to my grave,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They have me in their power;</div>
-<div class="verse">There’s none but Christ that can me save,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At this my dying houre.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He call’d his dearest love to him,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When as his heart was sorry:</div>
-<div class="verse">And speaking thus with manly heart,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Deare sweeting, pray for Georgie.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He gave to her a piece of gold,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And bade her give’t her bairns:</div>
-<div class="verse">And oft he kist her rosie lips,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And laid him into her armes.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And coming to the place of death,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He never changed colour,</div>
-<div class="verse">The more he thought he would look pale,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The more his veines were fuller.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And with a cheereful countenance,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">(Being at that time entreated</div>
-<div class="verse">For to confesse his former life)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">These words he straight repeated.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I never stole an ox or cow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor ever murdered any:</div>
-<div class="verse">But fifty horse I did receive</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of a merchant’s man of Gory.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For which I am condemn’d to dye</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Though guiltlesse I stand dying:</div>
-<div class="verse">Deare gracious God, my soule receive,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For now my life is flying,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The man of death a part did act,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which grieves me tell the story;</div>
-<div class="verse">God comfort all are comfortlesse,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And did so well as Georgie.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, my bonny love,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Heigh-ho, heigh-ho my bonny;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, mine own true love,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Sweet Christ receive my Georgie.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><i>EPITAPH</i><br />
-ON<br />
-WILLIAM BELL,<br />
-LATE A RESIDENT ON GATESHEAD FELL.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By Samuel Barras.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Here lies the corpse of William Bell,</div>
-<div class="verse">The great good man of Gateshead Fell:</div>
-<div class="verse">Zealous in his Master’s cause,</div>
-<div class="verse">A strict observer of his laws:</div>
-<div class="verse">He liv’d by faith, and not by sight:</div>
-<div class="verse">With full assurance took his flight,</div>
-<div class="verse">Unto that sweet delicious coast,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where hope is in fruition lost.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>AN EXCELLENT BALLAD<br />
-<i>On the Sickness, Death, and Burial</i>, OF ECKY’s MARE;</h2>
-
-<p><i>Which was made and composed by the late ancient and famous
-Northern poet, Mr <span class="smcap">Bernard Rumney</span>, a musician, or country
-fidler, who lived and died at Rothbury, being about one
-hundred years old at the time of his death.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Wold you please to hear of a sang of dule,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of yea sad chance and pittifow case,</div>
-<div class="verse">Makes the peur man powt through many a pule,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And leuk on mony an unkend face?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Between the Yule but and the Pasch,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In a private place, where as I lay,</div>
-<div class="verse">I heard ane sigh, and cry, alas!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">What shall I outher dea or say?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A man that’s born of a middle-yeard wight,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For wealth or pelth can no be secure;</div>
-<div class="verse">For he may have enough at night,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And the next morn he may be fow peur.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I speak this by a Northumberland man,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The proverb’s true proves by himself;</div>
-<div class="verse">Since the horse-couping he began,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He had great cause to crack of wealth.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Of galloways he was well stockt,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">What some part first, what some part last;</div>
-<div class="verse">But I’ll no speak much to his praise,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For some of them gat o’re lang a fast.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Some of them gat a shrowish cast,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which was nae teaken of much pelth;</div>
-<div class="verse">But yet he hopes, if life dea last,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To see the day to crack of welth.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But aye the warst cast still comes last,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He had nae geuds left but a Mear,</div>
-<div class="verse">There was mair diseases did her attend</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor I can name in half a year.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If Markham he himself was here,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A famous farrier although he be,</div>
-<div class="verse">It wad set aw his wits astear</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To reckon her diseases in their degree.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But her sicknesses we’ll set aside,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Now tauk we of the peur man’s cost,</div>
-<div class="verse">And how she lev’d, and how she died,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And how his labour aw was lost.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In the winter-time she took a hoast,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And aw whilk while she was noe weell;</div>
-<div class="verse">But yet her stomach ne’er was lost,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Although she never had her heal.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now for her feud she went so yare,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An the fiend had been a truss of hey,</div>
-<div class="verse">She wad a swallowed him and mickle mare,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Bequeen the night but an the dey.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The peur man cries out Armyes aye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I see that she’s noe like to mend,</div>
-<div class="verse">She beggers me with haver and hey,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I wish her some untimous end.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Nae sooner pray’d, but as soon heard,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She touck a fawing down behind,</div>
-<div class="verse">She wad a thousand men a scar’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To have felt her how she fill’d the wind.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Her master he went out at night,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of whilk he had oft mickle need,</div>
-<div class="verse">He left her neane her bed to right,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor neane for to had up her head.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Next day when he came to the town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He ran to see his mear with speed,</div>
-<div class="verse">He thought she had fawn in a swoon,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But when he try’d she was cald dead.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">It’s ever alas! but what remeed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Had she play’d me this at Michaelmas,</div>
-<div class="verse">It wad a studden me in geud steed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And sav’d me both yeats, hay and grass.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s ne’er an elf in aw the town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That hardly weell can say his creed,</div>
-<div class="verse">But he will swear a solemn oath,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Crack o’ wealth Ecky’s mear cau’d dead.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Lad, wilt thou for Hob Trumble run?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I ken he will come at my need;</div>
-<div class="verse">That seun he may take off her skin,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For I mun leeve though she be dead.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now straight he came with knife in hand,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He flead her fra the top to th’ tail,</div>
-<div class="verse">He left nae mare skin on her aw</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then wad been a heudin to a flail.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He seld her haill hide for a groat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So far I let you understand,</div>
-<div class="verse">And what he did weed he may well weet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For he bought neither house nor land.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now have I cassen away my care,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And hope to live to get another;</div>
-<div class="verse">And night and day shall be my prayer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The fiend gae down the loaning with her.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now shall I draw it near an end,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And tauk nae mare of her at least,</div>
-<div class="verse">But hoping none for to offend,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">You shall hear part of her funeral feast.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To her resorted mony a beak,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And birds of sundry sorts of hue;</div>
-<div class="verse">There was three hundred at the least,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">You may believe it to be true.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sir Ingram Corby he came first there,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With his fair lady clad in black,</div>
-<div class="verse">And with him swarms there did appear</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of piots hopping at his back.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The carrion craw she was not slack,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Aw cled into her mourning weed,</div>
-<div class="verse">With her resorted mony a mack</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of greedy kite and hungry gleede.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When they were aw conven’d compleat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And every yean had taen their place;</div>
-<div class="verse">So rudely they fell tea their meat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But nane thought on to say the grace.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Some rip’d her ribs, some pluck’d her face,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nae bit of her was to be seen;</div>
-<div class="verse">Sir Ingram Corby in that place,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Himself he pick’d out baith her eyne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But wait ye what an a chance befel,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When they were at this jolly chear,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sir William Bark, I can you tell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He unexpected lighted there.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Put aw the feasters in sike a fear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Some hopt away, some flew aside,</div>
-<div class="verse">There was not ane durst come him near,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nay not sir Corby, nor his bride.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He came not with a single side,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For mony a tike did him attend,</div>
-<div class="verse">I wait he was no puft we pride,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As you shall hear before I end.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">See rudely they fell to the meat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But napkin, trencher, salt, or knife;</div>
-<div class="verse">Some to the head, some to the feet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">While banes geud bare there was na strife.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In came there a tike, they cau’d him Grim,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sea greedily he did her gripe,</div>
-<div class="verse">But he rave out her belly-rim,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And aw her puddings he made pipe.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Her lights, her liver, but an her tripe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They lay all trailing upon the green;</div>
-<div class="verse">They were aw gane with a sudden wipe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Not any of them was to be seen.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But suddenly begeud a feast,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And after that begeud a fray;</div>
-<div class="verse">The tikes that were baith weak and least,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They carried aw the bats away.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And they that were of the weaker sort,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They harl’d her through the paddock-peul,</div>
-<div class="verse">They leugh, and said it was good sport,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When they had drest her like a feule.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thus have you heard of Ecky’s mear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">How pitifully she made her end;</div>
-<div class="verse">I write unto you far and near,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who says her death is no well penn’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I leave it to yoursel’s to mend,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That chance the peur man need again;</div>
-<div class="verse">If it be ill penn’d it is well kend,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I got as little for my ‘pain.’</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>STANZAS,<br />
-<i>Addressed to Northumbria</i>.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Old Janus advances all cloathed in white,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And his long-smother’d tempests sends forth;</div>
-<div class="verse">On the mountains cold bosom, as black as the night,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sinks the dark rolling clouds of the north.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In their winding sheets rob’d are the hills and the dales,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And the verdure no longer is seen;</div>
-<div class="verse">Save where the slow streams wind their way thro’ the vales,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With their margins besprinkled with green.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">On the stump of a thorn, with his bosom of red,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">See the robin his thankful notes raise</div>
-<div class="verse">For his crumbs&mdash;by his precepts, oh! may I be led</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To give the All-bounteous due praise.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Hark! the blast sweeps the heath; see the mountain fir bend;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thick tempests obscure the pale sky;</div>
-<div class="verse">The fast-gathering drift on the hedge see descend,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And streams of faint lightning flash by.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yes, Northumbria, thy climate is cold and severe;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">There winter usurps the blithe spring;</div>
-<div class="verse">And through the wide range of the circling year,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Chilling damps to thy bosom will cling.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yet thy health-giving breeze, be it ever so cold,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Knits the nerves of thy children for war;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose proud speaking eye in the soldier behold,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And for whose dauntless heart view the tar.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He bounds o’er thy brooks, and he climbs thy wild rocks,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Health and vigour inhales from the breeze;</div>
-<div class="verse">Despising in manhood the tempest’s rude shocks,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fearless quits his dear home for the seas.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Lo! the canvas it swell’d: from the banks of the Tyne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The vessel scuds swiftly along;</div>
-<div class="verse">From his eye independant, see stern valour shine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As he hums a Northumbrian song.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now the battle-day comes, and far, far from his shore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The squadrons of France meet his eyes;</div>
-<div class="verse">Unaw’d his proud heart, ’mid the cannons’ loud roar,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He with Collingwood conquers and dies.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">From thy hills, too, at sound of the heart-rousing drum,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thy war breathing soldier retires;</div>
-<div class="verse">In lion-like strength seeks the carnage field’s hum,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fights&mdash;blesses thy name&mdash;and expires!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Such, such are the heroes in thy vallies rear’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Such, Northumbria, thy children still be:</div>
-<div class="verse">Proud commerce, from Tyne’s banks in glory uprear’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To her breast clasps the lords of the sea.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come forward ye dark rolling clouds of the north,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who shrinks from your blasts but the coward and slave?</div>
-<div class="verse">Ye nerve the bold sons that Northumbria sends forth,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To fight for her king on Trafalgar’s proud wave.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>January 2d, 1807.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Bothwell.</span></p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><i>THOMAS WHITTLE.</i></h2>
-
-<p>The author of the five succeeding pieces of poetry, a Northumbrian
-by birth, and was long resident in the neighbourhood
-of Cambo, as appears by the following lines taken from his
-<span class="smcap">Whimsical Love</span> with <span class="smcap">Ann Dobson</span>:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“At Cambo, on a fatal day,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I chanc’d to see and view</div>
-<div class="verse">This Celia’s face, more fresh than May,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When every blossom’s new;</div>
-<div class="verse">Like patient Grissel, at her wheel,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Acting the housewife’s part,</div>
-<div class="verse">My spirits in my veins did reel,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And love danc’d in my heart.”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>As also from the History of Northumberland, (1811)
-Vol. II, page 221.</p>
-
-<p>“Cambo was the favourite residence of the ingenious and
-eccentric Thomas Whittle, whose comic productions often
-beguile the long winter evenings of our rustic Northumbrians.
-His parents and the place of his birth are unknown. It is
-believed that he was the natural son of a gentleman of fortune,
-and that he was called Whittle from the place of his nativity,
-which some say was in the parish of Shilbottle, and others in
-the parish of Ovingham.</p>
-
-<p>“Though Whittle was a profligate in his life, and sometimes
-licentious in his compositions, yet the superior talents he has
-displayed in his best productions, sufficiently entitle him to
-our notice in this work. His poems and songs have long been
-perused by the people of the county with eager admiration
-and delight, and will probably be a source of entertainment
-to many succeeding generations. His Whimsical Love is a
-master-piece of its kind; and his Poetic Letter to the Razor-setter,
-his satirical Poem on William Carstairs, and his song
-called the Mitford Galloway, are replete with wit and
-humour, and will afford a mental feast to all who have a
-taste for comic poetry.” The last of which was published
-during his life, with the following old wood cut, as a head
-piece to it:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
-<img src="images/horse.jpg" width="500" height="319" alt="HORSE!" />
-<p class="caption">Bidford Galloway.</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE MIDFORD GALLOWAY’s RAMBLE.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY THOMAS WHITTLE.</p>
-
-<p class="center">To the Tune of, <i>Ranting roaring Willy</i>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The routing the earl of Mar’s forces,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Has given their neighbours supplies;</div>
-<div class="verse">They’ve stock’d us with Highlanders horses,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Like kileys for madness and size:</div>
-<div class="verse">The whirligig-maker of Midford</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Has gotten one holds such a stear,</div>
-<div class="verse">He’s had worse work with it, I’ll say for’t</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Than Ecky e’er had with his mear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The devil ne’er saw such a gelding</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As this to be foal’d of a mear;</div>
-<div class="verse">The size ont’s a shame to be teld on,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And yet it could skip like a deer;</div>
-<div class="verse">For colour and size (I’m a sinner,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I scorn, as the folks say, to slide,)</div>
-<div class="verse">’Twas just like Hob Trumble’s gimmer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which he sold for six-pence a side.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">It was a confounded bad liver,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Like Ferry the piper’s old cat;</div>
-<div class="verse">It ne’er could be brought to behaviour,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Though it has got many a bat;</div>
-<div class="verse">It had been so spoil’d in up-bringing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It vext his poor heart every day;</div>
-<div class="verse">Sometimes with biting and flinging,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And sometimes with running away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Perhaps it was brought up a Tory,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And knew the poor man for a Whig;</div>
-<div class="verse">But just to make short of the story,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’ll tell you one day what it did:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">When business came thicker and thicker,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And would not admit of delay,</div>
-<div class="verse">As fast as the heels on’t could bicker,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It scamper’d right northward away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O’er rocks, over mountains and ditches,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Dike-gutters and hedges it speels;</div>
-<div class="verse">A courser could never keep stretches</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With it for a large share of heels:</div>
-<div class="verse">From hill unto dale like a fairy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It hurry’d and pranced along,</div>
-<div class="verse">While Geordy was in a quandary,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And knew not what way it was gone.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A day or two after, have at it,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He north in pursuit on’t took chase,</div>
-<div class="verse">And like a dub-skelper he trotted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To many strange village and place;</div>
-<div class="verse">All Rothbury forest he ranged,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From corner to corner like mad,</div>
-<div class="verse">And still he admired and stranged,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">What vengeance was gone with his pad.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He circled about like a ring-worm,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And follow’d the scent of his nose,</div>
-<div class="verse">And from Heslyhurst unto Brinkburn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With Fortune the clothier he goes.</div>
-<div class="verse">To honest Tom Fawdon’s the fuller,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The rattle-brain’d roisters both went,</div>
-<div class="verse">Tho’ they made the gelding their colour,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Another thing was their intent.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tom Fawdon soon knew what they wanted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And straightway the table was set,</div>
-<div class="verse">With bread, butter and cheese it was planted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And good ale, as well as good meat;</div>
-<div class="verse">Their grace took but little inditing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Twas short and they had it by heart;</div>
-<div class="verse">And they took as little inviting,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But strove who should have the fore-start.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They used no bashful dissembling,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But to in a passion did fall,</div>
-<div class="verse">The dishes did by them stand trembling,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their mercy appeared so small:</div>
-<div class="verse">The butter, the cheese, and the bannocks,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Dissolved like snow in a fresh,</div>
-<div class="verse">And still as they stuck in their stomachs,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With liquor they did them down wash.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Dutch, nor the Welsh, nor wight Wallace,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Did ever like them show their spleen,</div>
-<div class="verse">The cheese bore the marks of their malice,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their knives and their teeth were so keen.</div>
-<div class="verse">Two stone they destroyed, shame be’n them,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And pour’d down their liquor like spouts,</div>
-<div class="verse">Their guts to hold what they put in them,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Were drest like a pair of strait boots.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With bellies top-full to the rigging,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I leave them to settle a bit,</div>
-<div class="verse">’Till making good use of the midding,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">‘Do’ bring them unto a right set.</div>
-<div class="verse">Now come we to speak of the gelding,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who knowing that he did offend,</div>
-<div class="verse">Stay’d two or three days about Weldon,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To make justice Lisle stand his friend.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He after that grew so unlucky,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On mischief and ill he was bent,</div>
-<div class="verse">He prov’d a right North-country jockey,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Still cheating where ever he went.</div>
-<div class="verse">At many men’s charges he dined,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But never ask’d what was arrear;</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet no man could get him confined,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So slily himself he did clear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The town of Longframlington further</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Can give an account what he is,</div>
-<div class="verse">He came within acting of murder,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As near as a horse could to miss;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">For unto a house he went scudding,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And seeing a child all alone,</div>
-<div class="verse">If Providence had not withstood him,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He’d struck it as dead as a stone.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The rest of his acts are recorded,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Tis nonsense to mention them here;</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ll go back and fetch Geordy forward,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He’s tarri’d too long I do fear!</div>
-<div class="verse">From Brinkburn he started and held on,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Directly to Framlington town,</div>
-<div class="verse">And then to the miller’s at Weldon,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He back o’er the hill tumbled down.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Not finding the thing that he wanted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Unto Hedleywood he did trot,</div>
-<div class="verse">He was tost like a dog in a blanket,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">O’er Coquet and back in the boat:</div>
-<div class="verse">All Framlington fields he sought over,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And from spot to spot he did run,</div>
-<div class="verse">For fear the grass chanced to cover</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His pad, as it once did Tom Thumb.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then up to John Alders he drabbeth,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And there all the night did repose,</div>
-<div class="verse">And then, the next day being Sabbath,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Away he to Whittingham goes;</div>
-<div class="verse">Where he to revenge the miscarriage</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of his little scatter-brain’d nag,</div>
-<div class="verse">He went to the clerk of the parish,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To get him expos’d for a vague.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The clerk he soon set up his cropping,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And made a great bustle and stear;</div>
-<div class="verse">The church-yard appear’d like a hopping,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The folks drew about so to hear:</div>
-<div class="verse">He did to a hairs-breadth describe him,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And call’d him again and again,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Geordy by four-pence did bribe him,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For all the small pains he had ta’n.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Scarce were the jaw-bones of these asses</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Well shut, till a Thrunton-bred lad,</div>
-<div class="verse">Eas’d Geordy a bit of his crosses,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By bringing him news of his pad:</div>
-<div class="verse">These tidings his spirit renewed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">No clerk cou’d his courage controul,</div>
-<div class="verse">But still was resolv’d to pursue it,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Suppose it were to the North pole.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">’Tis past a man’s giving account on,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">What way he traversed with speed,</div>
-<div class="verse">From Eslington, Whittingham, Thrunton,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He past the Broom-park and Hill-head,</div>
-<div class="verse">To Learchild, to Barton, to Branton,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And from thence to Mount on the clay,</div>
-<div class="verse">To Fawdon, the Clinch, and to Glanton,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And several towns mist by the way.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s Lemington, Abberwick, Bolton,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With Woodhall that stands on the fell,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Titlington’s likewise untold on,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where Jacob, of old, dig’d his well;</div>
-<div class="verse">To Harup, to Hidgily and Beanly,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He past unto Callaly mill,</div>
-<div class="verse">To Brandon, to Ingram, and Reavely,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Crawley that stands on a hill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To Brandon-main, then to the Whitehouse,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Dickison’s where he made league,</div>
-<div class="verse">And articled that for a night-house,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To rest a while after fatigue:</div>
-<div class="verse">He drank a while till he grew mellow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And then for his chamber did call,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where sound he may sleep, silly fellow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His travels wou’d weary us all.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He had an invincible couple</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of legs, that did bear him well out,</div>
-<div class="verse">They hung so loose, like a flail-souple,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And cudgel’d his buttocks about;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">No man who’d have thought any hallion</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Could ever have acted the thing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Without help of Pacolet’s stallion,<a name="FNanchor_46" id="FNanchor_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That when the pin turn’d did take wing.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Next day rising, rigging and starting,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He jogg’d on his journey with speed,</div>
-<div class="verse">To Bewick, the Lilburns, Coldmartin,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From thence unto Woolerhaugh-head;</div>
-<div class="verse">To Wooperton, Ilderton, Rodham,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Rosedon, he scudded like mad,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nothing fell by the way that withstood him,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Until he had met with his pad.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Earl was the place where he found him,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A blithe sight for Geordy to see;</div>
-<div class="verse">But got the whole town to surround him,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Before he his prisoner would be:</div>
-<div class="verse">Then on his back jumping and prancing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He swiftly switcht over the plain,</div>
-<div class="verse">But made him pay dear for his dancing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">E’er he got to Midford again.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_46" id="Footnote_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> See the history of Valentine and Orson.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE INSIPIDS:<br />
-OR,<br />
-<i>The Mistress with her Multitude of Man Servants.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY THOMAS WHITTLE.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Of all the Kirkharle bonny lasses,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">If they were set round in a ring,</div>
-<div class="verse">Jane Heymours for beauty surpasses,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She might be a match for a king;</div>
-<div class="verse">Her cheeks are as red as a cherry,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her breast is as white as a swan,</div>
-<div class="verse">She is a blyth lass and a merry,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And her middle is fit for a man.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lads are so fond to be at her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They all run as mad as March hares,</div>
-<div class="verse">This bonny young lass they do flatter,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And fall at her feet to their prayers:</div>
-<div class="verse">You never saw keener or stouter,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They’ll not be put off with delay,</div>
-<div class="verse">Like bull-dogs they still hang about her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And court her by night and by day.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Joe Hepple, Will Crudders, Tom Liddle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With twenty or thirty men more,</div>
-<div class="verse">If I could their names but unriddle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At least I might make out two score,</div>
-<div class="verse">That all cast about for to catch her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And make her their own during life;</div>
-<div class="verse">With others that strive to debauch her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Despairing to make her their wife.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So many love tokens and fancies</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She gets, that to bring them in view,</div>
-<div class="verse">They’d look like so many romances,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And none could believe they were true.</div>
-<div class="verse">I only will mention one favour,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And leave you to guess at the rest;</div>
-<div class="verse">An old kenning Edward Hall gave her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of comforts the choicest and best.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They venture like people for prizes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And with the same timorous doubt,</div>
-<div class="verse">She has them of all sorts and sizes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That’s constantly sneaking about.</div>
-<div class="verse">Each man speaks her fair, and importunes</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In all the best language that’s known;</div>
-<div class="verse">And happy were he could tell fortunes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To know if the girl were his own.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">John Robson, Joe Bowman, Will Little,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With her would spend nights over days;</div>
-<div class="verse">Each glance of her eyes is so smittle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That all men are catch’d if they gaze:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">She strikes them quite thro’ with love stitches,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And many a poor heart she doth fill;</div>
-<div class="verse">She’s like one of those call’d white witches,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That hurts men and means them no ill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">John Henderson, that honest weaver,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And mettled Matt Thomson the smith,</div>
-<div class="verse">Came both from Capheaton to preave her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And court her with courage and pith.</div>
-<div class="verse">Ned Oliver too, and Tom Baxter</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Spare neither their feet, tongue, or hands,</div>
-<div class="verse">But strive with the rest to contract her</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In compass of conjugal bands.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Bob Bewick just makes it his calling</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Unto her his love to declare;</div>
-<div class="verse">And some’s of that mind that John Rawling</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Would gladly come in for a share.</div>
-<div class="verse">John Forcing doth praise and commend her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Above any lass that wears head;</div>
-<div class="verse">And fain he would be a pretender,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">If he had but hopes to come speed.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Bob Cole strains his wit and invention</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And compliments to a degree;</div>
-<div class="verse">And twenty that I cannot mention</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are all as keen courters as he.</div>
-<div class="verse">She puts them all into such pickle</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They care not what courses they run,</div>
-<div class="verse">And if (as folks say) she be fickle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Tis twenty to one they’re undone.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Their loves would fill forty hand wallets,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">If they were cramm’d in at both ends;</div>
-<div class="verse">Their hearts are all sunk like lead pellets,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And very small hopes of amends.</div>
-<div class="verse">Great dangers on both sides encreases,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which very destructive may prove;</div>
-<div class="verse">The lass may be all pull’d to pieces,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or all the poor lads die for love.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But that which supports and preserves them,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their stomachs their best friends do prove;</div>
-<div class="verse">And ’tis not a little meat serves them</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Since they fell so deeply in love.</div>
-<div class="verse">Their fancies and appetites working,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It made them so sharp and so keen,</div>
-<div class="verse">The girls mother lost two butter firkins,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They wattell’d away so much cream.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">One day with a good brandy bottle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Two met her about the Heugh Nebb,</div>
-<div class="verse">And there their accounts they did settle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And made all as right as my legg:</div>
-<div class="verse">The snuff-mill and gloves came in season,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The want of a glass to supply;</div>
-<div class="verse">They drank the girls first, with good reason,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And then the king’s health by the by.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Millers Haugh, Heugh Nebb, and Haystack,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Flowers, the New Close, and Decoy,</div>
-<div class="verse">With places whose titles I know not,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where they met to love and enjoy,</div>
-<div class="verse">Would be but too far a digression,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And make our fond passions rebell;</div>
-<div class="verse">But, oh! had these places expression,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">What pretty love tales they could tell!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So many to her bear affection,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And give her such lofty applause,</div>
-<div class="verse">I’m love-sick to hear the description,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And wish I could see the sweet cause:</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis she that could make all odds even,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And bring many wonders to pass;</div>
-<div class="verse">I wish all her sweethearts in heaven,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Why I were in bed with the lass!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>SAWNEY OGILBY’s DUEL WITH HIS WIFE.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY THOMAS WHITTLE.</p>
-
-<p class="center">To the Tune of, <i>The worst’s past</i>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Good people, give ear to the fatalest duel</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That Morpeth e’er saw since it was a town,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where fire is kindled and has so much fuel,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I wou’d not be he that wou’d quench’t for a crown.</div>
-<div class="verse">Poor Sawney, as canny a North British hallion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As e’er crost the border this million of weeks,</div>
-<div class="verse">Miscarried, and married a Scottish tarpawlin,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That pays his pack-shoulders, and will have the breeks.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I pity him still when I think of his kindred,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lord Ogelby was his near cousin of late;</div>
-<div class="verse">And if he and somebody else had not hinder’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He might have been heir unto all his estate.</div>
-<div class="verse">His stature was small, and his shape like a monkey,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His beard like a bundle of scallions or leeks;</div>
-<div class="verse">Right bonny he was, but now he’s worn scrunty,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And fully as fit for the horns as the breeks.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">It fell on a day, he may it remember,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Tho’ others rejoyced, yet so did not he,</div>
-<div class="verse">When tidings was brought that Lisle did surrender,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It grieves me to think on’t, his wife took the gee,</div>
-<div class="verse">These bitches still itches, and stretches commission,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And if they be crossed they’re still taking peeks,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Sawney, poor man, he was out of condition,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And hardly well fit for defending the breeks.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">She mutter’d, and moung’d, and looked damn’d misty,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Sawney said something, as who cou’d forbear?</div>
-<div class="verse">Then straight she began, and went to’t handfisty,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She whither’d about, and dang down all the gear:</div>
-<div class="verse">The dishes and dublers went flying like fury,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She broke more that day than would mend in two weeks,</div>
-<div class="verse">And had it been put to a judge or a jury,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They cou’d not tell whether deserved the breeks.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But Sawney grew weary, and fain would be civil,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Being auld, and unfeary, and fail’d of his strength,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then she cowp’d him o’er the kale-pot with a kevil,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And there he lay labouring all his long length.</div>
-<div class="verse">His body was soddy, and sore he was bruised,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The bark of his shins was all standing in peaks;</div>
-<div class="verse">No stivat e’er lived was so much misused</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As sare as auld Sawney for claiming the breeks.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The noise was so great all the neighbours did hear them,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She made his scalp ring like the clap of a bell;</div>
-<div class="verse">But never a soul had the mense to come near them,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Tho’ he shouted murder with many a yell.</div>
-<div class="verse">She laid on whisky whasky, and held like a steary,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wight Wallace could hardly have with her kept streaks;</div>
-<div class="verse">And never gave over until she was weary,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Sawney was willing to yield her the breeks.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And now she must still be observ’d like a madam.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She’ll cause him to curvet, and skip like a frog,</div>
-<div class="verse">And if he refuses she’s ready to scad him,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Poxtake such a life, it wou’d weary a dog.</div>
-<div class="verse">Ere I were so serv’d, I would see the de’il take her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I hate both the name and the nature of sneaks;</div>
-<div class="verse">But if she were mine I would clearly forsake her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And let her make a kirk and a mill of the breeks.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>SONG<br />
-ON<br />
-<i>WILLIAM CARSTAIRS, SCHOOLMASTER.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY THOMAS WHITTLE.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ye muses nine, if you think fit,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Instruct my pen to write.</div>
-<div class="verse">Apollo, thou great god of wit,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Come help me to indite.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Let poets, pipers, fidlers come,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In priols,<a name="FNanchor_47" id="FNanchor_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> or in pairs,</div>
-<div class="verse">And echo forth, as with a <i>drum</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The praise of Will Carstairs.<a name="FNanchor_48" id="FNanchor_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse"><i>Imprimus</i>, then I will proceed</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His features to disclose,</div>
-<div class="verse">And draw a compass from his head</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Unto his heels and toes;</div>
-<div class="verse">Some cunning man come lay a spell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And keep me from all snares,</div>
-<div class="verse">That I may keep in compass well,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">While I describe Carstairs.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But first I must his pardon crave,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For making bold and free,</div>
-<div class="verse">For William was his christian name,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And shall be so for me;</div>
-<div class="verse">But manners must to rhymes give place,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or else we spoil our wares;</div>
-<div class="verse">And <i>Will</i> and <i>William’s</i> all one case,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And equal to Carstairs.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His face is like the midnight moon</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And stars that shine so bright;</div>
-<div class="verse">His nose is like a flaming fire,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That casts both heat and light;</div>
-<div class="verse">It sparkles like the Syrian seas</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When he gets in his airs,</div>
-<div class="verse">A clown has not an heart to buy</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A beak like Will Carstairs.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Without a magnifying glass,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His neck you cannot see;</div>
-<div class="verse">But if you please to let it pass,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It shall be pass’d by me;</div>
-<div class="verse">His shoulders are compact and strong,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Made up of rounds and squares,</div>
-<div class="verse">And no small burden e’er could wrong</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A back like Will Carstairs’.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Down from his shoulder-blades there springs</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Two arms both stout and strong,</div>
-<div class="verse">That flap just like a buzzard’s wings</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As he marcheth along;</div>
-<div class="verse">And from those arms there spring two hands,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Well skill’d in magic airs;</div>
-<div class="verse">And William Lilley’s charter stands</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By such as Will Carstairs.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He has eight sides, I scorn to slide,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’ll bring them fairly in,</div>
-<div class="verse">The upperside and underside</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are two for to begin;</div>
-<div class="verse">There’s backside, foreside, leftside, right&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’ll put them down in pairs&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">And inside, outside, which make <i>eight</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Belonging to Carstairs.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Down from his sides there spring two hips</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With sturdy well built thighs,</div>
-<div class="verse">Just like a pair of weeding-clips,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But of a larger size;</div>
-<div class="verse">His legs they do like supples bend,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When he gets in his airs&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Right taper’d down from end to end,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Few men can match Carstairs.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His feet are much like other men’s,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I guess them by the shoe,</div>
-<div class="verse">They’re neither of the fives nor tens,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But just between the two.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">He’ll trip to Scotland in a trice,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For speed he never spares,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">There’s few can trip it out so nice</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As thrifty Will Carstairs.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He’s near about the standard pitch,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As nature can express&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">They’re lubbers that’s above his size,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And dwarfs that’s any less;</div>
-<div class="verse">But tho’ he be not quite so tall</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To rank ’mong grenadiers,</div>
-<div class="verse">There’s thousands of marines as small</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As little Will Carstairs.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_47" id="Footnote_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> Priol, <i>i.e.</i> three.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_48" id="Footnote_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> Carstairs, though a poor poet, was vain of his abilities as such.
-About the year 1731, Thomas Whittle and he being in a large
-company at the Burnt-house in Newcastle, the conversation turned
-on their respective merits as disciples of the Muses. A wager was
-soon bet on the subject; and it was agreed, that an hour should be
-allowed for each of them to write satyrical verses on the other. The
-two poets were accordingly placed in separate apartments; and at the
-expiration of the time specified, it was determined, by throwing up a
-halfpenny, which of the two should first read his lays: it fell to
-Whittle’s lot; but before he had got to the end, his competitor was so
-chagrined, that he put the concoctions of his less fertile brain in the
-fire; the wager of course was won by Whittle’s party.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THOMAS WHITTLE, HIS HUMOROUS LETTER,<br />
-TO MASTER MOODY, THE RAZOR-SETTER.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Newcastle on Tyne,
-May Twenty-nine.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Good Master Moody,</div>
-<div class="verse">My beard being cloudy,</div>
-<div class="verse">My cheeks, chin, and lips</div>
-<div class="verse">Like moon i’ the ’clipse,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">For want of a wipe:</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ve sent you a razor,</div>
-<div class="verse">If you’ll be at leisure</div>
-<div class="verse">To grind her, and set her,</div>
-<div class="verse">And make her cut better,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">You’ll e’en light my pipe.<a name="FNanchor_49" id="FNanchor_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Dear sir, you know little</div>
-<div class="verse">The case of poor Whittle&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">I’m courting Tantivie,</div>
-<div class="verse">If you will believe me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Pray mark what I say:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">I’m frank in my proffers,</div>
-<div class="verse">And when I make offers,</div>
-<div class="verse">To kiss the sweet creature,</div>
-<div class="verse">My lips cannot meet her.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">My beard stops the way.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">You’ve heard my condition,</div>
-<div class="verse">And now I petition,</div>
-<div class="verse">That without omission,</div>
-<div class="verse">With all expedition,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">You’ll give it a <i>strike</i>;</div>
-<div class="verse">And send it by ’Tony,</div>
-<div class="verse">He’ll pay you the money&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ll shave and look bonny,</div>
-<div class="verse">And go to my honey,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">As snod as you like.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If you do not you’ll hip me,</div>
-<div class="verse">My sweetheart will slip me,</div>
-<div class="verse">And if I should smart for’t,</div>
-<div class="verse">And break my poor heart for’t</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Are you not to blame!</div>
-<div class="verse">But if you’ll oblige me,</div>
-<div class="verse">As gratitude guides me,</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ll still be your servant,</div>
-<div class="verse">Obedient and fervent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Whilst <span class="smcap">Whittle’s</span> my name.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_49" id="Footnote_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> A Northumberland phrase, signifying a particular favour done to one.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE LITTLE PRIEST OF FELTON.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The little priest of Felton,</div>
-<div class="verse">The little priest of Felton,</div>
-<div class="verse">He kill’d a mouse within his house,</div>
-<div class="verse">And ne’er a one to help him;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To help him, to help him,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He kill’d a mouse within his house,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And ne’er a one to help him.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE FELTON GARLAND.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>How a Brick-maker at Felton stole a Woman away by her own
-Consent, from her Grandmother.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">To the Tune of, <i>Maggy Lauder</i>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There lives a lass in Felton town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her name is Jenny Gowen,</div>
-<div class="verse">With the Brick-man she has play’d the lown,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So wanton she is grown:</div>
-<div class="verse">The reason why some love the night,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1"><i>Incognito</i> to revel,</div>
-<div class="verse">Is they love darkness more than light,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Because their deeds are evil.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So late at night on Saturday,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He thought all safe as brandy,</div>
-<div class="verse">He rigg’d and trigg’d, and rid away</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Upon John Hinks’s Sandy:</div>
-<div class="verse">To Haggerston he did pretend,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Some sweetheart there confin’d him;</div>
-<div class="verse">But he took up, at our town-end,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His cloak-bag on behind him.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Like as the bird that gay would be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As fable hath reported,</div>
-<div class="verse">From each fine bird most cunningly</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A feather she extorted:</div>
-<div class="verse">Then boasting said, How fine I’m grown!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her painted plumes she shaked,</div>
-<div class="verse">At which each bird pluck’d off their own,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And left her almost naked.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With this kind maid it proved so,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who many things did borrow,</div>
-<div class="verse">To rig her up from top to toe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And deck her like queen Flora.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Of one she got a black-silk hood,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her fond light head to cover,</div>
-<div class="verse">Likewise a blue cloak, very good,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her night intrigues to smother.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Clock stockings she must have (dear wot)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In borrow’d shoes she’s kilted,</div>
-<div class="verse">Some lent her a blue petticoat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Both large and bravely quilted.</div>
-<div class="verse">Of some she got a fine linn-smock,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lest Peter shou’d grow canty,</div>
-<div class="verse">And have a stroke at her black joke,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With a tante, rante, tante.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With borrow’d cane, hat on her head,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To make her still look greater,</div>
-<div class="verse">She’d make her friends believe indeed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They were all bought by Peter:</div>
-<div class="verse">But when she did return again,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In all her boasted grandeur,</div>
-<div class="verse">Each to their own did lay just claim,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And left her as they fand her.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But none can guess at their intent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Why they abroad did swagger,</div>
-<div class="verse">Some said, to see their friends they went,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Some said, to Buckle Beggar.</div>
-<div class="verse">Away full four days they stay’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I think they took their leisure;</div>
-<div class="verse">They past for man and wife, some said,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And spent the nights in pleasure.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When the Black Cock did Sandy see,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">There was a joyful meeting,</div>
-<div class="verse">That night when I thee lent, quoth he,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I wish I had been sleeping:</div>
-<div class="verse">Thou art abused very sore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As any creature can be,</div>
-<div class="verse">And still he cry’d, o’er and o’er,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">O woe is me for Sandy!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then Sandy, mumbling, made reply,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">You were my loving master,</div>
-<div class="verse">I never did your suit deny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor meet with one disaster,</div>
-<div class="verse">Till now unknown to yourself,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That I should have this trouble,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or else for neither love nor pelf,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">You’d let me carry double.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Poor Sandy was with riding daul’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He rues he saw their faces,</div>
-<div class="verse">His back and sides they sorely gaul’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He pay’d for their embraces;</div>
-<div class="verse">But if young Peter’s found her nest,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She’ll rue as well as Sandy;</div>
-<div class="verse">And if she proves with child, she best</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Had tarry’d with her grandy.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>How they abused the horse they rid on, and when he married,
-they went off in several people’s debts.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In second part I will declare</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The troubles of poor Sandy;</div>
-<div class="verse">And how this couple married were,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And how well pleas’d was Grandy.</div>
-<div class="verse">Now first with Sandy I’ll begin,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whose legs swell’d to a wonder,</div>
-<div class="verse">So likewise was his belly rim,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Swell’d like to burst asunder.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And lest his troubles shou’d increase,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A farrier was provided,</div>
-<div class="verse">Well skill’d in Markham’s master-piece,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who in this town resided;</div>
-<div class="verse">And, to his everlasting fame,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He did exert his cunning,</div>
-<div class="verse">He bled his legs, and in his wame,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Two tapps he there set running.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He several med’cines did apply,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whose virtue was so pure,</div>
-<div class="verse">That in six weeks, or very nigh,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He made a perfect cure.</div>
-<div class="verse">And now in all the world besides,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">There’s not a sounder creature,</div>
-<div class="verse">So well he scampers, and he rides,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But never more with Peter.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Of him I now design to speak,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A Yorkshire born and bred, sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">He play’d them all a Yorkshire trick,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And then away he fled, sir.</div>
-<div class="verse">As you shall hear when home he came,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With Jennet upon Sandy,</div>
-<div class="verse">He to his work return’d again,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And she unto her grandy.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But long with her she tarry’d not,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Unsettled was her notion,</div>
-<div class="verse">Just like the pend’lum of a clock,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That’s always in a motion.</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ll go to service, she did say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Keep me, you can’t afford it;</div>
-<div class="verse">So one she got, where was it pray?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">E’en where her spark was boarded.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now whether ’twas for want of beds,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or whether ’twas cold weather,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or whether ’twas to measure legs,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That they lay both together;</div>
-<div class="verse">But as they smuggl’d for a while,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And gave out they were marry’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Till she at length did prove with child,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then all things were miscarry’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then he did own his fault was great,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He’d make her satisfaction;</div>
-<div class="verse">And fearing penance in a sheet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He’d suffer for that action,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">He marry’d her without delay,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And got their nuptial lesson,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which to confirm they went streightway</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To get their grandy’s blessing.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When in her presence they were come,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She rail’d at them like thunder,</div>
-<div class="verse">For shame, cries she, what have you done,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That’s brought on you this blunder?</div>
-<div class="verse">She call’d her slut and brazen fac’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Instead of kind caressing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our family you have disgrac’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Can you expect a blessing?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But like a stormy winter’s night,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Next morning turns calm weather,</div>
-<div class="verse">So grandy’s passion soon took flight,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She pray’d that they together</div>
-<div class="verse">Might live in love and happiness,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Enjoying peace and plenty,</div>
-<div class="verse">Long may they health and wealth possess,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And pockets ne’er grow empty.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When they had grandy’s blessing got,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They slily fled away, sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">He all the bricks did leave unwrought,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And many debts to pay, sir.</div>
-<div class="verse">Now all good people, warning take,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">How you do trust to strangers,</div>
-<div class="verse">They’ll wheedle you for money’s sake,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And still prove country rangers.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;">
-<img src="images/footer-flowers.jpg" width="150" height="69" alt="Flowers (decorative footer)" />
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>FROM THE<br />
-SWAINS OF FELTON,<br />
-TO THE<br />
-<i>Shepherds of Lanthernside, Northumberland</i>, 1787.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune.</i>&mdash;General F&mdash;r&mdash;’s March.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">He’s gone! he’s gone!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The conquering hero’s gone!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">To barren lands in Lanthernside,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">To sow Lucern upon.</div>
-<div class="verse">Rejoice ye sons of Lanthernside, and Io pæan sing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Since land-improving F&mdash;&mdash;r vouchsafes to be your king!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">Lucern! Lucern!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">That best of grass Lucern!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Oh! happy swains of Lanthernside,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Be far from you concern;</div>
-<div class="verse">For now your sterile rocky soil, where stocks are never seen,</div>
-<div class="verse">Will quickly be converted all, to fields of fruitful green.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">He’ll plant, he’ll plant,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">A Colony he’ll plant,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">With plants and beasts of various kinds,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Which Lanthernside may want.</div>
-<div class="verse">With here a hardy plant of Oak, and there a plant of Fir,</div>
-<div class="verse">And here an English pointer staunch, and there a shepherd’s cur.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">He’ll sail, he’ll sail,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Without a mast or sail,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And gently glide by Lanthernside,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Before a gentle gale.</div>
-<div class="verse">Your streamlet he will navigate, and bring the flowing tide,</div>
-<div class="verse">From Warkworth’s hoary Hermitage, to dreary Lanthernside.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">He’ll reign, he’ll reign,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Without despotic sway;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Therefore ye lads of Lanthernside,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">His dictates all obey.</div>
-<div class="verse">Come all ye wanton wenches, with speed unto him haste,</div>
-<div class="verse">For, tho’ as lewd as Lais, he’ll teach you to be chaste.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">Your game, your game,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">He will preserve your game!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">For well in that particular,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Abroad is spread his fame!</div>
-<div class="verse">But <a name="FNanchor_50" id="FNanchor_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a>Biddlestone will curse the day, to Lanthernside he came,</div>
-<div class="verse">For sure as bird e’er fell by gun, he will destroy his game.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">Rejoice! rejoice!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Let <a name="FNanchor_51" id="FNanchor_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a>Felton Park rejoice!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">For now its lord is free to roam,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">As chance directs his choice.</div>
-<div class="verse">For F&mdash;&mdash;r like a Briton bold, had circumscrib’d his bounds,</div>
-<div class="verse">And left him but one single mile, to range in his own grounds.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">He’s gone! he’s gone!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Alas! our hero’s gone!</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And left us quite disconsolate,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">In Felton town to moan!</div>
-<div class="verse">Rejoice ye Lanthernsiders, and Io pæan sing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Since mirth-exciting F&mdash;&mdash;r vouchsafes to be your king.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_50" id="Footnote_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> Mr S&mdash;&mdash; of Biddlestone.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_51" id="Footnote_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> Mr R&mdash;&mdash; of Felton.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>ON THE<br />
-DEPARTURE OF <span class="smcap">Mr</span> GREY, OF FELTON,<br />
-<i>Who died on Saturday, August 12th, 1775.</i></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent4">On Saturday,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Poor Felton Grey,</div>
-<div class="verse">Went o’er the hills and far away:</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">But none can say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">He went away,</div>
-<div class="verse">Without enquiring <i>what’s to pay</i>.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>CARR OF ETAL.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">God prosper long our noble king,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our lives and safeties all;</div>
-<div class="verse">A joyful supper once there did,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In Edinbro’ befal.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To give the gallant Scot a horn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Bold <i>Etal</i><a name="FNanchor_52" id="FNanchor_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> took his way,</div>
-<div class="verse">Children to get, which shall be born,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Upon another day.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Bold Etal of Northumberland,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A vow to God did make,</div>
-<div class="verse">His pleasure in the Scottish town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Three summer’s days to take.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The choicest lips in Edinbro’,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To kiss and bear away;</div>
-<div class="verse">These tidings reach’d Black Castle’s<a name="FNanchor_53" id="FNanchor_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> lord,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In Perthshire where he lay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Who sent young Etal present word,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He would prevent his sport;</div>
-<div class="verse">The Englishman not fearing this,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Did to the town resort.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In reg’ment spotted leopard like,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Mov’d with superior grace;</div>
-<div class="verse">And swore he’d take their mistresses,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And kiss before their face.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sir Patrick, in a silver vest,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Most like a gallant knight,</div>
-<div class="verse">Mov’d foremost of the company.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And pleas’d the ladies’ sight.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Shew me, says he, whose men you be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who come so boldly here;</div>
-<div class="verse">I fain would see that English face,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That I have cause to fear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The first man that did answer make,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was gallant <i>Etal</i> he,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who said, We list not to disclose,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or shew whose men we be.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But we will spend our dearest blood,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Your toasts to bear away:</div>
-<div class="verse">Sir Pat with anger colour’d red,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And thus in rage did say:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ere I will thus outbraved be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">One of us two shall die;</div>
-<div class="verse">I know thou Carr of Etal art,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Black Castle’s heir am I.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But trust me, Etal, pity ’twere,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And great offence to kill,</div>
-<div class="verse">Doory and Swinburn, harmless youths,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For they can do no ill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Let you and I the battle try,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And set our men aside:</div>
-<div class="verse">Accurst be he, bold Etal cried,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By whom this is denied.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then stept a noble baron forth,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lord Linton was his name;</div>
-<div class="verse">Who said, He would not have it told,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Scottish men for shame;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">That ere Black Castle fought on foot,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And he stood looking on;</div>
-<div class="verse">You are two ’squires, lord Linton cried,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And I am an earl’s son.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I’ll do the best that I can do,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">While I have power to stand;</div>
-<div class="verse">I would not quarrel for a kiss,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But Carr, keep back your hand.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then Swinburn clapp’d his hands and laugh’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And jeeringly did say,</div>
-<div class="verse">Stick to ’em Carr, and bear ’em off,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For me I’ll drink away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Drinking’s the sport that I like best,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So push the glasses round;</div>
-<div class="verse">Kiss you the ladies and I’ll drink,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">These gallants to the ground.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Oh what a joy it was to see,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And likewise for to hear,</div>
-<div class="verse">How Swinburn rattl’d in the van,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Creighton in the rear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They drank full fast from night ’till morn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">No slackness there was found;</div>
-<div class="verse">And Scots and English hats and wigs,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lay drunk upon the ground.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>At Callaly, the seat of the Claverings, tradition reports,
-that while the workmen were engaged in erecting the castle
-upon a hill, a little distance from the scite of the present
-edifice, they were surprised every morning to find their former
-day’s work destroyed, and the whole impeded by supernatural
-obstacles, which causing them to watch, they heard a voice
-saying:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Callaly castle stands on a height,</div>
-<div class="verse">It’s up in the day, and down at night:</div>
-<div class="verse">Build it down on the Shepherd’s Shaw,</div>
-<div class="verse">There it will stand and never fa’.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Upon which the building was transferred to the place
-mentioned, where it now stands.</p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_52" id="Footnote_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> Carr, Esq. of Etal, in the county of Northumberland.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_53" id="Footnote_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> Sir P. Murray.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>BEDLINGTON TRAGEDY.<br />
-<i>A FRAGMENT.</i></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In Bedlington there liv’d a fair,</div>
-<div class="verse">(With ruby lips, and auburn hair;)</div>
-<div class="verse">Who dearly priz’d a famous youth,</div>
-<div class="verse">For generous acts and constant truth;</div>
-<div class="verse">But she was heir to store of wealth,</div>
-<div class="verse">No fortune he, but worth himself:</div>
-<div class="verse">This when her parents understood,</div>
-<div class="verse">Hoping it would be for her good,</div>
-<div class="verse">To hinder both their loves intent,</div>
-<div class="verse">To Stokesley, to an uncle sent;</div>
-<div class="verse">At parting, many a sigh and tear,</div>
-<div class="verse">Of love, and truth, thro’ life sincere;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor death should part; for from the grave</div>
-<div class="verse">Short time should the surviver save:</div>
-<div class="verse">She was not gone a week or more,</div>
-<div class="verse">Until this young man sicken’d sore,</div>
-<div class="verse">He sicken’d sore, and heart-broke died,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which pleas’d her parents’ greedy pride;</div>
-<div class="verse">Who to another would her wed,</div>
-<div class="verse">Forgetful what she’d sworn and said.</div>
-<div class="verse">The eve that he in grave was laid,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thus to his wife the father said,</div>
-<div class="verse">A double feed I’ll give my mare,</div>
-<div class="verse">All other things do thou prepare.</div>
-<div class="verse">Lay out thy hood and safeguard too,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ere light for Stokesley I will go;</div>
-<div class="verse">Before thou seest the morrow night,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thou’lt surely see thy daughter bright;</div>
-<div class="verse">And now no fear, he’s dead and gone,</div>
-<div class="verse">A happy bride we’ll make her soon.</div>
-<div class="verse">It was now that dread midnight hour,</div>
-<div class="verse">When restless ghosts their wrongs deplore.</div>
-<div class="verse">James rode up to her uncle’s door,</div>
-<div class="verse">With her father’s horse they drest before.</div>
-<div class="verse">O who is there? the maiden cries:</div>
-<div class="verse">O it is I, the ghost replies:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">The horse, hood, safeguard, come and view,</div>
-<div class="verse">You’ll find a messenger most true:</div>
-<div class="verse">Forthwith with me then instant ride,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor fear nor ill need you betide.</div>
-<div class="verse">When all the uncle understood,</div>
-<div class="verse">Trusting it right and for her good,</div>
-<div class="verse">Help’d her to mount, but made him swear,</div>
-<div class="verse">He’d take her to her father dear.</div>
-<div class="verse">Now when she got him up behind,</div>
-<div class="verse">They travelled faster then the wind;</div>
-<div class="verse">That in two hours, or little more,</div>
-<div class="verse">They came unto her father’s door;</div>
-<div class="verse">And as they did this great haste make,</div>
-<div class="verse">He sore complain’d his head did ache;</div>
-<div class="verse">Her handkerchief she then pull’d out,</div>
-<div class="verse">And tied the same his head about:</div>
-<div class="verse">And as she bound it round his head,</div>
-<div class="verse">My dear, says she, you’re cold as lead;</div>
-<div class="verse">She saw no shadow of her dear,</div>
-<div class="verse">But only of herself and mare.</div>
-<div class="verse">He sets her at her father’s door,</div>
-<div class="verse">And says, your mare has travelled sore;</div>
-<div class="verse">So go you in, and as I’m able,</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ll feed and tend her in your stable.</div>
-<div class="verse">O who is there? the father cries,</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis I, the lovely maid replies:</div>
-<div class="verse">Behind young James I’ve hasted here,</div>
-<div class="verse">As order’d by my parents dear.</div>
-<div class="verse">Which made the hair stand on his head,</div>
-<div class="verse">He knowing that the man was dead.</div>
-<div class="verse">Next in the stable then could he</div>
-<div class="verse">No living shape of mankind see;</div>
-<div class="verse">But found his horse all in a sweat,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which put him in a grievous fret.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>According to the remainder of this old ballad, (which we have been
-unable to collect) the daughter sickens, takes to her bed, and dies, and
-is buried in the same grave; and, on opening his coffin, accordingly as
-the maid had said, her handkerchief was found tied round his head.</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>Hotspur: A BALLAD;<br />
-<i>In the Manner of the Ancient Minstrels.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY MR WILLIAM RICHARDSON.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lady sat in leafy bow’r,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Near Royal <i>Sheene’s</i> fair dome;</div>
-<div class="verse">The Harper, journeying, westward went,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Far, far from friends and home.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His lyre, in grass-green satchel plac’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Hung graceful by his side;</div>
-<div class="verse">Th’ harmonious strings oft murm’ring rang,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As o’er the heaths he hied.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In search was he of <i>Hotspur</i> fam’d.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With tidings from his dame,</div>
-<div class="verse">His fair lady, the lovely <i>Kate</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Since chronicled in fame.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">She pin’d the day, she wept the night,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For her dear absent lord;</div>
-<div class="verse">And days, and weeks, and months flew o’er,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor comfort could afford.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lady sat by winding Thames,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Near where the wand’rer past;</div>
-<div class="verse">And him she beckon’d to draw near</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And thus the Bard address’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“From whence com’st thou? O! sweet Harper.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From whence com’st thou? Tell me;</div>
-<div class="verse">From border of the daring Scot?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Art of the North Countrie?”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“I come not from the fair Scotland;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">(Yet near green <i>Cheviot</i> roam;)</div>
-<div class="verse">From <i>Aln’s</i> sweet, bosky banks I come;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1"><i>Northumberland</i> my home.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Then freely smite thy sweet, sweet lyre,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thy lyre of far-spread fame;</div>
-<div class="verse">The bold Percy&mdash;his castle’s there;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wide swells his warrior name.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“For thou his harper art I ween;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I see gleam on thy vest,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thy paly, cusped, silver moon,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The <i>Saracen’s</i> proud crest.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“His ancestor in fell crusade,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For England’s powerful king,</div>
-<div class="verse">Fought manfully, and did from thence,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That <i>Syrian</i> trophy bring.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With flying touch he swept the strings,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And upward turn’d his eye,</div>
-<div class="verse">As if the <i>genius</i> of the song,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Inspiring, hover’d nigh.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His finger caught the master note,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And soon his ardent face</div>
-<div class="verse">Beam’d, dignified with native fire</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of brave <i>Northumbria’s</i> race.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He sang the deeds of <i>Hotspur</i> bold,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At blood-stain’d <i>Otterbourne</i>:</div>
-<div class="verse">And eke the feats of valiant <i>Ralph</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As furious in his turn.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Two warrior lords, (and brothers they,)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As e’er drew shining brand;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor from the gory field would flinch,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whilst Valour there might stand.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And mournful now, he touch’d the harp,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And, grieving, oft he sigh’d</div>
-<div class="verse">For <i>Widdrington</i>, the mightiest chief</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That e’er in battle died.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The <i>Forster</i>, <i>Fenwick</i>, <i>Collingwood</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The <i>Heron</i> of renown,</div>
-<div class="verse">High in the ranks of Lord Percy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The war-axe hewed down!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He sang the acts of other chiefs,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That by the <i>Reedside</i> fell;</div>
-<div class="verse">The flow’r of val’rous families</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That still near <i>Cheviot</i> dwell.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The heath-hen long, and fallow deer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their native heights did quit;</div>
-<div class="verse">With warrior-blood th’ attainted sward,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Made e’en the gorecock flit!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Percies in that vengeful fight,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Both, both were pris’ners ta’en;</div>
-<div class="verse">But for the Douglas’ dead bodie</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Were yielded up again.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He ceas’d the song, then paused awhile;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Down roll’d the silent tear;</div>
-<div class="verse">The lady, smit with sympathy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Could scarce the like forbear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then stifling back the star-like drop,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With woman’s winning voice,</div>
-<div class="verse">She ask’d if tidings from his lord</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Would not his heart rejoice?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Perchance,” quoth she, “I may you aid,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">(Assuage your troubled breast,)</div>
-<div class="verse">For oh! methinks the task is good</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To comfort the distressed!”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His kerchief to his furrow’d face</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He gently did apply,</div>
-<div class="verse">And bright and fervent shone his front,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">New fire illum’d his eye.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“But thrice the golden circling sun,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Has rubied yonder east,”</div>
-<div class="verse">The lady said, “Since news there came</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From Shrewsb’ry’s hostile waste.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“There <i>Hotspur</i> and his valiant band,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Oppos’d to <i>Tudor’s</i> ire,</div>
-<div class="verse">Encamped lay, and high their hearts</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Beat for the conflict dire.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So having said, her snowy hand</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She plac’d across her brow;</div>
-<div class="verse">“Lo! down by <i>Windingshore’s</i> dim vale,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A Herald’s coming now.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Herald flew on wings of wind,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Swift to the Royal fane;</div>
-<div class="verse">“A victory,” he stoutly cried,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“And valiant <i>Hotspur</i> slain!”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The death-sound pierc’d the Harper’s ear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And instant on the plain</div>
-<div class="verse">He dropt,&mdash;as light’ning had him struck,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor e’er spoke word again.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>August, 1810.</i></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
-<img src="images/footer-vase.jpg" width="200" height="107" alt="Vase of flowers (decorative footer)" />
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>LEGEND<br />
-OF<br />
-<i>SEWEN SHIELDS CASTLE.</i></h2>
-
-<p>This legendary ballad is an un-embellished versification of an old
-tradition, still current in the vicinity of Sewen Shields Castle, in
-Northumberland.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Nought but some dæmon’s baleful step</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For years had pass’d those lands,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where (all its former grandeur fled)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An ancient castle stands.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Where many a lord, and many a knight,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And many a baron bold,</div>
-<div class="verse">The meed of valour oft had won,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or tale of love had told.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Once, too, it held Northumbria’s king</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In days of former fame:</div>
-<div class="verse">But now no courteous tenants boasts&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Sewen Shields<a name="FNanchor_54" id="FNanchor_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> its name.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And there, too, superstition’s spell</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Had cast its gloom around:</div>
-<div class="verse">And none for years had ever been</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Within its precincts found&mdash;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Till Dixon,<a name="FNanchor_55" id="FNanchor_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> young advent’rous swain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who fear’d no mortal arm,</div>
-<div class="verse">Had vow’d to search the site throughout,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And find the hidden charm.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The morning frown’d: he made th’ attempt;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And darker still it grew:</div>
-<div class="verse">And, when he reach’d the castle walls,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The owls portentous flew.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No well-fed porter now was seen</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Within the court to wait:</div>
-<div class="verse">And weeds and mould’ring stones appear’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where stood the lofty gate.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He cross’d the damp deserted halls:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He spoke&mdash;but all in vain;</div>
-<div class="verse">For Echo, from the ruin’s verge,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Return’d his words again.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Through many a passage long and dark</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His weary steps he bent:</div>
-<div class="verse">At length a flight of stairs he saw,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And tried the deep descent.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He felt unwholesome dewy cold,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Yet still pursued his way&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Resolv’d ’till he had all explor’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">No more to view the day.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At length a gleam of light he saw;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A ray of warmth he found:</div>
-<div class="verse">And down the stairs he quickly was,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And trod upon the ground;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And soon, within a chamber large,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A blazing fire perceiv’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">And by its flames a sight he saw,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which else he’d ne’er believ’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A king and queen, in regal state,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Were there by Morpheus chain’d:</div>
-<div class="verse">And o’er the train of courtiers too</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The same still slumber reign’d.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And round the fire some faithful dogs</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their fortunes seem’d to share:</div>
-<div class="verse">And, on a table near, a sword</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And horn were placed there.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">As from the scabbard then, with might,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The blade to draw he tries,</div>
-<div class="verse">As it unsheath’d, with awe he sees</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The sleepers all arise.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Struck with amaze, he put it back.&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The monarch, pierc’d with woe,</div>
-<div class="verse">E’er he return’d to death-like sleep,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thus spoke in accents slow:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“A curse, O Dixon, light on thee!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Why wast thou ever born?</div>
-<div class="verse">Why did thou not the sword draw out,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or wind the bugle horn?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“On them our wish’d release depends.&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A cent’ry now must fly,</div>
-<div class="verse">Before a mortal can again</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To break th’ enchantment try.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And now, oppress’d by slumbers dire,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He sank, till kinder fate</div>
-<div class="verse">Should send some knight, who might restore</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His former envied state.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For Dixon, who these wonders saw,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And hope both rais’d and crush’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Soon left th’ apartment, as at first,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In solemn silence hush’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And never since, as records say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Has mortal ventur’d there;</div>
-<div class="verse">But all, with superstitious dread,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The sleeping king revere.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_54" id="Footnote_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> Sewen Shields, or Shewing Sheels, about 28 miles west of
-Newcastle, is a Roman Castle, 22 yards by 30, having entrances on
-the east, south, and west, with a foss on three sides, remarkably bold;
-and on the fourth Serverus’s wall. It has had four turrets, one at
-each corner. See <i>Hutton’s Desc. of the Rom. Wall</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_55" id="Footnote_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> The name of the shepherd to whom tradition records this circumstance
-to have occurred.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The following old Northumbrian ballad was taken down from
-the recitation of a woman eighty years of age, mother to one of
-the miners in Alston-moor, by an agent for the lead mines
-there, and communicated to the Editor by Robert Surtees,
-Esquire, of Mainsforth. She had not, she said, heard it for
-many years; but when she was a girl, it used to be sung at
-merry makings, “till the roof rung again.”</p>
-
-<p><i>N.B.</i> This ballad was first printed in Scott’s celebrated Poem of
-MARMION, with several valuable notes; for which see the notes to
-canto first of that Poem.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Hoot awa’, lads, hoot awa’,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ha’ ye heard how the Ridleys, and Thirwalls, and a’,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ha’ set upon Awbony<a name="FNanchor_56" id="FNanchor_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> Featherstonhaugh,</div>
-<div class="verse">And taken his life at the Deadmanshaugh;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">There was Willimoteswick,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And Hardriding Dick,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Hughie of Hawden, and Will of the Wa’,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">I canno’ tell a’, I canno’ tell a’,</div>
-<div class="verse">And mony a mair that the deil may knaw.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The auld man went down, but Nicol, his son,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ran away afore the fight was begun;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And he run, and he run,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And afore they were done,</div>
-<div class="verse">There was many a Featherston gat sic a stun,</div>
-<div class="verse">As never was seen since the world begun.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I canna’ tell a’, I canna’ tell a’;</div>
-<div class="verse">Some gat a skelp, and some gat a claw;</div>
-<div class="verse">But they gard the Featherstons haud their jaw,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Nicol, and Alick, and a’.</div>
-<div class="verse">Some gat a hurt, and some gat nane;</div>
-<div class="verse">Some had harness, and some gat sta’en.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent3">Ane gat a twist o’ the craig;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Ane gat a bunch o’ the wame;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Symy Haw gat lam’d of a leg,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">And syne ran wallowing hame.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Hoot, hoot, the auld man’s slain outright!</div>
-<div class="verse">Lay him now wi’ his face down:&mdash;he’s a sorrowful sight.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Janet, thou donot,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">I’ll lay my best bonnet,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thou gets a new gude-man afore it be night.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Hoo away, lads, hoo away,</div>
-<div class="verse">Wi’s a’ be hangid if we stay.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Tak’ up the dead man, and lay him ahint the bigging;</div>
-<div class="verse">Here’s the Bailey o’ Haltwhistle,</div>
-<div class="verse">Wi’ his great bull’s pizzle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That sup’d up the broo’, and syne&mdash;in the piggin.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_56" id="Footnote_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> The local pronunciation for Albany.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2><i>The following Lines are cut on a Tombstone in Haltwhistle
-Church Yard, Northumberland.</i></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ihon Redle that som tim did be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The laird of the Waltoun;</div>
-<div class="verse">Gon is he out of thes vale of misery,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His bons lies under this ston.</div>
-<div class="verse">We must beleve be God’s mersy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Into thes world gave hes son;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then for to redem al christens,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So Christ haes hes soul woon.</div>
-<div class="verse">All faithful peple may be faen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When dath coms, that non can fre:</div>
-<div class="verse">The bode kept the soul in paen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Through Christ is set at liberte.</div>
-<div class="verse">Among blesed compane to remaen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To slep in Christ nowe is he gon;</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet stil beleves to hav again,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Though Christ a jouful resurrecshon.</div>
-<div class="verse">Al frends ma be glad to hear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When hes soul from paen did go:</div>
-<div class="verse">Out of this world as doeth appear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In the year of our Lord, 1562.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p><i>N.B.</i> The above John Ridley is supposed to have been brother to
-Bishop Ridley, who was burnt at Oxford, October 16th, 1555, he was
-the possessor of, and lived at Wall-town, and was one of the ancestors
-of the present Sir Matthew White Ridley, of Blagdon, in Northumberland,
-M.P. for Newcastle.</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>LINES<br />
-<i>Written at an Inn, in that very retired and romantic Part of
-Northumberland, the Banks of the ALLAN.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY GEORGE PICKERING.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>November, 1787.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Howl on ye winds, and beat ye rains,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ye torrents roar o’er yonder linn,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Allen swell thy rapid stream,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I careless view thee from an Inn.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The trees that late appear’d so green,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To drop their foliage now begin:</div>
-<div class="verse">They waft a moral to mine ear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">While pensive sitting at an Inn.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">See winter comes with all his train,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I hear his loud, his arctic din:</div>
-<div class="verse">Why let him come, I fear him not,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I sit in comfort at an Inn.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When age, life’s winter, shall appear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then reason whispers from within;</div>
-<div class="verse">Eternity’s our wish’d for home,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The world at best is but an Inn.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>LUCY GRAY OF ALLENDALE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Oh, have you seen the blushing rose,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The blooming pink, or lilly pale,</div>
-<div class="verse">Fairer than any flow’r that blows</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Is Lucy Gray of Allendale.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Pensive and sad o’er braes and burn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where oft the nymph they us’d to hail;</div>
-<div class="verse">The shepherds now are heard to mourn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For Lucy Gray of Allendale.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With her to join the rural dance,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Far have I stray’d o’er hill and dale,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where, pleas’d, each rustic stole a glance,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At Lucy Gray of Allendale.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">’Twas underneath yon hawthorn shade,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That first I told the tender tale,</div>
-<div class="verse">But now low lays the lovely maid,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sweet Lucy Gray of Allendale.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Bleak blows the wind, keen beats the rain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Upon my cottage in the vale;</div>
-<div class="verse">Long may I mourn, a lonely swain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For Lucy Gray of Allendale.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>HALTWHISTLE FAIR.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The day was quite pleasant, the Fourteenth of May,</div>
-<div class="verse">When most of the neighbours began to look gay,</div>
-<div class="verse">Such brushing, and washing, and dressing was there,</div>
-<div class="verse">And nothing was talk’d of but Haltwhistle Fair.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">You may be quite sure I was pleas’d to the heart,</div>
-<div class="verse">To think I was going there to act my part;</div>
-<div class="verse">While pleasure is going, I will have my share,</div>
-<div class="verse">And see the nice lasses at Haltwhistle Fair.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Old Hetelwood briskly attended his boat,</div>
-<div class="verse">And jested the Ladies while they were afloat;</div>
-<div class="verse">He landed them all with a great deal of care,</div>
-<div class="verse">And wish’d them all sweethearts at Haltwhistle Fair.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We enter’d the town with a great deal of glee,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where hawkers and pedlers in scores you might see:</div>
-<div class="verse">The task would be endless to tell of the ware</div>
-<div class="verse">They had put up for sale at Haltwhistle Fair.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The spade and the shuttle neglected they lay,</div>
-<div class="verse">The tailor his trimmings and cloth put away,</div>
-<div class="verse">The smith threw his hammer down&mdash;You may lie there,</div>
-<div class="verse">For this day I’ll make one at Haltwhistle Fair.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The man in the barn he threw down his flail,</div>
-<div class="verse">And came to this place for a drink of good ale;</div>
-<div class="verse">The coal-pits were empty, no person was there,</div>
-<div class="verse">They went like their neighbours to Haltwhistle Fair.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Old women on crutches, who hardly could go,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who had kept their beds for a twelvemonth or so,</div>
-<div class="verse">With grey beards, whose noddles were hoary or bare,</div>
-<div class="verse">All came for a look at old Haltwhistle Fair.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Some people, they say, were so very keen,</div>
-<div class="verse">As came with a view but to see and be seen,</div>
-<div class="verse">And got so well pleas’d, they did vow and declare,</div>
-<div class="verse">They never again would miss Haltwhistle Fair.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">You have heard of Miss Bouncer, without any doubt,</div>
-<div class="verse">What beauty she is from the head to the foot:</div>
-<div class="verse">No business whatever had I, I declare,</div>
-<div class="verse">But to see the dear creature at Haltwhistle Fair.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I looked about, my dear charmer to see,</div>
-<div class="verse">I gaz’d at the crowd, and the crowd gaz’d at me;</div>
-<div class="verse">At length I espy’d her&mdash;My dear, are you there?</div>
-<div class="verse">I’m happy to see you at Haltwhistle Fair.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">While music is going, I will have a dance,</div>
-<div class="verse">So took in my fair one to caper and prance;</div>
-<div class="verse">She danc’d a nice jig, keeping time to a hair,</div>
-<div class="verse">And beat all the lasses at Haltwhistle Fair.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Miss Bouncer was so very loving and kind,</div>
-<div class="verse">She smil’d in my face, while she drank up my wine;</div>
-<div class="verse">Of punch and of cakes, oh my dear had her share,</div>
-<div class="verse">And I paid expences at Haltwhistle Fair.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So kind and so loving, what less could I do,</div>
-<div class="verse">Than buy the dear creature a fairing or two;</div>
-<div class="verse">Some things that she fancied, I paid for I swear.</div>
-<div class="verse">Says she, I shall oft think on Haltwhistle Fair.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With very good judgment, and very good sense,</div>
-<div class="verse">I brought down my shillings to so many pence:</div>
-<div class="verse">And sometime near midnight it fell to my share,</div>
-<div class="verse">To see home Miss Bouncer, from Haltwhistle Fair.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I will grow very careful, and that you shall see,</div>
-<div class="verse">To try if Miss Bouncer and me can agree;</div>
-<div class="verse">Each shilling and sixpence I will hurd up with care,</div>
-<div class="verse">In hopes for to spend them next Haltwhistle Fair.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>ANNA OF THE TYNE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A bonny swain, blithe Sandy nam’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who’d muckle land and kine,</div>
-<div class="verse">A lassie lov’d, for beauty fam’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fair Anna of the Tyne.</div>
-<div class="verse">And thus would Sandy joyous sing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Fair maid, O be but mine;</div>
-<div class="verse">More blest I’d be than laird or king,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With Anna of the Tyne.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Kind youth,” she cried, “nae kine or land,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor money I’ve in store;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then cease to ask my humble hand,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor wed a maid so poor.”</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet still would Sandy joyous sing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Fair maid, O be but mine;</div>
-<div class="verse">More blest I’d be than laird or king,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With Anna of the Tyne.”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“For Anna thou art rich in charms,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The wealth of worlds to me;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then wed, and bless thy lover’s arms.”</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She smil’d, and blest was he.</div>
-<div class="verse">How rapturous then did Sandy sing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Now, now, the fair one’s mine;</div>
-<div class="verse">I am more bless’d then laird or king,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With Anna of the Tyne!”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE TYNE.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By Henry Robson.</i>&mdash;1807.</p>
-
-<p>Henry Robson, the author of this, as also of the <i>Collier’s Pay
-Week</i>, see page 38, was born at Benwell, near Newcastle; and is now
-residing at the latter place, where, besides the above, he has written
-several pieces of poetry, possessing a considerable degree of merit.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In Britain’s blest island there runs a fine river,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Far fam’d for the <i>ore</i> it conveys from the mine:</div>
-<div class="verse">Northumbria’s pride, and that district doth sever</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From Durham’s rising hills, and ’tis called&mdash;<i>The Tyne</i>.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Flow on, lovely Tyne, undisturb’d be thy motion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Thy sons hold the threats of proud France in disdain;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">As long as thy waters shall mix with the ocean,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">The fleets of Old England will govern the main.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Other rivers for fame have by poets been noted</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In many a soft-sounding musical line;</div>
-<div class="verse">But for <i>sailors</i> and <i>coals</i> never one was yet quoted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Could vie with the choicest of rivers&mdash;the Tyne.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Flow on, lovely Tyne, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When Collingwood conquer’d our foes so completely,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And gain’d a fine laurel his brow to entwine;</div>
-<div class="verse">In order to manage the matter quite neatly,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Mann’d his vessel with tars from the banks of the Tyne.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Flow on, lovely Tyne, &amp;c.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thou dearest of rivers, oft times have I wander’d</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thy margin along when oppressed with grief,</div>
-<div class="verse">And thought of thy stream, as it onward meander’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The murmuring melody gave me relief.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Flow on, lovely Tyne, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">From the fragrant wild-flowers which blow on thy border</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The playful Zephyrus oft steals an embrace,</div>
-<div class="verse">And curling thy surface in beauteous order,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The willows bend forward to kiss thy clear face.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Flow on, lovely Tyne, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">One favour I crave&mdash;O kind Fortune befriend me&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When downhill I totter, in nature’s decline;&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">A competent income&mdash;if this thou wilt send me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’ll dwindle out life on the banks of the Tyne.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Flow on, lovely Tyne, undisturb’d be thy motion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Thy sons hold the threats of proud France in disdain;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">As long as thy waters shall mix with the ocean,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">The fleets of Old England will govern the main.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE SPRING.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Written the beginning of May, 1809.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">BY HENRY ROBSON.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now the feathered train in each bush,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Court their mates, and love’s melody sing&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">The blackbird, the linnet, and thrush,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Make the echoing vallies to ring:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The bird with the crimson-dy’d breast,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From the hamlet has made his remove;</div>
-<div class="verse">To join his love-song with the rest,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And woo his fond mate in the grove.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lark, high in æther afloat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Each morn, at the usher of day,</div>
-<div class="verse">Attunes his wild-warbling throat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And sings his melodious lay.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yon bank lately cover’d with snow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Now smiles in the spring’s bloomy pride;</div>
-<div class="verse">And the sweet-scented primroses grow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Near the streamlet’s sweet-gurgling tide.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To the banks of the Tyne we’ll away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And view th’ enrapturing scene;</div>
-<div class="verse">While Flora, the goddess of May,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With her flow’rets bespangles the green.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE BANKS OF THE TYNE.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY JAMES WILSON.</p>
-
-<p>James Wilson, the author of this, and the four following
-poetical pieces, belonged to Hexham, where he taught school until he
-removed to Morpeth, under pecuniary embarrassment: while here,
-he found a friend in the late Wallis Ogle, Esq. and was by him conducted
-to Cawsey Park School, where he shortly after died. When
-at Hexham, he published a volume of Poems printed by T. Angus,
-Newcastle, in 1778.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Apollo, your aid I request,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Direct and embellish each line;</div>
-<div class="verse">With influence warm my breast,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To sing the sweet Banks of the Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If Phœbus proposes the theme,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Both reason and duty combine,</div>
-<div class="verse">To pay my respects to the stream,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And honour the Banks of the Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Here oft with great pleasure I stray,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor ever find cause to repine,</div>
-<div class="verse">While Nature’s rich beauties display</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Themselves on the Banks of the Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Here Liberty’s pleas’d to resort,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her banners with lustre here shine;</div>
-<div class="verse">No place, since she left the vile court,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Can please like the Banks of the Tyne.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Her sons are with Liberty fir’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their Freedom they’ll never resign;</div>
-<div class="verse">But what their forefathers acquir’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Defend on the Banks of the Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The man let me freely explain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who would as a senator shine,</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis <span class="smcap">Theron</span>, who holds his domain</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Enclos’d by the Banks of the Tyne.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><i>The following <span class="smcap">Ode</span>, addressed to Sir <span class="smcap">Walter Blackett</span>, Bart.
-was wrote by the Author, on the very Day that the Building
-of <span class="smcap">Hexham Bridge</span> was undertaken.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">BY JAMES WILSON.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ye sacred nine descend,</div>
-<div class="verse">Aid to my muse O lend,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Whilst I rehearse:</div>
-<div class="verse">Bind round my head the bays,</div>
-<div class="verse">My humble genius raise,</div>
-<div class="verse">And teach me how to praise</div>
-<div class="verse indent2"><span class="smcap">Blackett</span>, in verse.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Hard is the task impos’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Glorious the end propos’d;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Hark! it succeeds:</div>
-<div class="verse">Heaven would surely frown,</div>
-<div class="verse">And with contempt look down,</div>
-<div class="verse">Should we forget to own</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">His noble deeds.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse"><i>Hexham</i> no more shall weep,</div>
-<div class="verse">At Tyne’s redundant sweep,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And pregnant shore;</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Blackett</i> the path will pave,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which scorns the threat’ning wave,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where all with joy will have</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Safe passage o’er.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">See him with ev’ry age,</div>
-<div class="verse">Soft’ning the bitter rage,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Of Poverty:</div>
-<div class="verse">As he approaches nigh,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ope the strong bolts do fly,</div>
-<div class="verse">To set, with heart-felt joy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">The wretched free.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Titus the great did say,</div>
-<div class="verse">Gods! I have lost a day:</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Fatal mistake;</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Blackett</i> more great than he,</div>
-<div class="verse">Never that day can see,</div>
-<div class="verse">But numbers chearfully,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Sing for his sake.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">May Heaven his life prolong,</div>
-<div class="verse">To swell the Poet’s song</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Till there arise,</div>
-<div class="verse">One that’s as good as he,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then let him wafted be,</div>
-<div class="verse">To spend eternity,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Above the skies.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p class="center"><i>The following Lines, written on laying the Foundation-stone
-of <span class="smcap">Hexham Bridge</span>, the Author had the Honour to read at
-the Head of the Table, at the sumptuous Entertainment given
-by Sir <span class="smcap">Walter Blackett</span>, on the Occasion</i>.</p>
-
-<p class="center">BY JAMES WILSON.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Unsullied mirth attend this feast,</div>
-<div class="verse">Let joy shine forth in every guest,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And ev’ry face look gay:</div>
-<div class="verse">Let not a cloud depress the scene,</div>
-<div class="verse">But all look chearful and serene,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">’Tis our rejoicing day.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come, Joy, with all thy smiling train,</div>
-<div class="verse">Here take thy rest, securely reign,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">See Phœbus shines more bright;</div>
-<div class="verse">Here will we this great day adorn,</div>
-<div class="verse">Till Cynthea with her silver horn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Illuminates the night.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A bridge o’er Tyne! our joy’s complete,</div>
-<div class="verse">With rapture we its author greet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Our breasts exult and sing;</div>
-<div class="verse">This bliss consummates all our care.</div>
-<div class="verse">Now Hexham and Elysium are,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">But two words for one thing.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>A SONG,</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Composed by MR JAMES WILSON, of Cawsey Park, on Mr
-Coughron<a name="FNanchor_57" id="FNanchor_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> and Family, leaving Hebron Hill</i>.</p>
-
-<p class="center">(Dated 4th May, 1784.)</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To fertile soil, and fragrant air,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Be it, great God, thy will</div>
-<div class="verse">To guard, with thy parental care,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My friends of Hebron Hill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In some luxuriant calm retreat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where nature may instil</div>
-<div class="verse">Her choicest charms&mdash;there make a seat</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For those of Hebron Hill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Bestow, by thy all-bounteous hand,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The richest turf to till;</div>
-<div class="verse">And crops increase at thy command,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To those of Hebron Hill.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">May providence protect them, there,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And virtue’s vest their will:</div>
-<div class="verse">And copious comforts ever share,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With those of Hebron Hill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With friendly neighbours let them live,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Renown’d for wit and skill;</div>
-<div class="verse">And grace, and glory, amply give,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Those now on Hebron Hill.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">My heart expands by lib’ral love,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Twill with fruition fill,</div>
-<div class="verse">If pristine powers propitious prove,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To all at Hebron Hill.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_57" id="Footnote_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> Brother of George Coughron, the celebrated mathematician, who
-died at Newcastle, 7th January, 1774, Aged 21.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>HOBBY ELLIOTT.</h2>
-
-<p>This song is said to have been written by a Mr James Robson, Stone
-Mason, at Thropton, near Rothbury, who was leader of the band
-in the Pretender’s Army, in 1715: he wrote a Satyr on Women, and
-several other pieces, while confined prisoner at Preston, in Lancashire.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O bonny Hobby Elliott,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">O canny Hobby still,</div>
-<div class="verse">O bonny Hobby Elliott,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who lives at Harlow-hill:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Had Hobby acted right,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As he has seldom done,</div>
-<div class="verse">He would have kiss’d his wife,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And let his maid alone.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE RISING OF THE CLANS IN 1715.</h2>
-
-<p>Though this may be considered a Scotch song, yet mentioning
-several Northumberland families, warrants its insertion here. Several
-notes and particulars illustrating it may be found in the History of
-the Rebellion in the year 1715, by Robert Patten, Priest of Allendale,
-who, though one of the Rebels, saved his life by being evidence against
-his associates, and writing, what he called, An Impartial Account of
-the Rebellion.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Little wat ye wha’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">Little wat ye wha’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">Little wat ye wha’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">Long Tommy Lee’s a coming.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Duncan’s coming, Donald’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">Colin’s coming, Ronald’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">Dougal’s coming, Lauchlan’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">Alaster and a’s coming.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Little wat ye wha’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Jock and Tam and a’s coming.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Borland and his men’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">The Camerons and McLeans’ coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">The Gordons and McGregors’ coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">A’ the Dunywastles’ coming,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Little wat ye wha’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">McGilvrey of Drumglass is coming.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Wigton’s coming, Nithsdale’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">Carnwath’s coming, Kenmure’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">Derwentwater and Foster’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">Widdrington and Nairn’s coming.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Little wat ye wha’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Blyth Cowhill and a’s coming.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Laird of McIntosh is coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">McCarbie and McDonald’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse">The McKenzies and McPhersons’ coming.</div>
-<div class="verse">A’ the wild McCraws’ coming.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Little wat ye wha’s coming,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Donald Gun and a’s coming.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They gloom, they glowr, they look sae big,</div>
-<div class="verse">At ilka stroke they’ll fell a Whig;</div>
-<div class="verse">They’ll fright the fuds of the Pockpuds,</div>
-<div class="verse">For mony a buttock bare’s coming.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Little wat ye wha’s coming.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>ON THE FIRST REBELLION.&mdash;1715.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Mackintosh was a soldier brave,</div>
-<div class="verse">And of his friends he took his leave,</div>
-<div class="verse">Towards Northumberland he drew,</div>
-<div class="verse">Marching along with a jovial crew.<a name="FNanchor_58" id="FNanchor_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lord Derwentwater he did say,</div>
-<div class="verse">Five hundred guineas he would lay,</div>
-<div class="verse">To fight the militia, if they would stay,</div>
-<div class="verse">But they prov’d cowards and ran away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The earl of Mar did vow and swear,</div>
-<div class="verse">That if e’er proud Preston he did come near,</div>
-<div class="verse">Before the right should starve and the wrong stand,</div>
-<div class="verse">He’d blow them into some foreign land.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lord Derwentwater he did say,</div>
-<div class="verse">When he mounted on his dapple grey,</div>
-<div class="verse">I wish that we were at home with speed,</div>
-<div class="verse">For I fear we are all betray’d indeed.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Adzounds, said Forster,<a name="FNanchor_59" id="FNanchor_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> never fear,</div>
-<div class="verse">For the Brunswick army is not near;</div>
-<div class="verse">If they should come, our valour we’ll show,</div>
-<div class="verse">We will give them the total overthrow.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lord Derwentwater then he found,</div>
-<div class="verse">That Forster drew his left wing round;</div>
-<div class="verse">I wish I was with my dear wife,</div>
-<div class="verse">For now I do fear I shall lose my life.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Mackintosh he shook his head,</div>
-<div class="verse">To see the soldiers there lie dead:</div>
-<div class="verse">It is not so much for the loss of those,</div>
-<div class="verse">But I fear we are all took by our foes.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Mackintosh was a valiant soldier,</div>
-<div class="verse">He carried his musket on his shoulder:</div>
-<div class="verse">Cock your pistols, draw your rapier,</div>
-<div class="verse">And damn you, Forster, you are a traitor.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lord Derwentwater to Forster did say,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thou hast prov’d our ruin this very day;</div>
-<div class="verse">Thou hast promised to stand our friend,</div>
-<div class="verse">But thou hast proved a rogue in the end.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lord Derwentwater to Litchfield did ride,</div>
-<div class="verse">In his coach, and attendance by his side;</div>
-<div class="verse">He swore if he dy’d by the point of a sword,</div>
-<div class="verse">He’d drink a health to the man he lov’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thou Forster has brought us from our own home,</div>
-<div class="verse">Leaving our estates for others to come;</div>
-<div class="verse">Thou treacherous rogue, thou hast betray’d:</div>
-<div class="verse">We are all ruin’d, lord Derwentwater said.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lord Derwentwater he was condemn’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">And near unto his latter end,</div>
-<div class="verse">And then his lady she did cry,</div>
-<div class="verse">My dear Derwentwater he must die.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lord Derwentwater he is dead,<a name="FNanchor_60" id="FNanchor_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">And from his body they took his head;</div>
-<div class="verse">But Mackintosh and some others are fled,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who’d set the hat on another man’s head.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_58" id="Footnote_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Mackintosh’s Battalion consisted of thirteen companies of fifty
-men each.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_59" id="Footnote_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> Thomas Forster, jun. of Etherston, near Belford, in Northumberland,
-member of Parliament of the said county, was made general of the
-Pretender’s Army; he was taken prisoner at Preston, but afterwards
-escaped out of Newgate, 1716.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_60" id="Footnote_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> James Radclyffe, Earl of Derwentwater, was beheaded on Tower
-Hill, 24th February, 1715-16.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><i>A <span class="smcap">Fragment</span> of a Song, on the <span class="smcap">Lord</span> of
-<span class="smcap">Derwentwater</span></i>.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The king has written a broad letter,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And seal’d it up with gold;</div>
-<div class="verse">And sent it to the lord of Derwentwater,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To read it if he would.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He sent it with no boy, no boy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor yet with e’er a slave;</div>
-<div class="verse">But he sent it with as good a knight,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As e’er a king could have.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When he read the three first lines,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He then began to smile;</div>
-<div class="verse">And when he read the three next lines,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The tears began to sile.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>VERSES<br />
-<i>On a perspective View of Dilston Hall, the Seat of the
-unfortunate James, Earl of Derwentwater.</i></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">How mournful feeble Nature’s tone,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When Dilston Hall appears:</div>
-<div class="verse">Where none’s to wait the orphan’s moan,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor dry the widow’s tears!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The helpless aged poor survey,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">This building as it stands;</div>
-<div class="verse">In moving anguish heard to say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">(And weeping wring their hands)</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The bounteous earl, he is no more,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who once adorn’d this plain;</div>
-<div class="verse">Reliev’d the needy at his door,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And freely did sustain.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Here flowing plenty once did reign,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which gladden’d ev’ry face;</div>
-<div class="verse">But now, alas! reversed scene,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For owls a dwelling place.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The tim’rous deer hath left the lawn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The oak a victim falls;</div>
-<div class="verse">The gentle trav’ler sighs when shewn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">These desolated walls.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Each gen’rous mind emotion feels,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With pious pity mov’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">No breast its anguish yet conceals,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For one so well belov’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Let no unhallow’d tongue, or servile slave,</div>
-<div class="verse">Their partial clamour vent beyond the grave;</div>
-<div class="verse">But let the noble Dead his honours wear;</div>
-<div class="verse">His fault deplore, his virtue still revere:</div>
-<div class="verse">Tho’ err he did, he finish’d the debate,</div>
-<div class="verse">With his own blood, and Radclyffe’s fair estate.</div>
-<div class="verse">The aged farmer, tott’ring o’er the green,</div>
-<div class="verse">Leans on his staff, recounts the days he’s seen:</div>
-<div class="verse">Informs the list’ning youth by his record,</div>
-<div class="verse">How bless’d his roof, how plenteous was his board;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor rack’d by Derwent’s hospitable lord.</div>
-<div class="verse">He stops his tale, involv’d in grief profound;</div>
-<div class="verse">He sighs, he weeps, and feebly strikes the ground;</div>
-<div class="verse">Cries, why rehearse these golden days of yore,</div>
-<div class="verse">Since they to me, to me can be no more!</div>
-<div class="verse">The clement heart, and curious, often calls</div>
-<div class="verse">To view the naked park, and stripped walls:</div>
-<div class="verse">E’en the damp walls their stony tears impart,</div>
-<div class="verse">As if their master’s wound had pierc’d their heart.</div>
-<div class="verse">Ye pensive mutes, ’tentive on Dilston wait,</div>
-<div class="verse">And mourn, eternal Radclyffe’s tragic fate!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>HEXHAM WOOD.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In former times where Hexham town doth stand,</div>
-<div class="verse">A wood there was which cover’d miles of land;</div>
-<div class="verse">Even all the trees that on the common stood,</div>
-<div class="verse">Were merely twigs compar’d to this great wood.</div>
-<div class="verse">In all directions on each side of Tyne,</div>
-<div class="verse">More boundless than the noted Apennine;</div>
-<div class="verse">And by some modern authors ’tis agreed,</div>
-<div class="verse">Some branches of this wood are planted near to Tweed.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">These northern parts confess’d it’s balmy shade,</div>
-<div class="verse">An asylum to those reduced in trade:</div>
-<div class="verse">Resource they found&mdash;the charter was so good,</div>
-<div class="verse">They were secure if shelter’d by this wood.</div>
-<div class="verse">In Sherwood Forest many a prank was play’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which thro’ tradition is to us display’d:</div>
-<div class="verse">Though Hexham could ne’er boast a Robin Hood,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet little John did much frequent this wood.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A motley race&mdash;the libertine and harlot,</div>
-<div class="verse">Supplied the place of Stutely and Will Scarlet.</div>
-<div class="verse">Within the covert of this wood did rove,</div>
-<div class="verse">The town bred bucks, with sly intrigues of love:</div>
-<div class="verse">The yielding females felt an equal flame,</div>
-<div class="verse">To taste love’s joys when near this wood they came;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor justice fac’d, nor e’er a penance stood,</div>
-<div class="verse">The offspring still was call’d by name of wood.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A wood so much renown’d, you may be sure</div>
-<div class="verse">The Bank of England was’nt thought more secure.</div>
-<div class="verse">The miser here, his interest found so good,</div>
-<div class="verse">He quite forgot that wood was only wood!</div>
-<div class="verse">How fleeting are the joys of all this world,</div>
-<div class="verse">How soon our hopes are all to Chaos hurl’d:</div>
-<div class="verse">A storm near equal unto Noah’s flood,</div>
-<div class="verse">Relentless came, and swept away this wood.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Even not one solid trunk there did remain,</div>
-<div class="verse">All batter’d remnants scatter’d o’er the plain:</div>
-<div class="verse">The nymphs lamenting for their dear resort,</div>
-<div class="verse">This wood is gone, alas! our chief support;</div>
-<div class="verse">All was confusion both to high and low,</div>
-<div class="verse">At this most sad and unexpected blow.</div>
-<div class="verse">Ye empty fops, now take the hint for good,</div>
-<div class="verse">No more your offspring can be laid to wood.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Hexham, 28th February, 1803.</i></p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE LOYAL HEXHAM VOLUNTEERS.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>A NEW SONG.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">WRITTEN BY JASPER POTTS.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Britannia scarce had planted the olive on our isle,</div>
-<div class="verse">Ere French insidious policy our future hopes beguile;</div>
-<div class="verse">Regardless of their former league, bent on despotic sway,</div>
-<div class="verse">Each British subject’s property they think to make their prey.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">But may each loyal Briton</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Now offer hand and heart,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">To frustrate their intention,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">And humble Bonaparte.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our island still was loyal when dangers were at hand,</div>
-<div class="verse">Uniting in one common cause to guard our native land:</div>
-<div class="verse">Amongst the rest, the gallant sons of Hexham’s worth record,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our sea girt isle, for to protect, and peace to have restor’d.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">And may each faithful subject</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Profess the same intent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Our lives and properties to guard</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">In peace and sweet content.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The oath that we have taken, which some seem much to fear,</div>
-<div class="verse">Is the duty of each subject as well as volunteer,</div>
-<div class="verse">Tho’ we may have no property to fall a prey to France,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet for our friends and families our service should advance.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Ye loyal lads of Hexham,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Since danger now appears,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Join the arm’d association</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Call’d the Hexham Volunteers.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">While Captain Carr commands we will stand firm and true,</div>
-<div class="verse">His knowledge as an officer will stand a strict review,</div>
-<div class="verse">In spite of party slander, our oath we will maintain,</div>
-<div class="verse">Obedient to our officers, and peace for to regain.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">And if an opportunity</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Of courage for to shew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">I hope the Hexham Volunteers</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Will to their oath stand true.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So to conclude these lines I’ve made, I hope you’ll all agree,</div>
-<div class="verse">And drink a health to Captain Carr, and all his family,</div>
-<div class="verse">And to our other officers, much praise to whom is due,</div>
-<div class="verse">And to the Hexham Volunteers, so loyal and so true.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">British courage once again</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">To England peace restore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">And plant the olive in a soil</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">More lasting than before.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE JOLLY PARSON.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Doctor Moff once more employs the burden of my song,</div>
-<div class="verse">He drinks a health to him that’s blest with constitution strong:</div>
-<div class="verse">He laughs and winks at him that drinks, and he’ll bett five pounds, sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">He’ll toast his lass, and drink his glass, and tally O the hounds, sir.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And every morn this priest does rise, he does put on his boots, sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">For chance the hounds may come this way, to join in the pursuit, sir:</div>
-<div class="verse">He’ll risk a fall, o’er hedge or wall, or nearest the hounds, sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">And if he can, he leads the van, and tally O the hounds, sir.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Saint Stephen’s day, that holy morn, as he was reading mass sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">He heard the music of the hounds, the bugles they came past, sir;</div>
-<div class="verse">He shut the book, his flock forsook, and streight threw off his gown, sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">He mounts his horse, to join the course, and tally O the hounds, sir.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This parson had a pair to wed, the hounds they came in view sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">He threw his surplice o’er his head, and bad the pair adieu, sir:</div>
-<div class="verse">They both did pray, that he might stay, for they were not half bound, sir!</div>
-<div class="verse">He bid them go to bed that night, he’d tally O the hounds, sir.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">What think you of this priest of mine, he’s sure an honest heart, sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">His praise is worthy of my song, he has neither pride nor art, sir:</div>
-<div class="verse">He ne’er opprest, the poor distrest, none e’er his praise disowns, sir,</div>
-<div class="verse">As he thinks’t no crime, at any time, to tally O the hounds, sir.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 120px;">
-<img src="images/footer-deco.jpg" width="120" height="43" alt="(decorative footer)" />
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE COCKLE PARK EWES’ RAMBLE.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune.</i>&mdash;John of Badenyon.</p>
-
-<h3>PART I.</h3>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Or the First Day’s Ride.&mdash;March 4th, 1811.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The first of March, from <span class="smcap">Cockle Park</span>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A flock of sheep did stray,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which disappeared in the dark,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And were not miss’d next day;</div>
-<div class="verse">North west, by north, in zig-zag route,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To their late home did hie,</div>
-<div class="verse">By innate instinct taught no doubt,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their yeaning time drew nigh.<a name="FNanchor_61" id="FNanchor_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They thirty hours a-head had got,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Upon their tour intent;</div>
-<div class="verse">On searching ev’ry local spot,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A second day was spent;</div>
-<div class="verse">The third I mounted&mdash;by Priest’s Bridge,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Heron’s Close I veer’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">To Harelaw Heights, and Ruffhill Ridge,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Stanton Steads I steer’d.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To Southwardedge, Doehill, and Rea,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Smallburn, and the Haredean,</div>
-<div class="verse">Blackpool, Todburn, and Garretlea,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Horsley Moor I’d been;</div>
-<div class="verse">At Westerheugh, and Sunnyside,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The Busygap also,</div>
-<div class="verse">Each collier’s cot, and creeks beside,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">High Hezleyhurst, and Low.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">On wand’ring westward through Wardshill,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I there found the first three;</div>
-<div class="verse">And heard the mass amissing still,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Had march’d towards the Lee;</div>
-<div class="verse">I hir’d the herd, these to retain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Till in pursuit I went,</div>
-<div class="verse">To bring the others back again,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But quickly lost the scent.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">True, I some stragglers overtook,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Near Leehead, with their lambs;</div>
-<div class="verse">And all the rest had cross’d the brook,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But these indulgent dams:</div>
-<div class="verse">The fugitives fecundity,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Allow’d of no delay;</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet found it would difficult be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">More to collect that day.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Myself fatigu’d, and found my nag,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fail of his wonted powers;</div>
-<div class="verse">For want of food we both did fag,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By trav’ling twelve long hours.</div>
-<div class="verse">So I resolved then to ride</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Home at an easy pace;</div>
-<div class="verse">A gross of hand-bills to provide,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And hence resume the chase.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p>
-
-<h3>PART II.</h3>
-
-<p class="center"><i>March 5th, 1811.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Next day to the Thatchmeadows, I</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">(The forest skirts to scour)</div>
-<div class="verse">Coldrife, and Quarryhouse pass’d by,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Newbiggin’s bleak moor:</div>
-<div class="verse">Bullbush, Blueburn, and Blagdon Brakes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I carefully did scan;</div>
-<div class="verse">But none on these extensive tracts,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Were seen by any man.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ward’s Intake, Hut, and Shepherd’s Shield,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Coldside, and Moralhurst;</div>
-<div class="verse">By Forestburn, and Meadowfield,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Holyhill I cours’d:</div>
-<div class="verse">Hence Lordenshaws, and Garlyside,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Crook, Loaning, Stewardshill;</div>
-<div class="verse">But disappointments did preside,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">O’er expectations still.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">By the Sheephurst, to Brockleyhall,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Turnbull’s steed I steer’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">And at each peasant’s cot did call,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That in my path appear’d:</div>
-<div class="verse">To the Two Raws, and Butterknows,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I posted on with speed,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where I was told some of my ewes</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Cross’d Coquet at Craghead.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Resolv’d the south side first to seek,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I rang’d that rocky hill,</div>
-<div class="verse">’Till I explor’d the ’Squires Peak;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Herd’s House, and Little Mill,</div>
-<div class="verse">By Wagtailhall, and Sandyheughs,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Rothbury then did ride;</div>
-<div class="verse">To feed, refresh, and hear what news;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then search the other side.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Hence by Knocklaw, and Tumbleton,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And ev’ry scatter’d cot,</div>
-<div class="verse">Through Debdon Dale&mdash;and I anon</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By Wintercove did trot,</div>
-<div class="verse">To Rimside Inn, to bait and bouse;&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From Framlington, Blacksow,</div>
-<div class="verse">To Flambrohead, and Wholluphouse,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But could not find a ewe.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">From Frostyfolds, to Whitefield House,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Chilhope, and Cragend Scars,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where they and lambs might lurk recluse,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Unless rous’d unawares;&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">By Healy, Hope, Lynn, and Woodhead,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Healycoat I trudg’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">To Cockshot, Brinkburn, and Todstead,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where for that night I lodg’d.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>PART III.</h3>
-
-<p class="center"><i>March 6th, 1811.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Good fortune still attends the brave,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As at an early hour,</div>
-<div class="verse">Intelligence a stranger gave,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where to extend my tour:</div>
-<div class="verse">I sprung my gelding to full speed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Till I explor’d the spot,</div>
-<div class="verse">And found by dint of heels my steed</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To the rear rank had got.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">First three I found on Thropton Hill,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">There basking with their brood;</div>
-<div class="verse">The rest were seen from Snitter Mill,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Past Cartington to crowd:</div>
-<div class="verse">From Silverside, by Lorbottle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Trewhit Mains I march’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">By Netherton, through Screnwood Dell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Fawdon Fell I search’d.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To Prendick Peak, and Alnham Moor,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And all adjacent grounds;</div>
-<div class="verse">O’er Ingram Edge, I stretch’d my tour,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To seek that spacious bounds:</div>
-<div class="verse">From Revely, Greenshaws, Hartside Hill,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Linhope Spout with speed;</div>
-<div class="verse">On Shillmoor Shank found strayers still,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To Rawhope Rig recede.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To Milkhope, Memmer Kirk, and Haigh,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Cushet Law I por’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">To Carlcroft, and Kidlandlea,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Dryhope, and Usway Ford:</div>
-<div class="verse">The Maiden’s Cross, and Windy Gyle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Cheviot’s skirts curv’d round;</div>
-<div class="verse">To Fleehope&mdash;but the front-rank file</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At Langlee Ford I found.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Benighted, where these brutes did browse,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Upon the border bent;</div>
-<div class="verse">I could not retrogade my ewes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Some couchant seem’d content:</div>
-<div class="verse">At the stock-farmer of that place,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For lodgings did enquire,</div>
-<div class="verse">And there receiv’d a sweet solace,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Next morning to retire.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I ask’d both master and his men,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For one a-wanting still;</div>
-<div class="verse">Who all declar’d they did not ken.</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of stray sheep on their hill:</div>
-<div class="verse">Squads to collect I did remount,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">O’er hills and dales I cross’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">And that one short of my account,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I then gave up for lost.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_61" id="Footnote_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> It is nothing particular for ewes, at their yeaning time, to stray:
-some have been known to travel an hundred miles to their native place
-to yean. The author remembers a ewe which had with others been
-sold to the southward, and was kept on the Haughs of the Humber,
-from which she strayed, and reaching Makendon, on the borders of
-Scotland, she travelling about twenty yards within her original pasture,
-there squatted and yeaned in half an hour. The owner of the ewe
-that travelled so far to yean upon her pristine spot, went the year
-following to buy another lot of the same sort, was asked how the last
-year’s stock proved, answered, <i>extraordinary well</i>, excepting one that
-disappeared, which he supposed to be stole. The stocksman said he
-was sorry for his loss, which however, he said, he would make good
-if they bargained for the present parcel. The bargain was made, and
-the seller turned an ewe and lamb, gratis, into the drove, explained the
-fact, and the poor ewe had to retread the ground she had twice before
-travelled over.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>SONG.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By J.C.&mdash;July 5th, 1810.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A fair reformation would render this nation,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The richest isle under the sun;</div>
-<div class="verse">If terms now septennial were turn’d to triennial,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The work would be more than half done.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our grand constitution defies diminution,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">While honest men handle the helm;</div>
-<div class="verse">But subject to slav’ry, and sanction’d by knav’ry,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When ravagers rule in the realm.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A few dying embers of Morpeth, two members</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Can send in the senate to sit:</div>
-<div class="verse">Shields, Alnwick, and Hexham (the truth tends to vex ’em)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">United, not one can transmit.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">One man of old Sarum, two members declare him;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thus burghs, and constituents wane:</div>
-<div class="verse">Some staple towns none, though Manchester alone,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Near two hundred thousands contain.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Besides rotten boroughs, the source of our sorrows,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">These Cinque-Ports, and sinecures all;</div>
-<div class="verse">With pensions and places our council disgraces,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which courts of corruption some call.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With truth it is told, some freedoms are sold,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And seats traffick’d for at noon day;</div>
-<div class="verse">The barter’s so bold, that for British gold,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our code without scruples convey.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">These buyers are bound, seat sellers to mound,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And vote on the ministers’ side;</div>
-<div class="verse">If he says the crow’s white, or noon day is midnight,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They must by his behests abide.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In ev’ry debate concerning the state,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">These relics of representation,</div>
-<div class="verse">Majorities gain, and boldly maintain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their will is the voice of the nation.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE PLOUGHMAN.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The ploughman he comes home at night,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When he is wet and weary,</div>
-<div class="verse">Puts off the wet, puts on the dry,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And goes to bed my deary.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I will wash the ploughman’s clothes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I will wash them clean, O;</div>
-<div class="verse">I will wash the ploughman’s clothes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And dry them on the green, O.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The ploughman he comes home fu’ late,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When he wi’ wark is weary;</div>
-<div class="verse">Dights off his shirt that is se wet;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And supper makes him cheery.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I will wash the ploughman’s clothes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I will wash them white, O;</div>
-<div class="verse">I will wash the ploughman’s clothes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And dry them on the dyke, O.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE FLOWER OF ROTHBURY FOREST.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sweet thro’ the forest, Coquet flows,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And sweet the flowers its banks adorn;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">But sweetest far appears my <i>Rose</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She’s sure the rose without a thorn.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent2">Heard you the lilting,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">At our kye milking,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Heard you the lilting yesterday;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heard you the lilting,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">At our kye milking;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">The flower of the forest is stolen away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tho’ Meadowfield<a name="FNanchor_62" id="FNanchor_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a> may boast its sweets,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And meadow sweets its fields adorn;</div>
-<div class="verse">United, all its scents me greets,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Present my <i>Rose</i> without a thorn.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Heard you the lilting, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tho’ Flotterton<a name="FNanchor_63" id="FNanchor_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> may boast its maids,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And on Twelfth Eve all others scorn:</div>
-<div class="verse">I envy not their lusty blades,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Present my <i>Rose</i> without a thorn.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Heard you the lilting, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tho’ at kye milking, maidens sing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The forest’s flower is awa’;</div>
-<div class="verse">I dinna heed, gae tak’ their fling,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For troth she’s stown awa’ wi’ me.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Heard you the lilting, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_62" id="Footnote_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> Meadowfield, name of a place.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_63" id="Footnote_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> Maids’ Feast of Flotterton is on Twelfth Even.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE PIPER AT CAPHEATON.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At Christmas, when the wind blew cauld,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And frost and snaw’s o’er ilka dale,</div>
-<div class="verse">Robin of Norham lost his way,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And at Capheaton thus did quail:&mdash;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O whether this is lairdly ha’,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or poor man’s shield, O let me in;</div>
-<div class="verse">I’m a poor Piper lost my way,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Unsneck your door and let me in.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O pity take, and dinna scorn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Heffell<a name="FNanchor_64" id="FNanchor_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> and I will die e’er morn;</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ll screw my pipes and heartsome play,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And with a sang I’ll weel repay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“When cockle shells and silver bells,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And bawds and whores do churches build,</div>
-<div class="verse">When younkers cease to rant and drink,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And usurers tell their gold in field.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“When old Sir Humphery<a name="FNanchor_65" id="FNanchor_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a> rides to Rome,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And preaches in his best array:</div>
-<div class="verse">When indigo dies red and brown,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Your honor shall be paid your hay.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“When Nether Witton is waterless,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Capheaton without a whin;</div>
-<div class="verse">Shafto Crag all turn’d to peat and moss,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And cannot bear a foot aboon.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“When old Sir Humphery rides to Rome,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And preaches in his best array:</div>
-<div class="verse">When indigo dies red and brown,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Your honor shall be paid your hay.”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_64" id="Footnote_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> The Piper’s Horse.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_65" id="Footnote_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> The Roman Catholic Priest.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2><span class="smcap">Mary Gamal</span>, <i>the Vicar of Kirk Whelpington’s Daughter,<br />
-is gone off with Nichol Clark, his Servant Man</i>.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">It happen’d at good Christmas tide,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When we play’d at the cards;</div>
-<div class="verse">That some of us were gentlemen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And other some were lairds.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">While deals were dealt, cards were cut,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And merry we were a’,</div>
-<div class="verse">And some were waggish, well I wot,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Till in came Charlie Shaw:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And cried, Ye birds of Whelpington,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fie shame! such simple wark!</div>
-<div class="verse">For bonny Mary Gamal’s run</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Away wi’ Nicol Clark.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But had your tongue, gude maister,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And dinna speak sae cruse;</div>
-<div class="verse">She came willing thro’ your window,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He did na’ break your house.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent2">Then cry, Ye lairds of Whelpington, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>SONG.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">About the bush Willy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">About the bee hive,</div>
-<div class="verse">About the bush Willy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’ll meet thee alive.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then to my ten shillings,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Add you but a groat,</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ll go to Newcastle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And buy a new coat.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Five and five shillings,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Five and a crown;</div>
-<div class="verse">Five and five shillings,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Will buy a new gown.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Five and five shillings,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Five and a groat;</div>
-<div class="verse">Five and five shillings,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Will buy a new coat.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE WATER OF TYNE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I cannot get to my love if I should dee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The water of Tyne runs between him and me;</div>
-<div class="verse">And here I must stand with the tear in my e’e,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Both sighing and sickly, my sweetheart to see.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O where is the boatman, my bonny honey?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">O where is the boatman?&mdash;bring him to me&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">To ferry me over the Tyne to my honey,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And I will remember the boatman and thee.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O bring me a boatman&mdash;I’ll give any money,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">(And you for your trouble rewarded shall be)</div>
-<div class="verse">To ferry me over the Tyne to my honey,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or scull him across that rough river to me!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>ANDREW CARR.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">As I went to Newcastle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My journey was not far,</div>
-<div class="verse">I met with a sailor lad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whose name was Andrew Carr.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent2">And hey for Andrew, Andrew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Ho for Andrew Carr;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And hey for Andrew, Andrew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Ho for Andrew Carr.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Good fortune attend my jewel,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Now he’s sail’d o’er the bar,</div>
-<div class="verse">And send him back to me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For I love my Andrew Carr.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And hey for Andrew, Andrew, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>SONG.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I went to Black Heddon,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And there I sat down,</div>
-<div class="verse">I call’d for some liquor,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which cost half-a-crown.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The liquor being good,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I fill’d myself fu’;</div>
-<div class="verse">And could not go home</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To my Eppie so true.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent2">To my Eppie so true,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">My Eppie so true,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">My Eppie so true,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And could not go home</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">To my Eppie so true.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2><i>LINES</i><br />
-ON<br />
-JOHN THOMPSON,</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Who was hanged on Newcastle Town Moor, for Horse Stealing,
-about 20 Years ago.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">By &mdash;&mdash; Ogle, Schoolmaster, Gateshead.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">John Thompson just now,</div>
-<div class="verse">Will find it is true,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That thieving is worse than the sword;</div>
-<div class="verse">In the space of an hour,</div>
-<div class="verse">He’ll dance on the Moor,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Attach’d to a rope, or a cord.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE PITMAN.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By &mdash;&mdash; Ogle.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Of a pitman we’ll sing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who works for the king,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Jovial, good natur’d, and civil;</div>
-<div class="verse">He’ll work and he’ll sing,</div>
-<div class="verse">And profit he’ll bring,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From caverns that’s near to the devil.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To his labour below,</div>
-<div class="verse">With courage he’ll go,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Upon his pit rope and his crook;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor will he once dwell</div>
-<div class="verse">On the visions of hell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor yet <i>fash</i> his thumb with a book.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">All his wish is good ale,</div>
-<div class="verse">An’ his claes upon sale,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For a tankard he’ll put ev’ry night:</div>
-<div class="verse">Let the learned still think,</div>
-<div class="verse">That a hearty sound drink,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Is a pitman’s most crowned delight.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>A SONG</h2>
-
-<p><i>Written principally by <span class="smcap">Mr George Pickering</span>, and sung by
-a Member of the Forest Hunt, Newcastle, at the Conclusion
-of the Season, March 29th, 1786; and afterwards at the
-Theatre Royal, by Mr Marshall.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Since Winter’s keen blast must to Zephyr give place,</div>
-<div class="verse">We resign, for a season, the joys of the chase;</div>
-<div class="verse">The cry of the hounds and of hunters must cease,</div>
-<div class="verse">And puss thro’ the woodlands may ramble in peace;</div>
-<div class="verse">In peace let her ramble, regardless and free,</div>
-<div class="verse">Till the horn’s cheerful note shall awake us with glee;</div>
-<div class="verse">Till October returns, let her frolic and play,</div>
-<div class="verse">And then we’ll pursue her with “Hark, hark away.”</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">With hark, hark away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">With hark, hark away,</div>
-<div class="verse">And then we’ll pursue her with hark, hark away!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">When ting’d were the hills with the crimson of morn,</div>
-<div class="verse">We jocundly rose to the sound of the horn;</div>
-<div class="verse">Triumphant its melody swell’d o’er the plain,</div>
-<div class="verse">While the heath-cover’d mountains re-echo’d the strain:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Hark, hark! was the mandate, we flew like the wind,</div>
-<div class="verse">And care’s haggard visage was distanc’d behind:</div>
-<div class="verse">What joys can be equal to those we display,</div>
-<div class="verse">When we follow the harriers with hark, hark away!</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">With hark, hark away, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Like the soldier return’d from a far hostile shore,</div>
-<div class="verse">Recounting his toils and his victories o’er,</div>
-<div class="verse">Of the battle’s loud din, where his courage so true,</div>
-<div class="verse">Obtain’d the green laurel, entwining his brow.</div>
-<div class="verse">Of chases now past let our narrative be,</div>
-<div class="verse">Till Winter’s pale hand shall dismantle the tree;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then, then to the forest exultingly stray,</div>
-<div class="verse">And cheer the fleet harriers with hark, hark away.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">With hark, hark away, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then fill up your glasses&mdash;yet fill as you chuse,</div>
-<div class="verse">Here’s a health, brother sportsmen, which none can refuse;</div>
-<div class="verse">A health that with pleasure our club shall inspire,</div>
-<div class="verse">While hunting delights, or while hounds we admire:&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">See, see, how I fill it&mdash;’tis <span class="smcap">Colpitts</span><a name="FNanchor_66" id="FNanchor_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> I toast,</div>
-<div class="verse">Of our Hunt may he long be the pride and the boast,</div>
-<div class="verse">And oft may we meet him with joys like to-day,</div>
-<div class="verse">And long may he lead us with hark, hark away.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">With hark, hark away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">With hark, hark away,</div>
-<div class="verse">And long may he lead us with hark, hark away.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_66" id="Footnote_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> <i>George Colpitts</i>, Esq. of Killingworth, the worthy Master of the
-Forest Hunt.&mdash;He died October 30th, 1793, universally regretted.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;">
-<img src="images/footer-square.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="(decorative footer)" />
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>LONG FRAMLINGTON FAIR,<br />
-(OR TRYST)</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Established July 15th, 1803.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">All lovers of lucre may LAUD the <i>Lord Mayor</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who was the first founder of <i>Framlington Fair</i>;</div>
-<div class="verse">Where mankind now mingle, and merchants too meet,</div>
-<div class="verse">And all in full muster that magistrate greet:</div>
-<div class="verse">Here stocksmen and tradesmen both traffic and truck,</div>
-<div class="verse">And prone speculators pursue their purse-luck;</div>
-<div class="verse">Here contractors cash into cattle convert,</div>
-<div class="verse">By buying or barter in mayor Millar’s mart.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Here coaches and chariots and chaises abound,</div>
-<div class="verse">With folks of first fashion from fifty miles round;</div>
-<div class="verse">Here bucks, bloods, and buffoons, belles, buxoms, and beaux,</div>
-<div class="verse">Bedizen’d with drapery, and French furbelows:</div>
-<div class="verse">Here young men and maidens in marriage moods meet,</div>
-<div class="verse">And crowds of quaint coquets bald bachelors cheat;</div>
-<div class="verse">Here parents and prattlers are sprightly and smart,</div>
-<div class="verse">And lads league with lasses in mayor Millar’s mart.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Horn’d cattle, and horses, mules, asses, and swine,</div>
-<div class="verse">And sheep of all kinds kept ’twixt <i>Tweed</i> and the <i>Tyne</i>;</div>
-<div class="verse">A skilful collection of choice Cheviot rams,</div>
-<div class="verse">And also the best breed of bleak border lambs;</div>
-<div class="verse">Hard hogs from the <i>Highlands</i>, some long, and some short,</div>
-<div class="verse">And some sightly samples of Leicester sort;</div>
-<div class="verse">Some <i>South Downs</i>, some <i>Dishleys</i>, some <i>Dorsets</i>, and <i>Harts</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse">Some <i>Bedfords</i>, and <i>Bakewells</i>, grace mayor Millar’s marts.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This marvellous mayor did some patterns produce,</div>
-<div class="verse">May prove to the public of infinite use;&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">His beasts from the <i>Dearboughts</i><a name="FNanchor_67" id="FNanchor_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a>&mdash;cow-kyloes, and queys,</div>
-<div class="verse">Did breeders and feeders and butchers surprise;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Nay, set as a cypher the <i>Long Witton stot</i>;<a name="FNanchor_68" id="FNanchor_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">And credit confer’d on the <i>Kintire Scot</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who rear’d upon pastures of poor pithless spart,</div>
-<div class="verse">These magnified monsters in mayor Millar’s mart.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Their dimensions alive, and their density dead,</div>
-<div class="verse">He measur’d and weigh’d with the eyes of his head,</div>
-<div class="verse">From the tip of the tongue to the tip of the tail,</div>
-<div class="verse">In ells and in inches, exact as a scale,</div>
-<div class="verse">The girt of the sirloin, the centre and crop,</div>
-<div class="verse">The breadth of the brisket, the bottom and top;</div>
-<div class="verse">By practice made perfect, precise, and expert,</div>
-<div class="verse">Surpris’d all the people in mayor Millar’s mart.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">A caravan crowded, came here from the east,</div>
-<div class="verse">With <i>Bengal</i> bred bipeds, and <i>Bot’ney Bay</i> beasts;</div>
-<div class="verse">Stage-tumblers, and walkers upon the slack wire,</div>
-<div class="verse">And dancing dogs deck’d out in harlequin ’tire;</div>
-<div class="verse">Eke, eight <i>British</i> badgers brought back in a box,</div>
-<div class="verse">The big and the beautiful <i>Berwickshire</i> ox;</div>
-<div class="verse">With all tricks by slight hand of nature and art,</div>
-<div class="verse">To add to the eclat of mayor Millar’s mart.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Close by the mayor’s mansion, expos’d are in pens,</div>
-<div class="verse">A local collection of cocks and of hens;</div>
-<div class="verse">Ducks, turkies, and pigeons in sunkets are seen,</div>
-<div class="verse">And pack-sacks presented with grey geese and green:</div>
-<div class="verse">With well cul’d canaries confin’d close in cages,</div>
-<div class="verse">And song birds of all sorts and sizes and ages;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose quavering chorus both cheer and divert</div>
-<div class="verse">The cohorts convened at mayor Millar’s mart.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Here potters, with panniers of Stafford and Delph,</div>
-<div class="verse">And chests of choice china to shine on the shelf;</div>
-<div class="verse">Here’s hampers of hardware&mdash;plate&mdash;polish’d and plain,</div>
-<div class="verse">With all tin utensils of varnish and stain:</div>
-<div class="verse">Here’s statues of stucco, Dutch trinkets, and toys,</div>
-<div class="verse">And bawlers of ballads, of nonsense, and noise!</div>
-<div class="verse">Here cadgers of commerce, commodities cart,</div>
-<div class="verse">With hucksters and hawkers, to mayor Millar’s mart.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">From <i>Morpeth</i>, <i>Newcastle</i>, and <i>London</i> likewise,</div>
-<div class="verse">The puffers of paste here expose <i>penny pies</i>!</div>
-<div class="verse">With cheese cakes and custards and other confects,</div>
-<div class="verse">Of rare aromatics, and summer selects:</div>
-<div class="verse">Scarce kickshaws more costly can be chew’d with chaps,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet somewhat less sav’ry than <i>Silas Swain’s</i><a name="FNanchor_69" id="FNanchor_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> snaps,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which powerful perfumes to the palates impart,</div>
-<div class="verse">Of alamode essence in mayor Millar’s mart.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Hotels for highflyers, and Inns little worse,</div>
-<div class="verse">With good entertainment for man and for horse;</div>
-<div class="verse">Here’s baskets of butter, beef, bacon, bread, beer,</div>
-<div class="verse">With fleshers, fishmongers, and other choice cheer,</div>
-<div class="verse">To buoy up the belly, and burnish the back;</div>
-<div class="verse">Who have ready rhino need nothing to lack;&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Fairs formerly fam’d now begin to loss heart,</div>
-<div class="verse">Since all Adam’s offspring prefer Millar’s mart.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center">Coquetarious.</p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_67" id="Footnote_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> The name of a neighbouring farm.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_68" id="Footnote_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> The fattest kyloe stot ever killed in the county.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_69" id="Footnote_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> A Confectioner in that town, a man of considerable humour and fun.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>GO ALL TO COQUET AND WOO.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Northumberland lads are handsome squads,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And female affiance must share;</div>
-<div class="verse">If you wish to wed, betroth to bed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">One cull’d with caution and care.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I here make free&mdash;give ear to me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The county I’ve scan’d around;</div>
-<div class="verse">So from the mass select a lass,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where virtue and beauties abound.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lasses of TWEED are deft indeed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their garlands give such grace:</div>
-<div class="verse">The lasses of TILL are sprightly still,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In figure, in fashion, and face.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lasses of BREMISH look rather squeamish,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Embellish’d with elegant ease;</div>
-<div class="verse">The lasses of ALE, for plumage prevail,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their pomp and appendages please.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lasses of ALWIN obey fashion’s call, when</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A princess prescribes a new dress;</div>
-<div class="verse">The lasses of REED, each hair-braids her head,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And apes alamode to excess.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lasses of WENSBECK, like dignify’d dames deck,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And their address quite debonair;</div>
-<div class="verse">The lasses of FOUNT, though pronounc’d paramount,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Can scarce with these comits compare.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lasses of PONT, to decorate don’t</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Soar yet in the sphere of extremes;</div>
-<div class="verse">The lasses of ERRING, on fashions conferring,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The decent most dext’rous deem.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The lasses of TYNE, who peerlessly shine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are mirrors of modesty too:</div>
-<div class="verse">The lasses of COQUET put all in their pocket,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Go all to Coquet and woo!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So take my advice, tour there in a trice,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">These provident paragons view;</div>
-<div class="verse">So splendid and pretty, so worthy, and witty,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">You’ll never have reason to rue.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE FRACTIOUS FARMER.<br />
-<i>A SONG.</i>&mdash;1792.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A farmer near Felton, fam’d for vulgar fractions,</div>
-<div class="verse">Both testy and stubborn in all his transactions;</div>
-<div class="verse">With fraud and with falsehoods to litigate labours,</div>
-<div class="verse">A plague to the public, and pest to his neighbours.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His <span class="smcapuc">BULL</span>, this base brigand kept bound by the nose,</div>
-<div class="verse">In a creek, on the confines of Coquet, that those</div>
-<div class="verse">Cows which came across (thus decoy’d) to his corn,</div>
-<div class="verse">The coin of their owners by craft to suborn.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He marry’d a maid with much money, as stated,</div>
-<div class="verse">Both handsome, and harmless, yet heartily hated;</div>
-<div class="verse">Hence hootings, and hissings, and banters beset her,</div>
-<div class="verse">Because he his handmaid had long lov’d far better.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">One sunday at dinner he saw of a sudden,</div>
-<div class="verse">A human head hair peeping out of the pudding:</div>
-<div class="verse">Though his minx mix’d the mass, made his spouse pluck it out,</div>
-<div class="verse">And likewise submit to a buffetting bout.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">One time when he wanted his fingers to warm,</div>
-<div class="verse">She fronted the fire, and thought of no harm;</div>
-<div class="verse">Her seat he upset, and she fell on the floor,</div>
-<div class="verse">Depriv’d of her senses for more than an hour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">As he and his harlot one time sat at tea,</div>
-<div class="verse">To taste a bit toast, his own matron made free;</div>
-<div class="verse">For which misdemeanor his concubine cog’d her,</div>
-<div class="verse">And for the offence he unfeelingly flog’d her.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">One afternoon, ent’ring the parlour, he saw,</div>
-<div class="verse">Expos’d on the carpet, prostrate, a piece straw;</div>
-<div class="verse">His spouse he suspected for the foul offence,</div>
-<div class="verse">And snatching the poker, depriv’d her of sense.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His children he taught with a dutiful grace,</div>
-<div class="verse">To piss upon <i>Mammy</i>, and spit on her face;</div>
-<div class="verse">And laugh when he lash’d her, ’till sickly and sore,</div>
-<div class="verse">And in storms and in tempests turn’d her to the door.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With hunger and hardships, by bruises and blows,</div>
-<div class="verse">His help-mate is render’d so lank and so low;</div>
-<div class="verse">She seems to surrender the lease of her life,</div>
-<div class="verse">And wind up the warfare of a wailing wife.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>SATYR UPON WOMEN.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By Mr James Robson.</i></p>
-
-<p>This song is imperfectly compiled from part of a “Satyr upon
-Women,” wrote in Preston prison, in 1715 by Mr James Robson,
-a freeholder in Thropton, near Rothbury, Northumberland, at that
-time a musician in the rebel army. He sung the Satyr aloud, at an iron barred window looking into a garden, where a lady and her maid
-were walking: after the song was finished, the former says, “That
-young man seems very severe upon our sex; but perhaps he is singing
-more from oppression than pleasure; go give him that half crown
-piece,” which the girl gave him through the grating, at a period when
-he was at the point of starving.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">All men of high and low degree,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Come listen to my song;</div>
-<div class="verse">The subject suits both you and me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With attestations strong:</div>
-<div class="verse">Therefore I hope you’ll not be nice,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Attention true to pay,</div>
-<div class="verse">And hence adhere to my advice,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lest you be led astray.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Should you to marry be inclin’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I charge you to beware;</div>
-<div class="verse">And caution you to change your mind,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thus to escape that snare;</div>
-<div class="verse">Be not decoy’d by age nor youth,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whose aims are artful all;</div>
-<div class="verse">But take my word as standard truth,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">You here may stand or fall.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If you should wed one with a dower,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Obedience you must pay;</div>
-<div class="verse">Or if you marry one who’s poor,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In rags you must array:</div>
-<div class="verse">If you a blooming beauty wed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A cuckold you must be;</div>
-<div class="verse">And if a brunet blight your bed,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">You’ll blush when belles you see.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Should you select a learned lass,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Impertinence must pall;</div>
-<div class="verse">Or cull one from a vulgar class,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She balderdash will bawl:</div>
-<div class="verse">If you adopt a daft town’s dame,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her behests will be bold:</div>
-<div class="verse">Or coax one of inferior fame,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She’ll curse, carouse, and scold.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Shun lofty looks, and language loud,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">No stripes such tongues can tame;</div>
-<div class="verse">Fly wanton wenches mirthful mood,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which counsel can’t reclaim:</div>
-<div class="verse">A wife of stature tall will dare,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To drag a giant down;</div>
-<div class="verse">And little women wicked are,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">One crop’d strong Samson’s crown.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Reflect that Adam’s innocence,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was to Eve’s blunder blind;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose crafty crime caus’d to commence,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A curse upon mankind;</div>
-<div class="verse">So you cannot too cautious be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of wormwood mix’d with gall;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then friends pray be advis’d by me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To wed with <i>none at all</i>!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>TWEED SIDE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">On travelling down Tweed side,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I heard an uncouth chit chat;</div>
-<div class="verse">An old wife thus her neighbour did chide,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">May curses confound your cat!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His plunder I’ll tell you pit pat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our hut he inhabits at ease;</div>
-<div class="verse">He broke into our buffet,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And munch’d up our ewe-milk cheese.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He lifts up our larder latch,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And he skims all the cream off the milk;</div>
-<div class="verse">The callans he’ll bite and he’ll scratch,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And the brats of their boiley will bilk.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No farley to find him so fat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Beef, bacon, and butter, he eats;</div>
-<div class="verse">And ne’er hunts for a mouse nor a rat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But sups upon savory meats.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He has lunch’d up two large lamb legs,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of our bannocks he’s not left a bit;</div>
-<div class="verse">And has scar’d the old hen off her eggs,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And she’s drown’d in the kirn-milk kit.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He mucks in our mickle meal-chest,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He spews in the cistern of salt;</div>
-<div class="verse">In our kale-pot and cogies he’s piss’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And he mutes too among the malt.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He has drove a scate fish off the bink,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which drop’d in the brimstone kan,</div>
-<div class="verse">And rais’d such a stove and stink</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As chok’d our old good man.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Was it no more damage than that,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The brute must be greatly to blame;</div>
-<div class="verse">If you take not care of your tom-cat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He may rely on a lame!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>A SONG,<br />
-<i>Pasted upon the Walls, and scattered about the Town
-of Rothbury, several Years ago.</i></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Young Solomon, tir’d of a bachelor’s life,</div>
-<div class="verse">Is resolv’d, by report, on a fat greasy wife,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Though merit might gain him a good natured girl,</div>
-<div class="verse">Would forfeit his prospect for brazen Miss E&mdash;&mdash;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If he wish to be wedded to folly and dirt,</div>
-<div class="verse">To a lie-loving hussy, and impudent flirt,</div>
-<div class="verse">Let him take what the captains of Alemouth have left,</div>
-<div class="verse">And of comfort I warrant he will be bereft.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If a creature he takes who in muslin would shine,</div>
-<div class="verse">Poor Solomon must on a red-herring dine;</div>
-<div class="verse">To buy her fine clothes, and rich tippets of scarlet,</div>
-<div class="verse">And dress the poor beggar in garbs of a harlot.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If willing with good cheerful neighbours to spend,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or a convivial hour with some gay social friend;</div>
-<div class="verse">To Bo&mdash;&mdash;m’s would go, and therein not to be check’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Let him shun the hard fate of a husband hen-peck’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If he wish not to labour with want and disgrace,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor to answer demands which will fly in his face,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor would open his purse for the debts of another,</div>
-<div class="verse">Let him think in due time of the case of Poll’s brother.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If children he’d have, with free use of their frame,</div>
-<div class="verse">Let him not take a part’ner stiff-jointed and lame;</div>
-<div class="verse">But let him look out for some wholesome clean girl,</div>
-<div class="verse">And escape from the clutches of shameful Poll E&mdash;&mdash;.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>The following ANSWER was handed about at Berwick
-upon Tweed and the neighbouring Villages.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ah! pen, ink, and paper, proves pleasing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To pirates who plunder the fame</div>
-<div class="verse">Of females, by lewdness and teasing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Too naughty and nauseous to name.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A rector, more rude than the rabble,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Compos’d an incendiary song,</div>
-<div class="verse">More base than a Billingsgate bauble,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And like his stale strumpet stinks strong.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">That seat on a summit for cent’ries</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Assigned to sages and saints,</div>
-<div class="verse">Was kept by those scripture comment’ries</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From tete-a-tete, tarnish, and taints.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But time tells a tragical story,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of truths well attested by some;</div>
-<div class="verse">The term has turn’d out transitory,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That bulwarks a brothel become.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The mansion (I need not to mention)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Affords an affectionate feast,</div>
-<div class="verse">To vassals of vicious invention,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A pander, two punks, and a priest.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Their pastimes and sports are pollution,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Each minx is unmarry’d&mdash;each man</div>
-<div class="verse">Prefers to his spouse prostitution</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Upon a ’postolical plan.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">By priestcraft the pulpit’s perverted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The parson’s deprav’d and impure;</div>
-<div class="verse">With projects profane preconcerted,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A leacherous lout to allure.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Each cuddles his coney or rabbit,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And pleasantly purr with puss-cats;</div>
-<div class="verse">Hence with husky harlots cohabit,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And handle a herdling’s old hats.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When pregnant, the spinster’s exported</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Till she spawn her spurious sprouts,</div>
-<div class="verse">Hence home with due caution escorted</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To free the fecundine from flouts.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At Alnwick, this pious imposter</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Betty have boarded their brats;</div>
-<div class="verse">Where they keep a female to foster</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their moppets, and Matthew’s pit-rats.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The quorum confer’d a commission</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Upon this canonical quack,</div>
-<div class="verse">Expecting the learned logician</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Contentions would quell garb’d in black.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This pastor unprick’d with compunction,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His church with unchastity chimes,</div>
-<div class="verse">And forfeits the fame of his function,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By columns of scandal and crimes.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Here follows a fatal relation,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By curses and conduct unkind,</div>
-<div class="verse">(A fact prov’d by clear demonstration)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The brute broke the heart of his hind.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">This curate (kept quite unconnected</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With chums who in crowds coalesce)</div>
-<div class="verse">Was by the whole parish respected,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For piety, prudence, and peace.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I’m sanction’d to say in the sequel,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His worship, by keeping a wench,</div>
-<div class="verse">Incurs the contempt of each equal,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His betters, the bar, and the bench.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Traduce not the strains of a student,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Untaught in a technical style;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor pronounce a pupil imprudent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For truths told on varlets so vile!!!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>SONG.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There was five wives at Acomb,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And five wives at Wa’,</div>
-<div class="verse">And five wives at Fallowfield,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That’s fifteen o’ them a’.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent2">They’ve druken ale and brandy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">’Till they are all fu’;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And I cannot get home to</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">My Eppie I trow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">My Eppie I trow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">My Eppie I trow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And I cannot get home to</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">My Eppie I trow.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Tyne water’s se deep, that</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I cannot wade through;</div>
-<div class="verse">And I’ve no horse to ride to</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My Eppie I trow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">My Eppie I trow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">My Eppie I trow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And I’ve no horse to ride to</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">My Eppie I trow.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In Tyne I hev not a boat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor yet cou’d I row,</div>
-<div class="verse">Across the deep water to</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My Eppie I trow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">My Eppie I trow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">My Eppie I trow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And I’ve no horse to ride to</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">My Eppie I trow.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>LITTLE BILLY.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now little Billy is gone to the kirk,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And so merrily he doth sing:</div>
-<div class="verse">I catch’d the parson in bed with my mother,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But I woud’nt tell it for any thing.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thou art a liar, says Mess John,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I never did thy mother no harm:</div>
-<div class="verse">I never was in her house in my life,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But once or twice for a penorth of barm.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thou art a liar, said little Billy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As sure as thou’rt on thy knees at prayer:</div>
-<div class="verse">Did’nt I catch thee in bed with my mother,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And did’nt I tumble thee down the stairs.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thou art a liar, says Mess John,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thou shalt be whipp’d with a rod of birk;</div>
-<div class="verse">And shalt be set in the stocks to morn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For telling such lies o’ the kirk.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>SAIR FAIL’D HINNY.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I was young and lusty,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I was fair and clear;</div>
-<div class="verse">I was young and lusty,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Many a long year.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Sair fail’d hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sair fail’d now;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Sair fail’d hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sin’ I kend thou.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When I was young and lusty,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I could loup a dyke;</div>
-<div class="verse">But now at five and sixty,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Cannot do the like.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
-<div class="verse indent3">Sair fail’d hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sair fail’d now,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Sair fail’d hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sin’ I kend thou.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then said the awd man</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To the oak tree;</div>
-<div class="verse">Sair fail’d is ’e,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sin’ I kend thee.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Sair fail’d hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sair fail’d now;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Sair fail’d hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Sin’ I kend thou.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE HARE SKIN.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY GEORGE KNIGHT, SHOEMAKER.</p>
-
-<p class="center">Tune.&mdash;<i>Have you heard of a frolicsome ditty.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come, gentlemen, attend to my ditty,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">All you that delight in a gun;</div>
-<div class="verse">And, if you’ll be silent a minute,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’ll tell you a rare piece of fun.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">It was on the tenth of November,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or else upon Martinmas-day,</div>
-<div class="verse">A gentleman,<a name="FNanchor_70" id="FNanchor_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> who lov’d pastime,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Got a hare-skin well stuff’d with hay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then into the field he convey’d her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And set her against a hedge-side;</div>
-<div class="verse">Our gunners were rambling the fields thro’,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So that pussy was quickly espy’d.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Mr Tindal, the first that espy’d her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Said that he lov’d a roast hare,</div>
-<div class="verse">And that he would have her <i>tit</i> supper,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For he for the law did not care.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The better his purpose to answer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He charged his gun well with slugs,</div>
-<div class="verse">And firing right manfully at her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He <i>hat</i> her betwixt the two lugs.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But when that he went for to seize her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He found himself cursedly bit;</div>
-<div class="verse">And soon flung her down in a passion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And look’d as if he’d been b&mdash;&mdash;t.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The next was Will Dunn, our painter,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who wanted a novelty bit;</div>
-<div class="verse">And, taking good aim, let fly at her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And kill’d her stone-dead on her seat.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When firing, he swore he had maul’d her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He ne’er miss’d a hare in his life;</div>
-<div class="verse">And then in great trouble was he,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To get her safe home to his wife.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The next was John Walker, a tailor,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He thinking poor puss for to nap,</div>
-<div class="verse">Indeed, he endeavour’d to kill her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But his gun very often did snap.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But then making all things in order,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He at her let furiously drive;</div>
-<div class="verse">Our serjeant was to have her <i>tit</i> supper,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To make them all merry belyve.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But I think he was damnable saucy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She ne’er was intended for he;</div>
-<div class="verse">He must get something else to his cabbage,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For it and hare flesh ’ll ne’er agree.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The next was Joe Dixon, the barber,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">One morning he rose in great haste,</div>
-<div class="verse">And swore he would have hare <i>tit</i> his supper,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And give all his neighbours a taste.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When firing, he swore he had kill’d her;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">O then in great trouble was he,</div>
-<div class="verse">How that he might safely convey her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For fear any body should see.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The next was John Blythman, esquire;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Indeed he was much to blame,</div>
-<div class="verse">To kill a hare with a gun is right cruel,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Tho’ gentlefolks may think it game.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then Grundy came cursing and swearing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which is the chief end of his talk,</div>
-<div class="verse">He shot her, and swore by his maker,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He’d kill’d her as dead as a mawk.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But when that he went for to seize her,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And found it a skin stuff’d with hay,</div>
-<div class="verse">He flung her down in a passion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And cursed, and so went away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now I’d have you all take care for the future,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And mind very well what I say;</div>
-<div class="verse">Before that you fire, see the hare run,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lest it prove a hare skin stuff’d with hay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But I think they were all finely tricked,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Beside wasting powder and shot:</div>
-<div class="verse">Let us have a good drink at the fancy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So, landlady, fill us the pot.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Here’s the gentleman’s health that contriv’d it,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For he is a right honest soul;</div>
-<div class="verse">We’ll laugh and we’ll merrily sing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When we’re over a full flowing bowl.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_70" id="Footnote_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> Mr Peter Confett.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>LIMBO.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">By the same Author.</p>
-
-<p class="center">Tune.&mdash;<i>On a time I was great, now little I’m grown.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I’ll tell you a story, if you please to attend,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When my heart was afflicted with sorrow,</div>
-<div class="verse">The song it is new, but it’s absolute true;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It’s for nothing that I did buy or borrow:</div>
-<div class="verse">But I was sent for to Preston’s one day the last week,</div>
-<div class="verse">There I little expected with what I did meet,</div>
-<div class="verse">But the country’s all rogues, and the world is a cheat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And there they confin’d me in Limbo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Like an innocent lamb to the slaughter I went,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Not knowing what was their intention,</div>
-<div class="verse">But when I came there, O how I did stare,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When I found out their damned invention.</div>
-<div class="verse">There was Preston the bailiff, Joe Craggs was his bum,</div>
-<div class="verse">And there they did seize me, as sure as a gun,</div>
-<div class="verse">Upstairs then they haul’d me into the back room,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And there they confin’d me in Limbo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">My belly was empty, though my stomach was full,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For to think there how I was <i>trepanned</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse">Preston pull’d out a paper and made a long scrawl,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And he forc’d me to set my hand to’t.</div>
-<div class="verse">Then I open’d his closet, I got out a pie,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then I call’d for liquor, while I was a dry,</div>
-<div class="verse">I knew somebody would pay for’t, but what cared I?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I wasn’t to starve, though in Limbo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Another poor fellow there happen’d to be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which they had confined in Limbo;</div>
-<div class="verse">Brother prisoner, says I, how shall we get free,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For want of this thing called rhino?</div>
-<div class="verse">The poor fellow sat like one was half dead,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then I gave him claret to dye his nose red;</div>
-<div class="verse">But I never knew yet how the reck’ning was paid;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I was resolv’d to live well, though in Limbo.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There was Mr Bum and I, we toss’d it about,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Until we began to grow mellow;</div>
-<div class="verse">Three bottles of claret he there did me give,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Indeed he’s a jolly good fellow:</div>
-<div class="verse">Full bumpers of claret went round it is true,</div>
-<div class="verse">Some drank for vexation till twice they did spew,</div>
-<div class="verse">I ne’er in my life saw so merry a crew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As we were when I was in Limbo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There was Ralph Jackson, the tanner, he came in by chance,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And did chatter and talk like a parrot;</div>
-<div class="verse">And likewise Will Bulmer was one of our number,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For he had a mind to drink claret.</div>
-<div class="verse">Full glasses went round till I could not see,</div>
-<div class="verse">O then they were all willing I should go free;</div>
-<div class="verse">But the devil may pay them their reckoning for me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For now I have got out of Limbo.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With many a foul step then I stagger’d home,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And it happen’d to be without falling;</div>
-<div class="verse">I got on my bed, and nothing I said,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But my wife she began with her bawling;</div>
-<div class="verse">She rung me such a peal, though she’d been not well,</div>
-<div class="verse">As if she would have rais’d all the devils in hell,</div>
-<div class="verse">You might have heard her as far as the sound of Bow Bell;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Then I wish’d that I’d stay’d there in Limbo.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>A NEW SONG,<br />
-<i>For the Year 1764</i>.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY MR WILLIAM SUTTON.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">On the banks of the Tees, at Stockton of old,</div>
-<div class="verse">A castle there was of great fame we are told,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where the Bishops of Durham were wont to retreat,</div>
-<div class="verse">And spend all their summers at that gallant seat.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down &amp;c.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">’Twas once on a time, that King John being there,</div>
-<div class="verse">The chiefs of Newcastle did thither repair;</div>
-<div class="verse">Humbly pray’d that his Highness would deign for to grant</div>
-<div class="verse">Them a charter, of which they were then in great want.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The King highly pleas’d with the Bishop’s grand treat,</div>
-<div class="verse">(Abounding in liquors, and all sorts of meat,)</div>
-<div class="verse">Their prayer he comply’d with, the charter did sign,</div>
-<div class="verse">Owing then, as ’twas said, to the Bishop’s good wine.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Old Noll, in his day, out of pious concern,</div>
-<div class="verse">This castle demolish’d<a name="FNanchor_71" id="FNanchor_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a>, sold all but the barn;</div>
-<div class="verse">When Nilthorp and Hollis, with two or three more,</div>
-<div class="verse">Divided the spoils, as they’d oft done before.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The town still improving, became the delight</div>
-<div class="verse">Of strangers, and others, so charming its sight,</div>
-<div class="verse">That a bridge cross the river being lately propos’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">The cash was subscrib’d, and the bargain soon clos’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The King, Lords, and Commons approving the scheme,</div>
-<div class="verse">The bridge was begun, and now’s building between<a name="FNanchor_72" id="FNanchor_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">Two counties, when finish’d, no doubt ’twill produce</div>
-<div class="verse">Fairs, markets for cattle, and all things for use.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Let us drink then a bumper to Stockton’s success,</div>
-<div class="verse">May its commerce increasing ne’er meet with distress;</div>
-<div class="verse">May the people’s endeavours procure them much wealth,</div>
-<div class="verse">And enjoy all their days the great blessing of health.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Derry down, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_71" id="Footnote_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> The castle and demesnes were sold during the government of the
-common wealth, 1647, for 6165<i>l.</i> and soon after was dismantled, and
-the materials disposed of.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_72" id="Footnote_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> The act of parliament for building a bridge, by subscription, was
-got in 1761, was immediately begun, and was finished in April, 1771,
-and cost about 8000<i>l.</i></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>STOCKTON’S COMMENDATION.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">Tune.&mdash;<i>Sir John Fenwick’s the flower amang them.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come, brave spirits, that love Canary,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And good company are keeping,</div>
-<div class="verse">From our friends let’s never vary,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Let your muse awake from sleeping:</div>
-<div class="verse">Bring forth mirth and wise Apollo;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Mark your eyes on a true relation:</div>
-<div class="verse">Virgil with his pen shall follow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In ancient Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Upon the stately river Tees,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A goodly castle there was placed,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nigh joining to the ocean seas,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whereby our country was much graced;</div>
-<div class="verse">Affording rich commodities,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With corn and lead, unto our nation;</div>
-<div class="verse">Which makes me sing with chearful voice,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of ancient Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In sixteen hundred thirty-five,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And about the month of February,</div>
-<div class="verse">Three Stockton-men they did contrive,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To see their friends, and to be merry:</div>
-<div class="verse">Part of their names I shall describe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And place them down in comely fashion;</div>
-<div class="verse">There was William, John, and Anthony,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Gain’d ancient Stockton commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To famous Richmond first they came,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And with their friends awhile remained;</div>
-<div class="verse">Middleham there, that town of fame,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whereby much credit they obtained:</div>
-<div class="verse">Being merry on a day,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A challenge came in this same fashion,</div>
-<div class="verse">A match at football for to play;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But Stockton got the commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Three Middleham-men appointed were,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And stakes put down on either party;</div>
-<div class="verse">Stockton-men cast off all fear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For Bishopric was always hearty.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Then those three Middleham-men did yield,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And for their loss they shew’d vexation;</div>
-<div class="verse">There was but one came to the field,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Stockton got the commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With shouts and cries, in chearful voice,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The country all about them dwelling,</div>
-<div class="verse">They all did say that very day,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That Stockton-men were far excelling.</div>
-<div class="verse">When first I did it understand,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">It was told to me as true relation;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then I took my pen and ink in hand,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And writ brave Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE NEW WAY OF<br />
-STOCKTON’S COMMENDATION.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">TO THE OLD TUNE.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By Benjamin Pye, L.L.D.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">ARCHDEACON OF DURHAM.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Upon the stately river Tees,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A noble castle there was placed,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nigh joining to the ocean seas,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whereby our country was much graced;</div>
-<div class="verse">Affording rich commodities,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of corn and lead unto the nation;</div>
-<div class="verse">Which makes me sing in cheerful wise,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of ancient Stockton’s commendation.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But now I’ll tell you news prodigious,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My honest friends, be sure remark it,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our ferries are transform’d to bridges,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Cleveland trips to Stockton market.</div>
-<div class="verse">Our causeways rough, and mirey roads,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Shall sink into a navigation,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Johnny Carr shall sing fine odes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In modern Stockton’s commendation.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O what a scene for joy and laughter,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To see, as light as cork or feather,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our pond’rous lead, and bulky rafter,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sail down the smooth canal together!</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilst coal and lime and cheese and butter,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Shall grace our famous navigation;</div>
-<div class="verse">And we will make a wond’rous clutter,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In modern Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our fairs I next will celebrate,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With scores of graziers, hinds and jockeys;</div>
-<div class="verse">And bumpkins yok’d with Nell and Kate,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who stare like any pig that stuck is:</div>
-<div class="verse">Fat horned beasts now line our streets,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which Aldermen were wont to pace on;</div>
-<div class="verse">And oxen low, and lambkins bleat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And all for Stockton’s commendation<a name="FNanchor_73" id="FNanchor_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a>.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our races too deserve a tune,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The northern sportsmen all prefer ’em,</div>
-<div class="verse">For <i>Dainty Davy</i> here did run</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Much better then at York or Durham.</div>
-<div class="verse">O ’twould take up a swingeing volume,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To sing at large our reputation;</div>
-<div class="verse">Our bridge, our shambles, cross and column,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">All speak fair Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Fill then your jovial bumpers round,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Join chorus all in Stockton’s glory;</div>
-<div class="verse">Let us but love our native town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A fig for patriot, whig, or tory;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whate’er they say, whate’er they do,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their aim is but to fleece the nation;</div>
-<div class="verse">Let us continue firm and true</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To honest Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_73" id="Footnote_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> During the scarcity of change in 1811-12, the people of Stockton
-issued out silver tokens of sixpence and twelve-pence value, the only
-tokens issued in the county.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>HARK TO WINCHESTER:<br />
-OR, THE<br />
-<i>Yorkshire Volunteers’ Farewell to the good Folks of Stockton.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>,&mdash;Push about the Jorum.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ye Stockton lads and lasses too,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Come listen to my story;</div>
-<div class="verse">A dismal tale, because ’tis true,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’ve now to lay before ye:</div>
-<div class="verse">We must away, our rout is come,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We scarce refrain from tears, O:</div>
-<div class="verse">Shrill shrieks the fife, rough roars the drum,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">March, Yorkshire Volunteers, O!</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal lal la ral.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yet ere we part, my comrades say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Come, Stockhore<a name="FNanchor_74" id="FNanchor_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a>, you’re the poet,</div>
-<div class="verse">If e’er you pen’d a grateful lay,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Tis now the time to show it.</div>
-<div class="verse">Such usage fair in this good town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We’ve met from age and youth, sirs,</div>
-<div class="verse">Accept our grateful thanks, and own</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A poet sings the truth, sirs.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ye lasses too, of all I see,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The fairest in the nation;</div>
-<div class="verse">Sweet buds of beauty’s blooming tree,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The top of the creation;</div>
-<div class="verse">Full many of our lads I ween,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Have got good wives and true, sirs;</div>
-<div class="verse">I wonder what our leaders mean,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They have not done so too, sirs.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal, &amp;c.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Perhaps&mdash;&mdash;but hark! the thund’ring drum,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From love to arms is beating;</div>
-<div class="verse">Our country calls; we come, we come,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Great George’s praise repeating:</div>
-<div class="verse">He’s great and good, long may he here</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Reign, every bliss possessing;</div>
-<div class="verse">And long may each true volunteer</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Behold him Britain’s blessing.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our valiant Earl shall lead us on</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The nearest way to glory,</div>
-<div class="verse">Bright honour hails her darling son,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And fame records his story.</div>
-<div class="verse">Dundas commands upon our lists</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The second; though on earth, sirs,</div>
-<div class="verse">No one he’s second to exists,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For courage, sense, and worth, sirs.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No venal muse before your view</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Next sets a vet’ran bold, sirs,</div>
-<div class="verse">The praise to merit justly due,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From Paul she cannot hold, sirs,</div>
-<div class="verse">His valour oft has bore the test,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In war he’s brisk and handy;</div>
-<div class="verse">His private virtues stand confest,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In short, he’s quite the dandy.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Brave Mackarel heads his grenadiers,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They’re just the lads to do it,</div>
-<div class="verse">And should the Dons, or lank Monsieurs</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Come here, he’ll make them rue it:</div>
-<div class="verse">He’ll roar his thunders, make them flee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With a tow, row, row, row, ra ra;</div>
-<div class="verse">And do them o’er by land,&mdash;&mdash;at sea,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As Rodney did Langara.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal, &amp;c.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Young Thompson, with his lads so light</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of foot, with hearts of steel, O,</div>
-<div class="verse">His country’s cause will nobly fight,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And make her foes to feel, O:</div>
-<div class="verse">For should the frog-fed sons of Gaul</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Come capering, <i>a la Francois</i>,</div>
-<div class="verse">My lads, said he, we’ll teach them all</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The <i>Light Bob</i> country-dance a.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our leaders all, so brave and bold,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Should I in verse recite a,</div>
-<div class="verse">A baggage waggon would not hold</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The songs that I could write, a:</div>
-<div class="verse">Their deeds so great, their words so mild,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">O take our worst commander,</div>
-<div class="verse">And to him Cæsar was a child,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And so was Alexander.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Such men as these we’ll follow thro’</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The world, and brave all danger;</div>
-<div class="verse">Each volunteer is firm and true,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His heart’s to fear a stranger.&mdash;&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Good Folks, farewell!</i> God bless the king,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With angels centry o’er him,</div>
-<div class="verse">Now, <i>Hark, to Winchester!</i> we’ll sing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And push about the Jorum!</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal lal la ral.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_74" id="Footnote_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> Herbert Stockhore, a private, the pretended author.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>STOCKTON’s COMMENDATION.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ye freeholders of Stockton-town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Who follow your several occupations,</div>
-<div class="verse">Once more I’ll sing, and raise my tune,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On flourishing Stockton’s commendations.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our bridge with pleasure I behold,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our shambles gain great approbation;</div>
-<div class="verse">And neighb’ring towns agree with me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In singing Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">From East and West the graziers bring</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fat flocks of each denomination;</div>
-<div class="verse">And o’er a glass they freely sing</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Great is Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Full thirty miles some butchers ride;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fat goods are their expectation;</div>
-<div class="verse">At Stockton they are well supplied;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They sing Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our shews proclaim a thriving town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And fortnight-days to admiration,</div>
-<div class="verse">To see Stockton improve so soon,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Daily to her commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our spacious streets each stranger views,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And fairly gives his approbation,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Stockton’s the place that I do choose,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So great is Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our gardens, orchards, river, plains,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">All join to raise our contemplation;</div>
-<div class="verse">While hand in hand we other join,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In singing Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our merchants cast a noble shew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Rich goods as any in the nation;</div>
-<div class="verse">Great is their trade with high and low,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Makes them sing Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">All trades shall flourish now I see,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In their several occupation;</div>
-<div class="verse">And our song shall ever be</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Stockton’s lasting commendation.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our ships well stor’d with merchandize,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Come trading here from ev’ry nation;</div>
-<div class="verse">Our neighb’ring towns with goods supply,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Makes them sing Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our wool-trade daily does increase,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The staple of the British nation:</div>
-<div class="verse">And farmers come, with cheerful pace,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To join in Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our lead in piles in plenty lie,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sent by shipping to each nation.</div>
-<div class="verse">Behold all trades on Stockton smile,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Makes me sing Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our races they are fifties three,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where Darlington, of noble station,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our Steward he approves to be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To honour Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">May Darlington be Stockton’s friend,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And Stockton give their approbation</div>
-<div class="verse">In favour of the House of Vane,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For raising Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now, freeholders, I take my leave,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Success to the British nation,</div>
-<div class="verse">These lines to you I freely give,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In praise of Stockton’s commendation.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE BARNARDCASTLE TRAGEDY.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">Tune&mdash;<i>Constant Anthony</i>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Young men and maidens all, I pray you now attend,</div>
-<div class="verse">Mark well this tragedy which you find here penn’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">At Barnardcastle Bridge-end, an honest man lives there,</div>
-<div class="verse">His calling grinding corn, for which few can compare.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He had a sister dear, in whom he took delight,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Atkinson, his man, woo’d her both day and night;</div>
-<div class="verse">Till thro’ process of time he chained fast her heart,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which prov’d her overthrow, by Death’s surprising dart.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">False-hearted Atkinson, with his deluding tongue,</div>
-<div class="verse">And his fair promises, he’s this poor maid undone;</div>
-<div class="verse">For when he found he’d caught her fast in Cupid’s snare,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then made he all alike, Betty’s no more his dear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Drinking was his delight, his senses sure to dose,</div>
-<div class="verse">Keeping lewd company, when he should seek repose;</div>
-<div class="verse">His money being spent, and they would tick no score,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then with a face of brass, he ask’d poor Bett for more.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At length he met with one, a serving-maid in town,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who for good ale and beer would often pawn her gown,</div>
-<div class="verse">And at all-fours she’d play, as many people know,</div>
-<div class="verse">A fairer gamester no man could ever show.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tom Skelton, ostler at the King’s Arms does dwell,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who this false Atkinson did all his secrets tell;</div>
-<div class="verse">He let him understand of a new love he’d got,</div>
-<div class="verse">And with an oath he swore, she’d keep full the pot.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then for the girl they sent, Bett Hardy was her name,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who to her mistress soon an excuse did frame;</div>
-<div class="verse">Mistress, I have a friend at the King’s Arms doth stay,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which I desire to see, before he goes away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then she goes to her friend, who she finds ready there,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who catch’d her in his arms, how does my only dear?</div>
-<div class="verse">She says, Boys drink about, and fear no reckonings large,</div>
-<div class="verse">For she had pawn’d her smock, for to defray the charge.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They did carouse it off, till they began to warm,</div>
-<div class="verse">Says Skelton, Make a match, I pray where’s the harm?</div>
-<div class="verse">Then with a loving kiss they straightway did agree,</div>
-<div class="verse">But they no money had, to give the priest a fee.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Quoth Skelton seriously, The priest’s fee is large,</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ll marry you myself, and save you all the charge;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then they plight their troth unto each other there,</div>
-<div class="verse">Went two miles from the town, and go to bed we hear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then when the morning came, by breaking of the day,</div>
-<div class="verse">He had some corn to grind, he could no longer stay;</div>
-<div class="verse">My business is in haste, which I to thee do tell;</div>
-<div class="verse">So took a gentle kiss, and bid his love farewell.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now, when he was come home, and at his business there,</div>
-<div class="verse">His master’s sister came, who was his former dear;</div>
-<div class="verse">Betty, he said, I’m wed, certainly I protest;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then she smile’d in his face, Sure you do but jest.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then within few days space, his wife unto him went,</div>
-<div class="verse">And to the sign o’ th’ Last, there she for him sent;</div>
-<div class="verse">The people of the house, finding what was in hand,</div>
-<div class="verse">Stept out immediately, and let Betty understand.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now this surprising news caus’d her fall in a trance,</div>
-<div class="verse">Like as if she was dead, no limbs she could advance;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then her dear brother came, her from the ground he took;</div>
-<div class="verse">And she spake up and said, O my poor heart is broke.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then with all speed they went, for to undo her lace,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilst at her nose and mouth her heart’s blood ran apace:</div>
-<div class="verse">Some stood half dead by her, others for help inquire,</div>
-<div class="verse">But in a moment’s time her life it did expire.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent2">False hearted lovers all, let this a warning be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">For it may well be called Betty Howson’s tragedy.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>🖙 The above shews how one John Atkinson, of Morton, near
-Appleby, courted Betty Howson, of Barnardcastle Bridge-end; and,
-after having gained her affections, forsook her for another; upon
-which, she broke her heart and died.</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><i>A SONG</i><br />
-IN PRAISE OF THE DURHAM MILITIA.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">Tune&mdash;<i>The Lillies of France.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Militia boys for my theme I now chuse,</div>
-<div class="verse">(Your aid I implore to assist me, my muse,)</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilst here I relate of the Durham youths’ fame,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who chearful appear’d when these new tidings came,</div>
-<div class="verse">That to Barnardcastle they must march away,</div>
-<div class="verse">Embody’d to be, without stop or delay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">What tho’ some cowards have betook them to flight,</div>
-<div class="verse">And for their king and country scorn for to fight,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet we Durham boys, who jovial appear,</div>
-<div class="verse">Right honest we’ll be, and we’ll banish all fear,</div>
-<div class="verse">When head of the front, how martial we see</div>
-<div class="verse">Our Colonel so brave, so gallant, and free.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Whose generous heart, by experience we know,</div>
-<div class="verse">Why need we then dread along with him to go?</div>
-<div class="verse">Then farewell, dear wives, and each kind sweetheart,</div>
-<div class="verse">Pray do not repine that from you we must part;</div>
-<div class="verse">But hark! the drums beat, and the fifes sweetly play,</div>
-<div class="verse">We’re order’d to march now to Richmond straightway.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Where, clothed in red, and in purple attire,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our exercise then shall be all our desire,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which having acquir’d, then we’ll merrily sing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Success to great George, and the Prussian king,</div>
-<div class="verse">Likewise loyal Pitt, a statesman so bold,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who scorns to be false, for interest or gold.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If then the Monsieurs should with their crafty guile,</div>
-<div class="verse">E’er dare to molest us on Britain’s fair isle,</div>
-<div class="verse">We’ll laugh at their fury, and malice so strong,</div>
-<div class="verse">To Charon below how we’ll hurl them headlong.</div>
-<div class="verse">Do they think that our muskets useless shall be,</div>
-<div class="verse">When in numbers great, them advancing we see.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If they do, they’re mista’en, we’ll boldly proceed;</div>
-<div class="verse">And conquer or die, ere ignobly we’ll yield;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then crowned with laurel, (for vent’ring our lives)</div>
-<div class="verse">Home then we’ll return to our sweethearts and wives,</div>
-<div class="verse">What joy will be greater, our fame shall abound,</div>
-<div class="verse">The bells then shall ring, and the trumpets shall sound.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Let each loyal Briton then fill up his glass,</div>
-<div class="verse">For to drive care away, so round let it pass,</div>
-<div class="verse">Drink a health to king George, who sits on his throne,</div>
-<div class="verse">(Whose power the French to their sorrow have known,)</div>
-<div class="verse">May the Heavens above preserve him from harm,</div>
-<div class="verse">And ever defend him from foreign alarm.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE LASS OF COCKERTON.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">Tune&mdash;<i>Low down in the Broom.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">’Twas on a summer’s evening,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As I a roving went,</div>
-<div class="verse">I met a maiden fresh and fair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That was a milking sent.</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose lovely look such sweetness spoke,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Divinely fair she shone;</div>
-<div class="verse">With modest face her dwelling-place,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I found was Cockerton.<a name="FNanchor_75" id="FNanchor_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">With raptures fir’d, I eager gaz’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On this blooming country maid,</div>
-<div class="verse">My roving eye, in quickest search,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Each graceful charm survey’d.</div>
-<div class="verse">The more I gaz’d, new wonder rais’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And still I thought upon</div>
-<div class="verse">Those lovely charms, that so alarms</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In the Lass of Cockerton.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Now would the Gods but deign to hear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An artless lover’s prayer;</div>
-<div class="verse">This lovely nymph ’bove all I’d ask,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And scorn each other care;</div>
-<div class="verse">True happiness I’d then possess,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her love to share alone;</div>
-<div class="verse">No mortals know what pleasures flow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With the lass of Cockerton.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_75" id="Footnote_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> A village near Darlington.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>ROOKHOPE-RYDE.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>A Durham Border Song, composed in 1569.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Rookhope<a name="FNanchor_76" id="FNanchor_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a> stands in a pleasant place,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">If the false thieves wad let it be;</div>
-<div class="verse">But away they steal our goods apace,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And ever an ill death may they die!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And so is the man of Thirlwa’ ’nd Willie-haver,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And all their companies thereabout,</div>
-<div class="verse">That is minded to do mischief hither,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And at their stealing stands not out.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But yet we will not slander them all,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For there is of them good enough;</div>
-<div class="verse">It is a sore consumed tree</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That on it bears not one fresh bough.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Lord God! is not this a pitiful case,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That men dare not drive their goods to t’ fell,</div>
-<div class="verse">But limmer thieves drives them away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That fears neither heaven nor hell.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Lord, send us peace into the realm,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That every man may live on his own!</div>
-<div class="verse">I trust to God, if it be his will,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That Weardale-men may never be overthrown.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For great troubles they’ve had in hand,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With borderers pricking hither and thither,</div>
-<div class="verse">But the greatest fray that e’er they had,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Was with the men of Thirlwa’ ’nd Willie-haver.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They gather’d together so royally,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The stoutest men and the best in gear;</div>
-<div class="verse">And he that rade not on a horse,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I wat he rade on a weil-fed mear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So in the morning before they came out,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So well I wot they broke their fast,</div>
-<div class="verse">In the [forenoon they came] unto a bye fell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where some of them did eat their last.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When they had eaten aye and done,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They say’d, some captains here needs must be:</div>
-<div class="verse">Then they choos’d forth Harry Corbyl,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And ‘Symon Fell,’ and Martin Ridley.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then o’er the moss, where as they came,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With many a brank and whew,</div>
-<div class="verse">One of them would to another say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I think this day we are men enew.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For Weardale-men are a journey ta’en,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They are so far out o’er yon fell,</div>
-<div class="verse">That some ofe them’s with the two earls<a name="FNanchor_77" id="FNanchor_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And others fast in Barnard-castell.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There we shall get gear enough,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For there is nane but women at hame;</div>
-<div class="verse">The sorrowful fend that they can make,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Is loudly cries as they were slain.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then in at Rookhope-head they came,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And there they thought tul a’ had their prey;</div>
-<div class="verse">But they were ’spy’d coming over the Dry-rig,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Soon upon Saint Nicholas’ Day.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then in at Rookhope-head they came,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They ran the forest but a mile;</div>
-<div class="verse">They gather’d together in four hours</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Six hundred sheep within a while.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And horses I trow they gat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But either ane or twa,</div>
-<div class="verse">And they gat them all but ane</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That belanged to great Rowley.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">That Rowley was the first man that did them spy,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With that he rais’d a mighty cry,</div>
-<div class="verse">The cry it came down Rookhope-burn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And spread through Weardale hasteyly.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then word came to the bailiff’s house</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At the East-gate, where he did dwell,</div>
-<div class="verse">He had walk’d out to the Smale-burns,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which stands above the Hanging-well.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His wife was wae when she hear’d tell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So well she wist her husband wanted gear,</div>
-<div class="verse">She gar’d saddle him his horse in haste,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And neither forgot sword, jack, nor spear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The bailiff got wit before his gear came,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That such news was in the land;</div>
-<div class="verse">He was sore troubled in his heart,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That on no earth that he could stand.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His brother was hurt three days before,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With limmer thieves that did him prick;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nineteen bloody wounds lay him upon;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">What ferly was’t that he lay sick?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But yet the bailiff shrinked nought,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But fast after them he did hie;</div>
-<div class="verse">And so did all his neighbours near,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That went to bear him company.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But when the bailiff was gathered,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And all his company,</div>
-<div class="verse">They were number’d to never a man,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But forty under fifty.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The thieves was number’d a hundred men,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I wat they were not of the worst,</div>
-<div class="verse">That could be choosed out of Thirlwa’ ’nd Willie-haver,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I trow they were the very first.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But all that was in Rookhope-head,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And all that was i’ Nuketon-cleugh,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where Weardale-men o’ertook the thieves,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And there they gave them fighting enough.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So sore they made them fain to flee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As many was a’ out of land,</div>
-<div class="verse">And for tul have been at home again,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They would have been in iron bands:</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And for the space of long seven years,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As sore they mighten a’ had their lives;</div>
-<div class="verse">But there was never one of them</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That ever thought to have seen their wives.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">About the time the fray began,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I trow it lasted but an hour,</div>
-<div class="verse">Till many a man lay weaponless,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And was sore wounded in that stour.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Also before that hour was done,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Four of the thieves were slain,</div>
-<div class="verse">Besides all those that wounded were,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And eleven prisoners there was ta’en.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">George Carrick and his brother Edie,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Them two, I wot, they were both slain;</div>
-<div class="verse">Harry Corbyl, and Lennie Carrick,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Bore them company in their pain.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">One of our Weardale-men was slain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Rowland Emerson his name hight;</div>
-<div class="verse">I trust to God his soul is well,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Because he fought unto the right.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But thus they said, We’ll not depart</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">While we have one:&mdash;Speed back again!</div>
-<div class="verse">And when they came amongst the dead men,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">There they found George Carrick slain.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And when they found George Carrick slain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I wot it went well near their heart;</div>
-<div class="verse">Lord let them never make a better end,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That comes to play them sicken a part.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I trust in God no more they shal,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Except it be one for a great chance;</div>
-<div class="verse">For God will punish all those</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With a great heavy pestilence.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thir limmer thieves they have good hearts,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They never think to be o’erthrown,</div>
-<div class="verse">Three banners against Weardale-men they bare,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As if the world had been all their own.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thir Weardale-men they have good hearts,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They are as stif as any tree,</div>
-<div class="verse">For, if they’d every one been slain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Never a foot back man would flee.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And such a storm amongst them fell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As I think you never heard the like;</div>
-<div class="verse">For he that bears his head so high,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He oft-times falls into the dyke.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And now I do entreat you all,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As many as are present here,</div>
-<div class="verse">To pray for singer of this song,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For he sings to make blithe your cheer.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_76" id="Footnote_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> The name of a valley in the north part of the parish of Stanhope,
-in Weardale.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_77" id="Footnote_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> Thomas Percy, earl of Northumberland; and Charles Nevil, earl
-of Westmorland.&mdash;November, 1569.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE SEDGFIELD FROLIC.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come all the gallant brave wenches,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That love strong liquor so well,</div>
-<div class="verse">And use to fuddle your noses,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Come, listen to what I shall tell:</div>
-<div class="verse">Your praises abroad I will thunder,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Tis pity you should go free,</div>
-<div class="verse">And the wanton lasses of Sedgfield</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are roaring company.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come, landlady, fill us a bumper,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And take no thought for the shot,</div>
-<div class="verse">It’s a sin, as I hope to be saved,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To part with an empty pot;</div>
-<div class="verse">Let the glass go merrily round,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our business is jolly to be,</div>
-<div class="verse">And the wanton lasses of Sedgfield</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are roaring company.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Who are they that dare to oppose us,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Since altogether we’re met?</div>
-<div class="verse">We’ll tipple and fuddle our noses,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our frolic the more to complete:</div>
-<div class="verse">For our frolic it is begun,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And we will end it merrily;</div>
-<div class="verse">And the ranting lasses of Sedgfield</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are roaring company.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s Middleton as brisk as a bottle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She merrily leads the van,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Crispe, the butcher’s daughter,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She’ll follow as fast as she can.</div>
-<div class="verse">There’s the sempstress and her sister,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The rear drive merrily;</div>
-<div class="verse">And the ranting lasses of Sedgfield</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are roaring company.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Each one shall here take her quantum,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thus says brave Middleton;</div>
-<div class="verse">We’ll drink a health to Peg Trantum,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And merrily we’ll go on;</div>
-<div class="verse">Let the shot be ever so great,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I’ll speak to my landlady;</div>
-<div class="verse">And the ranting lasses of Sedgfield</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are roaring company.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s a brave sinking tailor,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That hath a brisk handsome wife,</div>
-<div class="verse">And she will convey him the flaggon,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To avoid all future strife:</div>
-<div class="verse">And the baker at the next door,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She will be the landlady;</div>
-<div class="verse">And the ranting lasses of Sedgfield</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are roaring company.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s Branson, an honest fellow,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He hath sugar enough in store,</div>
-<div class="verse">If cloves and mace be wanting,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We will boldly run on the score;</div>
-<div class="verse">For our wanton frolic is begun,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And we’ll end it most merrily;</div>
-<div class="verse">And the wanton lasses of Sedgfield</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are roaring company.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Two wives I had almost forgotten,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whom I must touch in the quick,</div>
-<div class="verse">Being merry at Mr Branson’s,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They danc’d round the candlestick;</div>
-<div class="verse">And the tune was “<i>Juice of the Barley</i>,”</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which made them dance merrily,</div>
-<div class="verse">And long did they hold a parley,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And made jolly company.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In the midst of this great pother,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The backish wife came in,</div>
-<div class="verse">She was forc’d to be led by another,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thro’ thick and likewise thin.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">And thus they did end their frolick,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Good fellow, I’ll tell to thee,</div>
-<div class="verse">That the ranting lasses of Sedgfield</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are roaring company.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>BOBBY SHAFTOE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Bobby Shaftoe’s gone to sea,</div>
-<div class="verse">With silver buckles at his knee;</div>
-<div class="verse">He’ll come home and marry me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Bonny Bobby Shaftoe.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Bobby Shaftoe’s bright and fair,</div>
-<div class="verse">Combing down his yellow hair,</div>
-<div class="verse">He’s ma’ ain for ever mair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Bonny Bobby Shaftoe.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Bobby Shaftoe’s getten a bairn,</div>
-<div class="verse">For to dandle in his arm;</div>
-<div class="verse">In his arm, and on his knee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Bobby Shaftoe loves me.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Bobby Shaftoe’s gone to sea, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE PLEASURES OF SUNDERLAND.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In the fine town of Sunderland which stands on a hill,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which stands on a hill most noble to see,</div>
-<div class="verse">There’s fishing and fowling all in the same town:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s dancing and singing also in the same town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And many hot scolds there are in the week;</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis pleasant indeed the market to see,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And the young maids that are mild and meek.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The damsels of Sunderland would, if they could,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Welcome brave sailors, when they come from sea,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Build a fine tower of silver and gold:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The young men of Sunderland are pretty blades,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And when they come in with these handsome maids,</div>
-<div class="verse">They kiss and embrace, and compliment free:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In Silver-street there lives one Isabel Rod,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She keeps the best ale the town can afford,</div>
-<div class="verse">For gentlemen to drink till they cannot see:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Sunderland’s a fine place, it shines where it stands,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And the more I look on it the more my heart warms;</div>
-<div class="verse">And if I was there I would make myself free:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE FROLICSOME OLD WOMEN OF SUNDERLAND:<br />
-<i>Or, The Disappointed Young Maids.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>&mdash;They’ll marry tho’ threescore and ten.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">You Sunderland lasses draw near,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sure you are forsaken by men;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">But the old women, they</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Forget for to play,</div>
-<div class="verse">But will get married at three score and ten.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">You Sunderland lasses are slow,</div>
-<div class="verse">And yet there’s good choice of young men;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">The old women, they</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Do shew you fair play,</div>
-<div class="verse">They get married at threescore and ten.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A house that’s within full sea mark,</div>
-<div class="verse">Is very well accustomed by men;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">But better had they</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">To live honest, I say,</div>
-<div class="verse">Or get married at threescore and ten.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There are sailors that are clever young blades,</div>
-<div class="verse">And keel-bullies like unto them;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">You maids that are fair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Get married this year,</div>
-<div class="verse">Lest you tarry till threescore and ten.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The old women carry the day,</div>
-<div class="verse">They beat both the maids and the men;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">To give Sunderland the sway,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">For ever and ay,</div>
-<div class="verse">They’ll marry tho’ threescore and ten.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>SUNDERLAND BRIDGE.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By</i> M.W. <i>of North Shields</i>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Ye sons of Sunderland, with shouts that rival ocean’s roar,</div>
-<div class="verse">Hail Burdon in his iron boots, who strides from shore to shore!</div>
-<div class="verse">O may ye firm support each leg, or much, O much I fear,</div>
-<div class="verse">Poor Rowland may o’erstretch himself in striding ’cross the Wear!</div>
-<div class="verse">A patent quickly issue out, lest some more bold than he,</div>
-<div class="verse">Should put on larger iron boots, and stride across the sea!</div>
-<div class="verse">Then let us pray for speedy peace, lest Frenchmen should come over,</div>
-<div class="verse">And, fol’wing Burdon’s iron plan, from Calais stride to Dover.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>ELSIE MARLEY,<br />
-<i>An Alewife at Picktree, near Chester-le-Street.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center">To its own Tune.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Elsie Marley is grown so fine,</div>
-<div class="verse">She won’t get up to serve her swine,</div>
-<div class="verse">But lies in bed till eight or nine,</div>
-<div class="verse">And surely she does take her time.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent2">And do you ken Elsie Marley, honey?</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">The wife that sells the barley, honey;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">She’s lost her pocket and all her money,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Aback o’ the bush i’ th’ garden, honey.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Elsie Marley is so neat,</div>
-<div class="verse">It is hard for one to walk the street,</div>
-<div class="verse">But every lad and lass they meet,</div>
-<div class="verse">Cries, do you ken Elsie Marley, honey?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Elsie Marley wore a straw hat,</div>
-<div class="verse">Now she’s got a velvet cap,</div>
-<div class="verse">She may thank Lambton men for that,</div>
-<div class="verse">Do you ken Elsie Marley, honey.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Elsie keeps wine, gin, and ale,</div>
-<div class="verse">In her house below the dale.</div>
-<div class="verse">Where every tradesman up and down,</div>
-<div class="verse">Does call and spend his half-a-crown.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The farmers, as they come that way,</div>
-<div class="verse">They drink with Elsie every day,</div>
-<div class="verse">And call the fiddler for to play</div>
-<div class="verse">The tune of “<i>Elsie Marley</i>,” honey.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The pitmen and the keelmen trim,</div>
-<div class="verse">They drink bumbo made of gin,</div>
-<div class="verse">And for to dance they do begin,</div>
-<div class="verse">The tune of “<i>Elsie Marley</i>,” honey.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The sailors they will call for flip,</div>
-<div class="verse">As soon as they come from the ship,</div>
-<div class="verse">And then begin to dance and skip,</div>
-<div class="verse">To the tune of “<i>Elsie Marley</i>,” honey.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Those gentlemen that go so fine,</div>
-<div class="verse">They’ll treat her with a bottle of wine,</div>
-<div class="verse">And freely they’ll sit down and dine</div>
-<div class="verse">Along with Elsie Marley, honey.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So to conclude these lines I’ve penn’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Hoping there’s none I do offend,</div>
-<div class="verse">And thus my merry joke doth end,</div>
-<div class="verse">Concerning Elsie Marley, honey.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And do you ken, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>CHESTER LADS FOR EVER.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thro’ Durham County, fam’d of old,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thro’ England, be it ever told,</div>
-<div class="verse">That Chester lads stood forth so bold,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And Chester lads for ever.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When Frenchmen heard of their intent,</div>
-<div class="verse">To Bonaparte in haste they sent,</div>
-<div class="verse">And said, since Chester thus is bent,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">We are ruin’d, sirs, for ever.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O dreadful news! said Bonaparte,</div>
-<div class="verse">Enough to break each Frenchman’s heart;</div>
-<div class="verse">But let us try, with all our art,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Those Chester lads to sever.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then firmly spoke Monsieur Otto,</div>
-<div class="verse">The Chester lads you little know,</div>
-<div class="verse">If them you think to overthrow;</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">For they will fight for ever.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tho’ many millions you have slain,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet what you’ve done is all in vain;</div>
-<div class="verse">You’ll never beat the Chester men,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Nor cope with them&mdash;no never.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Consul call’d a council straight,</div>
-<div class="verse">And long and learned the debate;</div>
-<div class="verse">Each Frenchman tried, with all his weight,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">How France he might deliver.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The issue of this parliament</div>
-<div class="verse">Was peace&mdash;the glorious grand event,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which gave each British heart content.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And Chester lads for ever!!!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>LUMLEY LEADS TO GLORY.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come all ye lads who wish to shine</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Bright in Chester story,</div>
-<div class="verse">Haste to arms, and form the line,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where Lumley leads to glory.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent2">Charge the musket, point the lance,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Brave the worst of dangers;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Tell the blustering sons of France,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">That Chester fears no strangers.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Chester, when the lion’s rous’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And the flag is rearing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Always finds her sons dispos’d</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To drub the foe that’s daring.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Charge the musket, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Honor for the brave to share,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Is the noblest booty;</div>
-<div class="verse">Guard the coast, protect the fair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For that’s a Briton’s duty.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Charge the musket, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Beat the drums, the music sound,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Manly and united;</div>
-<div class="verse">Danger face, maintain your ground,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And see your country righted.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Charge the musket, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>CHESTER VOLUNTEERS.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">Tune&mdash;<i>There’s na Luck about the House.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And are ye sure the tale is true?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Again the news relate,</div>
-<div class="verse">That Chester is to raise a corps</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To fight for king and state.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span>
-<div class="verse indent2">Then let us fill a bumper full,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">To Scarborough’s noble thane,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Who under his protection has</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">The men of Chester ta’en.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If Chester men are firm and true,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And by each other stand,</div>
-<div class="verse">No foreign foe can venture then</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To stain our native land.</div>
-<div class="verse">But if they should assail our coast,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Compell’d by want and need,</div>
-<div class="verse">When Chester banners are display’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They’ll fly from hence with speed.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Then let us fill, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In former times our Chester youths</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their country’s foes expell’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose conquering monarch, in those days,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The crowns of Europe held:</div>
-<div class="verse">Should then the sons of France pretend</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With Chester Sons to vie,</div>
-<div class="verse">If they suppose they’re better men,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">E’en let them come and try.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Then let us fill, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The king our noble father is,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The queen our mother dear;</div>
-<div class="verse">The prince’s brothers soldiers are,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whom we shall here revere:</div>
-<div class="verse">Them we’ll defend with might and main,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Against all sorts of foes;</div>
-<div class="verse">Should they command to fight like men,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or aim their treacherous blows.</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Then let us fill, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE DURHAM VOLUNTEERS.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">Tune&mdash;<i>Anacreon in Heaven.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When Britannia her sons calls to aid her in arms,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And fell war, with its horrors, our island does threat,</div>
-<div class="verse">The true British feeling each bosom that warms,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Prompts away to the beach, the invader to meet.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">And along with the brave,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Who their country will save,</div>
-<div class="verse">And whose only retreat is a glorious grave.</div>
-<div class="verse">See each son of Dunelm, and the old winding Wear,</div>
-<div class="verse">The patriot, the loyal, the brave Volunteer.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Let the foes of old England unite to enslave</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her free bands, from whose fury so oft they have fled;</div>
-<div class="verse">We’ll prove, by their ruin who escape the wild wave,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We can fight like our sires, who at Agincourt bled;</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Their great deeds we’ll review,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">And example pursue,</div>
-<div class="verse">And prove we’ve the blood of the same race so true.</div>
-<div class="verse">Determined to save what than life is more dear,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our country, our laws, march each brave Volunteer.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Vain boasting Monsieur always lower’d his proud flag,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whenever he met our bold tars on the sea;</div>
-<div class="verse">And of conquest on shore let the Corsican brag;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Here the length of their graves their sole conquest shall be!</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Let them vapour and threat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Boast their armies so great,</div>
-<div class="verse">Old England united can never be beat:</div>
-<div class="verse">This often prov’d fact each loyal heart cheers,</div>
-<div class="verse">Of their country’s best guardians, her brave Volunteers.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The proud Don, through all time, shall his madness deplore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">When his Wealth and his Indies are conquer’d by thee;</div>
-<div class="verse">And treach’rous Mynheer mourn, a vassal, once more,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From the shackles of which, our brave sires made him free.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Then Mynheer, Don, and Gaul,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">We here challenge you all,</div>
-<div class="verse">And believe British bayonets will your spirits appal;</div>
-<div class="verse">For your pride to chastise, see a nation appears;</div>
-<div class="verse">In the van march her loyal, her brave Volunteers!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Come the day when the foe on our shore dare descend,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Like the lion defending his den, each will feel;</div>
-<div class="verse">For the world ’gainst our safety in vain will contend,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">While fair freedom and courage support their lov’d weal:</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">And along with the brave,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Who their country will save,</div>
-<div class="verse">And whose only retreat is a glorious grave,</div>
-<div class="verse">With the first in the field, ’gainst each foe will appear,</div>
-<div class="verse">The loyal and patriot sons of the Wear.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>February, 1805.</i></p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="smcap">King James I.</span> <i>in the 15th year of his Reign, came to
-Durham on Good Friday, April, 1617, where he was
-kindly received by the Mayor and Corporation of that loyal
-City, and, on his Entrance, the Body Corporate addressed
-him as follows</i>:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Durham’s old city thus salutes her king,</div>
-<div class="verse">With entertainments such as she can bring;</div>
-<div class="verse">And cannot wait upon his majesty,</div>
-<div class="verse">With shew of greatness, but humility,</div>
-<div class="verse">Makes her express herself in moderate guise:</div>
-<div class="verse">In this deserted north, far from your eyes;</div>
-<div class="verse">For your great prelate (James) of late adored,</div>
-<div class="verse">Her dignities, for which we oft implored</div>
-<div class="verse">Your highest aid, to give continuance;</div>
-<div class="verse">And so confirmed by your dread sovereignce:</div>
-<div class="verse">But what our royal James did grant herein,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our bishop James hath much oppugnant been.</div>
-<div class="verse">Small force bears down small power, where force and might</div>
-<div class="verse">Hath greater strength than equity and right.</div>
-<div class="verse">The last are only in your breast included:</div>
-<div class="verse">Subjects’ griefs known, are ne’er from you secluded;</div>
-<div class="verse">From your most gracious grant we therefore pray,</div>
-<div class="verse">That the fair sunshine of your brightest day,</div>
-<div class="verse">Would smile upon your city, whose clear beams</div>
-<div class="verse">Exhale the troubles of our former streams;</div>
-<div class="verse">Let not, O Powerful Prince, our ancient state,</div>
-<div class="verse">For one man’s will, to be depopulate!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tho’ one seeks our undoing, yet to you,</div>
-<div class="verse">All our hearts pray, and all our knees shall bow;</div>
-<div class="verse">And this dull cell of earth, in which we live,</div>
-<div class="verse">Unto your name its latest praise shall give;</div>
-<div class="verse">Confirm our grant, good king! Durham’s old city</div>
-<div class="verse">Will powerful be, if bless’d with James’s pity.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The verses being ended, the mayor was placed in rank next before
-the sword borne before the king, and bearing the mace of the city all
-the way to the Cathedral Church.</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>DURHAM OLD WOMEN.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">As aw was gannin to Durham</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Aw met wi’ three jolly brisk women,</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw ask’d what news at Durham?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They said joyful news is coming:</div>
-<div class="verse">There’s three sheep’s heads i’ the pot,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A peck o’ peasmeal in the pudding.</div>
-<div class="verse">They jump’d, laugh’d, and skipp’d at that,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For the joyful days are coming.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal la la.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>EPITAPH<br />
-<i>On <span class="smcap">John Simpson</span>, of Hamsterly, Woolcomber.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY ISAAC GARNER.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">While visiting this dark abode,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Here, reader, turn thy wand’ring eyes;</div>
-<div class="verse">Tread light, for underneath this sod,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1"><span class="smcap">Simpson</span>, the <i>Village Poet</i>, lies.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The people’s follies, and their vice,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As frequently as he found leisure,</div>
-<div class="verse">He hunted down (as cats do mice)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In strains of true poetic measure.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So neatly he his subject hit,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So well he temper’d truth with sense;</div>
-<div class="verse">The simple marvell’d at his wit,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And wise men seldom took offence.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">His genius and invention such,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From each event he’d something gather;</div>
-<div class="verse">For nought ’scap’d his satiric touch,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That fairly came within his tether.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse"><i>Nor ’scap’d he death</i>;&mdash;His race is run,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">(So fall the witty and the brave!)</div>
-<div class="verse">His wool is comb’d, his thread is spun;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And daisies flourish round his grave!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>ODE<br />
-<i>To the River Darwent.</i></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Lov’d stream, that meanders along,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where the steps of my infancy stray’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">When first I attun’d the rude song,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That nature all artless essay’d.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Though thy borders be stripp’d of each tree,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That smil’d in their vernal array;</div>
-<div class="verse">Their image still pictures to me,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thy villagers gambolling gay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Nor by fancy shall aught be unseen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">While thy fountains flow murmuring by;</div>
-<div class="verse">I have danc’d in the Dance on the green,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I have wept with the woe-begun age.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thy blessings how many and rare!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Far distant the mildue of health,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where guilt vainly decorates care,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And wickedness broods over wealth.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The dress of the body and mind,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For ages exactly the same:</div>
-<div class="verse">No travel the manners refin’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And fashion pass’d by as it came.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ah! which of thy sons canst thou boast,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Like Maddison,<a name="FNanchor_78" id="FNanchor_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a> made to explore:</div>
-<div class="verse">To give to the silver girt coast,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The worth that was foreign before!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Each language, each humour, his own,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">All Europe was proud to improve;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whom Belgium sits down to bemoan,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whom Gallia could listening love.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Say, when will thou cease to complain?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Oh Darwent, thy destiny cries;</div>
-<div class="verse">Far off, on the banks of the Seine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thy darling, thy <i>Maddison</i>&mdash;dies!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_78" id="Footnote_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> Mr Maddison was secretary to the English Ambassador at the
-French Court, about the end of the American war: his death was
-rather singular; the ambassador had been invited to a large dinner party,
-given by some of the members of the French Government; but being
-rather ill at the time, he sent his secretary as his deputy, who went
-accordingly, and came home extremely ill, and soon after died, with
-all the symptoms of being poisoned; a mark of favour which the
-French had intended to have paid to the ambassador, had not fortune
-forbid it! The circumstances of this curious affair, which made considerable
-noise at the time, were never rightly known.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE HEXHAMSHIRE LASS.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Its hey for the buff and the blue,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Hey for the cap and the feather;</div>
-<div class="verse">Hey for the bonny lassie true,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That lives in Hexhamshire.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Thro’ by the Saiby Syke,</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">And o’er the moss and the mire,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">I’ll go to see my lass,</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Who lives in Hexhamshire.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Her father lov’d her well,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her mother lov’d her better;</div>
-<div class="verse">I love the lass mysel’,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But, alas! I cannot get her.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Thro’ by, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Oh, this love, this love!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of this love I am weary!</div>
-<div class="verse">Sleep I can get none,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For thinking on my deary!</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Thro’ by, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">My heart is like to break,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My bosom is on fire;</div>
-<div class="verse">So well I love the lass</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That lives in Hexhamshire.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Thro’ by, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Her petticoat is silk,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And plaited round with siller;</div>
-<div class="verse">Her shoes are tied with tape,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She’ll wait ’til I go till her.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Thro’ by, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Were I where I would be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I would be beside her;</div>
-<div class="verse">But here a while I must be,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whatever may betide her.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Thro’ by, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Hey for the thick and the thin,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Hey for the mud and the mire;</div>
-<div class="verse">And hey for the bonny lass</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That lives in Hexhamshire.</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">Thro’ by, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><i>The Northumbrian’s Sigh for his native Country.</i></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">At home wad I be,</div>
-<div class="verse">And my supper wad I see,</div>
-<div class="verse">And marry with a lass</div>
-<div class="verse">Of my own country.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If I were at hame,</div>
-<div class="verse">I wad ne’er return agean,</div>
-<div class="verse">But marry with a lass</div>
-<div class="verse">In my own country.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s the oak and the ash,</div>
-<div class="verse">And the bonny ivy tree;</div>
-<div class="verse">How canst thou gan away, love,</div>
-<div class="verse">And leave me?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O stay, my love, stay,</div>
-<div class="verse">And do not gang away;</div>
-<div class="verse">O stay, my love, stay,</div>
-<div class="verse">Along with me.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>A YOU A, HINNY BURD.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">For an explanation of this title, see Brand’s Popular Antiquities.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Its O but I ken well,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you, hinny burd,</div>
-<div class="verse">The bonny lass of Benwell;</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you a.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">She’s lang legg’d and mother like,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you, hinny burd;</div>
-<div class="verse">See she’s raking up the dyke,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you a.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Quayside for sailors,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you, hinny burd;</div>
-<div class="verse">The Castle Garth for Tailors,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you a.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Gateshead Hills for Millers,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you, hinny burd;</div>
-<div class="verse">The North Shore for keelers,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you a.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s Sandgate for aud rags,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you, hinny burd;</div>
-<div class="verse">And Gallowgate for trolly bags,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you a.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s Denton and Kenton,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you, hinny burd;</div>
-<div class="verse">And canny Lang Benton,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you a.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s Tynemouth and Cullercoats,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you, hinny burd;</div>
-<div class="verse">And Shields for the sculler boats,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you a.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s Horton and Holywell,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you, hinny burd;</div>
-<div class="verse">And bonny Seaton Delaval,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you a.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Hartley Pans for sailors,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you, hinny burd;</div>
-<div class="verse">And Bedlington for nailors,</div>
-<div class="verse indent5">A you a.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>UP THE RAW.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Up the raw, ma bonny hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Up the raw, lass, every day;</div>
-<div class="verse">For shape and colour, ma bonny hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thou bangs thy mother, ma canny bairn.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Up the raw, ma bonny hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thou <span class="smcapuc">BANGS THEM A’</span>, lass every day;</div>
-<div class="verse">Thou’s a’ <i>clagcanded</i>, ma bonny hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thou’s double <i>japanded</i>, ma canny bairn.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For hide and hue, ma bonny hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thou bangs the crew, my canny bairn;</div>
-<div class="verse">Up the raw, ma bonny hinny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thou bangs them a’, lass, ma canny bairn.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>BROOM BUSOMS.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">Besoms, so pronounced.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If ye want a busom,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For to sweep your house;</div>
-<div class="verse">Come to me, my lasses,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ye ma ha’ your choose.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Buy broom busoms,</div>
-<div class="verse indent7">Buy them when they’re new;</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Buy broom busoms,</div>
-<div class="verse indent7">Better never grew.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If I had a horse,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I would have a cart;</div>
-<div class="verse">If I had a wife,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She would take my part.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Buy broom busoms, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Had I but a wife,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I care not who she be;</div>
-<div class="verse">If she be a woman,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That’s enough for me.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Buy broom busoms, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If she lik’d a drop,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Her and I’d agree;</div>
-<div class="verse">If she did not like it,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">There’s the more for me.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Buy broom busoms, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p>
-
-<p class="center"><i>To the foregoing Verses, <span class="smcap">Blind Willy</span> (the native Minstrel of
-Newcastle) has added the following simple Rhymes:&mdash;</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Up the Butcher Bank,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And down Byker Chare;</div>
-<div class="verse">There you’ll see the lasses,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Selling brown ware.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Buy broom busoms, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Along the Quayside,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Stop at Russell’s Entry;</div>
-<div class="verse">There you’ll see the beer drawer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She is standing sentry.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Buy broom busoms, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If you want an oyster,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For to taste your mouth,</div>
-<div class="verse">Call at Handy Walker’s,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He’s a bonny youth.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Buy broom busoms, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Call at Mr Loggie’s,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He does sell good wine;</div>
-<div class="verse">There you’ll see the beer drawer,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">She is very fine.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Buy broom busoms, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If you want an orange,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ripe and full of juice;</div>
-<div class="verse">Gan to Hannah Black,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">There you’ll get your choose.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Buy broom busoms, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Call at Mr Turner’s,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">At the Queen’s Head;</div>
-<div class="verse">He’ll not set you away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Without a piece bread.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Buy broom busoms, &amp;c.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Down the river side,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As far as Dent’s Hole;</div>
-<div class="verse">There you’ll see the cuckolds,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Working at the coal.</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Buy broom busoms, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE WAGGONER.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Saw ye owt o’ ma’ lad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Gang down the waggon way?</div>
-<div class="verse">His pocket full of money,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And his poke full of hay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Aye but he’s a bonny lad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As ever ye did see;</div>
-<div class="verse">Tho’ he’s sair pock brocken,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And he’s blind of an e’e.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s ne’er a lad like ma’ lad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Drives to a staith on Tyne;</div>
-<div class="verse">Tho’ coal-black on work days,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On holidays he’s fine.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ma’ lad’s a bonny lad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The bonniest I see;</div>
-<div class="verse">Wiv his fine posey waistcoat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And buckles at his knee.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>BRANDLING AND RIDLEY.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Brandling for ever, and Ridley for aye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Brandling and Ridley carries the day!</div>
-<div class="verse">Brandling for ever, and Ridley for aye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">There’s plenty of coals on our waggon way.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s wood for to cut, and coals for to hew,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And the bright star of Heaton will carry us through:</div>
-<div class="verse">Ridley for ever, and Brandling for aye,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">There’s plenty of coals on our waggon way.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>MY LADDIE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">My laddie sits owre late up,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My laddie sits owre late up,</div>
-<div class="verse">My laddie sits owre late up,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With the pint pot and the cup.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">How Johnny cum hame to yur bairn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">How Johnny cum hame to yur bairn,</div>
-<div class="verse">How Johnny cum hame to yur bairn,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Wiv a rye loaf under yur airm.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">He addles three ha’pence a week,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That’s nobbit a fardin a day;</div>
-<div class="verse">He sits with a pipe in his cheek,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And he fuddles his money away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">My laddie is never the near,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My laddie is never the near:</div>
-<div class="verse">And when I cry out, “Lad, cum hame!”</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">He calls out again for mair beer.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">My laddie sits, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE SANDGATE LASSIE’s LAMENT.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>BY HENRY ROBSON.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">They’ve prest my dear Johnny,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Sae sprightly and bonny,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Alack! I shall ne’er mair d’ weel, O:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The kidnapping squad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Laid hold of my lad,</div>
-<div class="verse">As he was unmooring the keel, O.</div>
-<div class="verse indent7">O my sweet laddie,</div>
-<div class="verse indent7">My canny keel laddie,</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">Sae handsome, sae canty, and free, O;</div>
-<div class="verse indent7">Had he staid on the Tyne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent7">Ere now he’d been mine,</div>
-<div class="verse indent6">But oh! he’s far over the sea, O.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Should he fall by commotion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or sink in the ocean,</div>
-<div class="verse">(May sick tidings ne’er come to the <i>Key</i>, O)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I could ne’er mair be glad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For the loss of my lad</div>
-<div class="verse">Wad break my poor heart, and I’d <i>dee</i>, O!</div>
-<div class="verse indent7">O my sweet laddie, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">But should my dear tar</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Come safe from the war,</div>
-<div class="verse">What heart-bounding joy wad I feel, O;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To the church we wad flee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And married be,</div>
-<div class="verse">And again he shall row in his keel, O.</div>
-<div class="verse indent7">O my sweet laddie, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">O my sweet laddie,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">My canny keel laddie,</div>
-<div class="verse">Sae handsome, sae canty, and free, O:</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Tho’ far from the Tyne,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I still hope he’ll be mine,</div>
-<div class="verse">And live happy as any can be, O.</div>
-<div class="verse indent7">O my sweet laddie, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE INVITATION.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Neighbours I’m come for to tell ye, our skipper and Moll’s to be wed,</div>
-<div class="verse">And if it be true what they’re saying, egad we’ll be all rarely fed;</div>
-<div class="verse">They’ve brought home a shoulder of mutton, besides two thumping fat geese,</div>
-<div class="verse">And when at the fire they’re roasting, we’re all to have sops in the grease.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And there’ll be pies and spice dumplings, and there’ll be bacon and peas;</div>
-<div class="verse">Besides a great lump of beef boiled, and they may get crowdies who please:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">To eat such good things as these are, I’m sure ye’ve but seldom the luck;</div>
-<div class="verse">Beside, for to make us some pottage, there’ll be a sheep’s head and a pluck.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Of sausages there’ll be plenty, black puddings, sheep fat, and neats’ tripes;</div>
-<div class="verse">Besides, for to warm all your noses, great store of tobacco and pipes:</div>
-<div class="verse">A room, they say, there’s provided for us at “The Old Jacob’s Well;”</div>
-<div class="verse">The bridegroom he went there this morning, and spoke for a barrel o’ yell.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There’s sure to be those things I’ve mention’d, and many things else, and I learn,</div>
-<div class="verse">White bread and butter and sugar, there’s to please every bonny young bairn:</div>
-<div class="verse">Of each dish and glass you’ll be welcome to eat and to drink ’till you stare;</div>
-<div class="verse">I’ve told you what meat’s to be at it, I’ll tell you next who’s to be there.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Why there’ll be Peter the hangman, who flogs folks at the cart tail,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Bob, with his new sark and ruffle, made out of an old <i>keel sail</i>!</div>
-<div class="verse">And Tib on the Quay, who sells oysters, whose mother oft strove to persuade,</div>
-<div class="verse">To keep her from the lads, but she would’nt, untill she got by them betray’d.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And there’ll be Sandy the cobler, whose belly’s as round as a cag,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Doll, with her short petticoats, to display her white stockings and leg;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">And Sall, who when snug in a corner, a sixpence they say won’t refuse,</div>
-<div class="verse">She curs’d when her father was drown’d, because he had on his new shoes.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And there’ll be Sam the quack doctor, of skill and profession he’ll crack;</div>
-<div class="verse">And Jack who would fain be a soldier, but for a great hump on his back;</div>
-<div class="verse">And Tom in the streets for his living, who grinds razors, scissars, and knives;</div>
-<div class="verse">And two or three merry old women, that calls, “Mugs and dublers, wives.”</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But neighbours, I’d almost forgot, for to tell ye exactly at one,</div>
-<div class="verse">The dinner will be on the table, and music will play ’till its done:</div>
-<div class="verse">When you’ll be all heartily welcome, of this merry feast for to share,</div>
-<div class="verse">But if you won’t come at this bidding, why then you may stay where you are.</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">Blind Willy’s to play on the fiddle.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>A SONG,</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>written and sung by</i> H.F.H. <i>at the opening
-of Jarrow Colliery, September 26th, 1803</i>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Old <i>Jarrow</i>, long-fam’d for monastical lore,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where Bede, rusty manuscripts search’d o’er and o’er;</div>
-<div class="verse">Now see us assembl’d, upon her green swa’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">With faces all smiling, and spirits full glad.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal de ral la.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No long chaunt of Friars now steals thro’ her glooms,</div>
-<div class="verse">No lazy cowl’d monk now her viands consumes;</div>
-<div class="verse">But chearful the strain which our voices upraise,</div>
-<div class="verse">And active the man, who partakes of our praise.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal de ral la.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yet still in researches her sons shew their might,</div>
-<div class="verse">Still labour in darkness to bring good to light:</div>
-<div class="verse">Thro’ legends and fables the friars explor’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thro’ strata of rubbish the miners have bor’d.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal de ral la.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The labours of both with success have been crown’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">And the miner to Bede is in gratitude bound;</div>
-<div class="verse">For while ignorance reign’d from the line to the pole,</div>
-<div class="verse">In convents the nooks preserv’d sciences&mdash;<i>Coal</i>.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal de ral la.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">By science and spirit what great deeds are done,</div>
-<div class="verse">By the union of these, this rich Coal Pit is won:</div>
-<div class="verse">And safe from their labours, the lads of the mine,</div>
-<div class="verse">Now foot it away with the girls of the Tyne.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal de ral la.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">On ship-board soon plac’d, and impel’d by the gale,</div>
-<div class="verse">For Augusta’s proud towers the produce will sail;</div>
-<div class="verse">Employment it gives to th’ indust’rous and brave,</div>
-<div class="verse">And its trade’s the best nurse for the sons of the wave.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal de ral la.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Hail, commerce! thou parent of Albion’s weal,</div>
-<div class="verse">Let Frenchmen still brandish their threatening steel,</div>
-<div class="verse">To drag thee from England, her sons will not yield,</div>
-<div class="verse">They’ll carry thee on, yet prepare for the field.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal de ral la.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">These brave lads around us, their tools will lay down,</div>
-<div class="verse">And fight for their country, their king, and his crown!</div>
-<div class="verse">But the Frenchmen destroy’d, or drove back to the main,</div>
-<div class="verse">They’ll take up the Pick-axe and shovel again.</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal de ral la.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In union thus ever be commerce and arms,</div>
-<div class="verse">When a tyrant’s ambition creates it alarms;</div>
-<div class="verse">And secure in their courage, let Britons still sing,</div>
-<div class="verse">Britannia triumphant, and God save the king!</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal de ral la.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Your glasses now fill to the lord of the mine,</div>
-<div class="verse">And drink him long life in a goblet of wine:</div>
-<div class="verse">On this joyous day let no bosom be sad,</div>
-<div class="verse">But bumper it round to “the bonny pit lad.”</div>
-<div class="verse indent15">Fal lal de ral la.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>A SOUTH SHIELDS SONG<br />
-<i>ON THE SAILORS.</i></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The sailors are all at the bar,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They cannot get up to Newcastle;</div>
-<div class="verse">The sailors are all at the bar,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They cannot get up to Newcastle.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Up with smoky Shields,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And hey for bonny Newcastle;</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Up with smoky Shields,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">And hey for bonny Newcastle.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>A NORTH SHIELDS SONG.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We’ll all away to the Lowlights,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And there we’ll see the sailors come in;</div>
-<div class="verse">We’ll all away to the Lowlights,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And there we’ll see the sailors come in.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There clap your hands and give a shout,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And you’ll see the sailors go out;</div>
-<div class="verse">Clap your hands and dance and sing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And you’ll see your laddie come in.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>MONKSEATON RACES.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>July 1st, 1812.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">BY A SPECTATOR.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Six centuries since, some say, a son of South Seaton<a name="FNanchor_79" id="FNanchor_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a>,</div>
-<div class="verse">Was mulct for a monk he to mummy had beaten;</div>
-<div class="verse">The prior there pilfer’d the prow of a pig,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Delaval drub’d well the pillaging prig!</div>
-<div class="verse">In commemoration of that great event,</div>
-<div class="verse">Each anniversary in eclat is spent:</div>
-<div class="verse">Though landlords liege-legates are bound to obey,</div>
-<div class="verse">That country carousal’s kept up to this day.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">A sum by subscription was quickly collected,</div>
-<div class="verse">As none to contribute their quota objected;</div>
-<div class="verse">Half-guineas the highest, the lowest a shilling;</div>
-<div class="verse">And seamen and landmen were equally willing:</div>
-<div class="verse">Hence hand-bills were pasted up in public places,</div>
-<div class="verse">To state both the time and the term of these races;</div>
-<div class="verse">Explaining the prizes, and pastoral plays,</div>
-<div class="verse">Prolonging these pastimes the space of three days.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">The stewards instructed the cash to collect,</div>
-<div class="verse">Kept debtor and creditor scrolls quite correct;</div>
-<div class="verse">To purchase such prizes as were preconcerted,</div>
-<div class="verse">The coin was with consummate caution converted;</div>
-<div class="verse">To furnish out fun for friends, strangers, and neighbours,</div>
-<div class="verse">These gents to gymnastics gave gratis their labours;</div>
-<div class="verse">Lest fair play, by precepts, might not be promoted,</div>
-<div class="verse">From the racing calendar cases they quoted.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Quaff-cups for quadrupeds accustom’d to courses,</div>
-<div class="verse">And handsome cart-harness for husbandry horses;</div>
-<div class="verse">With saddles and bridles for hunters and hacks,</div>
-<div class="verse">And plate spurs for ponies that pay no <i>Pitt-tax</i>:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Spring whips made for mules, and good armour for asses,</div>
-<div class="verse">And harlequin habits for lads and for lasses;</div>
-<div class="verse">Gloves, hats, hose, and handkerchiefs, shirts, shifts, and shoes,</div>
-<div class="verse">To run, gape, or grin for, as candidates choose.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">With multitudes mingled the turf was attended,</div>
-<div class="verse">Like barley and beans, there the belles and beaux blended;</div>
-<div class="verse">From town and the country such numbers assembled,</div>
-<div class="verse">The race-ground a Newcastle meeting resembled;</div>
-<div class="verse">Which cohorts all creeds and conditions comprised,</div>
-<div class="verse">And dresses, distinctions, and deserts disguised;</div>
-<div class="verse">By vintners made vivid, their views became various,</div>
-<div class="verse">Amusements were many, and mirth multifarious.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">The racers (at <i>Watson’s</i>) were regularly enter’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">And money at booking was formally ventur’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">A Newmarket rider, rear’d in racing stables,</div>
-<div class="verse">Conversant in quirks, and acquainted with cabals;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose powers of profession were priz’d upon paction,</div>
-<div class="verse">And principles privately put up to auction:</div>
-<div class="verse">Some Monkseaton farmers on fraud plac’d affiance,</div>
-<div class="verse">But saw in the sequel their rotten reliance.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">By bribing that brigand, this son of deception</div>
-<div class="verse">Receiv’d ready rhino, yet made his election;</div>
-<div class="verse">This presto, his pupils to peasants prefer’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">In bilking his brethren, the eft would have err’d!</div>
-<div class="verse">To gull’d speculators, a vulcan as vile,</div>
-<div class="verse">Stak’d too with turf-students in tangible style,</div>
-<div class="verse">Till duped delinquents were doom’d through the day,</div>
-<div class="verse">Their debts of dishonour on peril to pay.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Corruption creeps into both commerce and courts,</div>
-<div class="verse">Then who can repel it from rural resorts?</div>
-<div class="verse">As all public places are pester’d with prowlers,</div>
-<div class="verse">The streets are stagnated with stigmatiz’d strollers;</div>
-<div class="verse">And some sanguine swindlers, though subtile and snug,</div>
-<div class="verse">Plunge into the pit they for others had dug;</div>
-<div class="verse">The same at Monkseaton, the mass must admit,</div>
-<div class="verse">(With self-satisfaction) “<i>The biters were bit</i>”!!!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_79" id="Footnote_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> South Seaton, so called at the time; but afterwards Monk Seaton,
-where &mdash;&mdash; Delaval, Esq. so completely castigated a covetous capuchin
-as to cause his death; for so doing, however, great part of his possessions
-were forfeited.&mdash;See the <i>History of Tynemouth</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE ALARM!!!<br />
-<i>Or, Lord Fauconberg’s March.</i></h2>
-
-<p>On the commencement of the impress service, in March,
-1793, considerable riots took place at Shields, which were represented
-at Newcastle, in a thousand terrific shapes; and a false alarm having
-been given at the Mansion House, the drums of the York Militia beat
-to arms; Lord Fauconberg marched that regiment to the house of
-Rendezvous in the Broad Chare, and then marched back again.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">God prosper long our <i>warlike</i> king,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And noblemen also,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who valiantly, with sword in hand,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Doth guard us from each foe.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">No sooner did lord Fauconberg,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">With heart undaunted, hear</div>
-<div class="verse">That news to Gotham had been brought,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Which caus’d our mayor to fear.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then up he rose, with eyes on fire,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Most dreadful to the view;</div>
-<div class="verse">To arms! to arms! aloud he cry’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And forth his faulchion drew.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To arms! to arms! full long and sore,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The rattling drums did beat;</div>
-<div class="verse">To arms! in haste! each soldier flies,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And scours thro’ ev’ry street.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The women shriek, and wring their hands,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their children weep around;</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilst some, more wise, fast bolt their doors,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And hide them under ground.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The French are at our <i>gates</i>, they cry,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And we shall all be slain;</div>
-<div class="verse">For <i>Dumourier</i> is at their head,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And that arch traitor <i>Paine</i>.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">In haste drawn up, in fair array,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Our Yorkshire guards are seen;</div>
-<div class="verse">And mounted on a jet black stud,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Lord Fauconberg, I ween,&mdash;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Who bravely gave the word to march,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And furiously did ride;</div>
-<div class="verse">And prancing first, great Brunswick like,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Twas well the streets were wide.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">From Newgate, down to the Broad Chare,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They march’d with might and main;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then gallantly they turned them round,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And so “<i>march’d up again</i>.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then fill a bumper to the brim,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And drink to Gotham’s mayor;</div>
-<div class="verse">And when again he hears such news,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">May Fauconberg be there.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE PATRIOT VOLUNTEERS:<br />
-OR,<br />
-<i>Loyally Display’d.</i></h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY CLARINDA.</p>
-
-<p>In the year 1795, a corps of volunteers were raised in Newcastle,
-consisting of one grenadier, one light infantry, and two batallion companies,
-they received their colours in the Forth, from Mrs Mayoress,
-August 25th, 1795.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">There is not in the world’s terraqueous round,</div>
-<div class="verse">A better king or constitution found,</div>
-<div class="verse">Than lov’d Britannia’s sea girt Realms can claim,</div>
-<div class="verse">As rich in Blessings, as renown’d in Fame;</div>
-<div class="verse">Her laws, and Social Liberty, design’d,</div>
-<div class="verse">To perfect happiness, and dignify mankind.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">These to preserve, through each succeeding Age,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our Patriot Volunteers with zeal engage.</div>
-<div class="verse">Behold them brilliant on the shores of Tyne,</div>
-<div class="verse">Newcastle Heroes Gateshead Heroes join!</div>
-<div class="verse">All free-born Sons, they Freedom’s Rights defend,</div>
-<div class="verse">And each to each secures a steady Friend!</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilst snarling Disaffection slinks away,</div>
-<div class="verse">These <span class="smcap">Hearts of Gold</span> true loyalty display;</div>
-<div class="verse">These <span class="smcap">Hearts of Gold</span> this Standard Truth proclaim,</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Our King and Constitution are the same!</i></div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">Advance, Brave Men! assert your Country’s Cause,</div>
-<div class="verse">Exertions only can support her Laws.</div>
-<div class="verse">For Vigilence, precarious Moments call,</div>
-<div class="verse">The danger’s obvious, and concerns us All.</div>
-<div class="verse">A cool supineness, timid hearts may try,</div>
-<div class="verse">But manly courage must the means supply.</div>
-<div class="verse">Sue we for Peace? that Peace is surest found,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where honest fortitude maintains its ground.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent1">We have at home, alas! some secret foes,</div>
-<div class="verse">Which, well as Frenchmen, valour must oppose.</div>
-<div class="verse">Though savage <span class="smcap">Terrorists</span> their Schemes pursue,</div>
-<div class="verse">And still mislead a blind ungrateful Crew;</div>
-<div class="verse">Keep ye but firm, the martial Charge to bear,</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Your brave Associates and yourselves revere?</i></div>
-<div class="verse">Ferocious Monsters must e’er long decline,</div>
-<div class="verse">And <span class="smcap">Moderation</span> draw her equal Line:</div>
-<div class="verse">So shall ye meet a Nation’s highest praise,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Love and Beauty crown your future Days;</div>
-<div class="verse">For Love and Beauty ever wait on Fame,</div>
-<div class="verse">Each Hero’s glory, and triumphal Claim.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Newcastle, Forth House, 1st July, 1795.</i></p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>CULL, <i>alias</i> SILLY BILLY,<br />
-<i>Of Newcastle upon Tyne.</i></h2>
-
-<p>This well known character, William Scott, commonly
-called Cull Billy, a name known in most parts of the
-north, is a native of Newcastle, where he resided along with
-his mother, a poor old woman, who made her living by
-retailing wooden ware; she like her son was an object of
-distress, being not above four feet high.</p>
-
-<p>Billy, poor man, oft excited compassion from his fellow
-creatures, while reciting (which he did with a great degree of
-exactness, and in such a distinct and clear manner as to
-surprise many) the Lord’s Prayer, several other prayers, passages
-from scripture, &amp;c. to a numerous audience of boys;
-but they generally repaid his endeavours for their welfare
-with a shower of dirt or stones.</p>
-
-<p>Oft have they followed him around the streets, beating and
-hooting him, as boys hunt a cat or dog; and yet no notice
-was taken of this, until one, more compassionate than the rest,
-stept forward and interceded for him, in the following lines,
-which were published in the Newcastle Chronicle of the
-28th of August, 1802, with the signature of J.S.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Whence those <i>cries</i>, my soul that harrow?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whence those <i>yells</i>, that wound my ear?</div>
-<div class="verse">’Tis the hapless child of sorrow!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">’Tis poor Billy’s plaint I hear.</div>
-<div class="verse">Now, in <i>tatter’d plight</i> I see him,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Teazing crowds around him press;</div>
-<div class="verse">Ah! will none from insult free him?</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">None his injuries redress?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Fill’d with many a fearful notion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Now he utters piercing cries;</div>
-<div class="verse">Starting now, with sudden motion,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Swiftly thro’ the streets he hies.</div>
-<div class="verse">Poor, forlorn, and hapless creature,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Victim of insanity!</div>
-<div class="verse">Sure it speaks a ruthless nature,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To oppress a wretch like thee.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When, by generous friends protected,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">All thy actions told thee mild,</div>
-<div class="verse">Tho’ by <i>reason</i> undirected,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And the prey of fancies wild.</div>
-<div class="verse">Of those friends did Heav’n deprive thee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">None, alas! supply’d their place?</div>
-<div class="verse">And to madness now to drive thee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ceaseless strives a cruel race.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Youth forlorn! tho’ crowds deride thee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Gentle minds for thee must grieve;</div>
-<div class="verse">Back to <i>reason</i>, wish to guide thee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And thy ev’ry want relieve,</div>
-<div class="verse">O from this sad state to snatch thee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Why delay the <i>good</i> and <i>kind</i>?</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Pity</i> calls them on to watch thee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And to tranquilize thy mind.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Soon after the publication of this, the overseers of the
-parish of Saint John’s, (in which parish Billy resided) had
-him conveyed to their Poor House, without the walls of
-Newcastle, where he was kept confined until the turbulence of
-his spirit was reduced.</p>
-
-<p>Several persons have felt the power of Billy’s wit, which
-on some occasions has been very severe. Once, when a
-person of the name of &mdash;&mdash; (not one of the wisest
-beings of the world) came swaggering out of a tavern, while
-Bill was haranguing the mob at the door. “Stand out of
-the way!” cries this would-be great man, shaking his cane in
-the air, “Stand out of the way! I never give way to
-fools!” “<i>But I do</i>,” cries Billy, bowing, and instantly stept
-on the pavement: Mr &mdash;&mdash; felt the severity of this remark,
-and instantly made off, leaving the spectators of the transaction
-almost convulsed with laughter.</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>CANNY NEWCASSEL.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>By</i> T.T. <i>of Newcastle.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">’Bout Lunnun aw’d heard sec wonderful spokes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That the streets were a’ cover’d wi’ guineas:</div>
-<div class="verse">The houses se fine, sec grandees the folks,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Te them hus i’ th’ north were but ninnies.</div>
-<div class="verse">But aw fand ma sel blonk’d when to Lunnun I gat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The folks they a’ luck’d wishy washy;</div>
-<div class="verse">For gould ye may howk ’till ye’re blind as a bat,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For their streets are like wors&mdash;brave and blashy!</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">’Bout Lunnun then, div’nt ye mak sic a rout,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">There’s nouse there ma winkers to dazzle,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">For a’ the fine things ye are gobbin about,</div>
-<div class="verse indent4">We can marra iv canny Newcassel.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A Cockney chep show’d me the Thames’ druvy feace,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whilk he said was the pride o’ the nation;</div>
-<div class="verse">And thought at their shippin aw’d maek a haze gaze;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But aw whop’d ma foot on his noration.</div>
-<div class="verse">Wi’ hus, mun, three hundred ships sail iv a tide,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">We think nouse on’t, aw’ll maek accydavy:</div>
-<div class="verse">Ye’re a gouck if ye din’t knaw that the lads o’ Tyne side,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Are the Jacks that maek famish wor navy.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">’Bout Lunnun, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We went big St Paul’s and Westminster to see,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And aw warnt ye aw thought they luck’d pretty:</div>
-<div class="verse">And then we’d a keek at the Monument te,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Whilk ma friend ca’d the pearl o’ the city.</div>
-<div class="verse">Wey hinny, says aw, we’ve a Shot Tower se hee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That biv it ye might scraffle to heaven;</div>
-<div class="verse">And if on Saint Nicholas ye once cus’ an e’e,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ye’d crack on’t as lang as ye’re livin.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">’Bout Lunnun, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We trudg’d to St James’s, for there the king lives,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Aw warn’d ye a good stare we teuck on’t;</div>
-<div class="verse">By my faicks its been built up by Adam’s aun neaves,</div>
-<div class="verse">For it’s aud as the hills, by the leuk on’t:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Shem bin ye, says I, ye shou’d keep the king douse,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I speak it without ony malice:</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw own that wor mayor rather wants a new house,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But then wor Infirmary’s a palace.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">’Bout Lunnun, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ah hinnies! out cum the king while we were there,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">His leuks seem’d to say, Bairns be happy;</div>
-<div class="verse">So down o’ my hunkers aw set up a blare,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For God to preserve him frae Nappy;</div>
-<div class="verse">For Geordy aw’d die, for my loyalty’s trig,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And aw own he’s a geud leuken mannie;</div>
-<div class="verse">But if wor Sir Matthew ye buss iv his wig,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">By gocks, he wad just leuk as canny.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">’Bout Lunnun, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ah hinnies! about us the lasses did loup,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thick as curns in a spice singin hinnie;</div>
-<div class="verse">Some aud, and some hardly flig’d owr the doup,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But aw kend what they were by their whinnie:</div>
-<div class="verse">A’, mannie, says aw, ye hev mony a tite girl,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But aw’m tell’d they’re oft het i’ their trappin:</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw’d cuddle much rather a lass i’ the Sworl,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Than the dolls i’ the Strand, or i’ Wappin.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">’Bout Lunnun, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Wiv a’ the stravaging aw wanted a munch,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">An’ ma thropple was ready te gizen;</div>
-<div class="verse">So we went tiv a yell house, and there teuk a lunch,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But the reck’ning, my saul! was a bizon:</div>
-<div class="verse">Wiv hus i’ th’ North, when aw’m wairsh i’ my way,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">(But te knaw wor warm hearts, ye yur sell come)</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw lift the first latch, and baith man and dame say,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">“Cruck your hough, canny man, for ye’re welcome.”</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">’Bout Lunnun, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A shillin aw thought at the Play-house aw’d ware,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">But aw jump’d there wiv heuk-finger’d people;</div>
-<div class="verse">My pockets gat rip’d, and aw heard ne mair,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nor aw could frae Saint Nicholas’s steeple.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Dang Lunnan! wor Play-house aw like just as weel,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And wor play-folks aw’s shure are as funny:</div>
-<div class="verse">A shillin’s worth sarves me to laugh till aw squeel,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ne hallion there thrimmels ma money.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">’Bout Lunnun, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The loss o’ the cotterels aw dinna regaird,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For aw’ve getten some white-heft o’ Lunnun;</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw’ve learn’d to prefer my awn canny calf yaird;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">If ye catch me mair fra’t, ye’ll be cunnun.</div>
-<div class="verse">Aw knaw that the Cockneys crake rum-gum-shus chimes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To maek gam of wor bur, and wor ’parel;</div>
-<div class="verse">But honest Blind Willy shall string this iv rhymes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And aw’ll sing’d for a Christmas Carol.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">’Bout Lunnun, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>CROAKUM REDIVIVUS.</h2>
-
-<p class="center"><i>The Crow’s account of Newcastle, on her return to that Town
-in January, 1812.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">ADDRESSED TO A BROTHER CROW.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">“Croney, its now near thirty year,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Since here I saw thy face;</div>
-<div class="verse">And since that time, my honest bird,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">What change <i>here’s</i> taken place.</div>
-<div class="verse">Gotham, in troth, is alter’d quite;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Here’s nought as ’twas before:</div>
-<div class="verse">People nor town should I have known,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Had I not heard the <span class="smcapuc">BURR</span>.”</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our steeple’s gone,<a name="FNanchor_80" id="FNanchor_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a> that lov’d abode,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where once we loudly croak’d</div>
-<div class="verse">Advice to Gotham’s aldermen;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And with the freemen jok’d.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Now Gotham, London fashions apes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They’ve every thing to tempt ye;</div>
-<div class="verse">Like the city&mdash;shops with showy fronts,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And insides poor and empty.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And then so alter’d is the town,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">As well as Gotham’s people;</div>
-<div class="verse">That not a building here’s the same,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Except Saint Nich’las steeple.</div>
-<div class="verse">Fam’d steeple! Gotham’s greatest boast,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Long may you here remain,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whilst other churches are pull’d down,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And built ’gain and again.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The streets are now so num’rous grown,<a name="FNanchor_81" id="FNanchor_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">E’en Gothamites don’t know them;</div>
-<div class="verse">So signs they’ve painted ’gainst the walls,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">In every nook to shew them.<a name="FNanchor_82" id="FNanchor_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">And such the rage, for naming streets,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">That gaps made in th’ Old Wall;</div>
-<div class="verse">They Heron Street and Forster Street,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Unwittingly do call.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Th’ old streets were next, not wide enough,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So th’ pants they took away,<a name="FNanchor_83" id="FNanchor_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">To place them in some corner dark,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Where th’ girls could wanton play.</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet for themselves, they have such fears,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their road, they ne’er can see;</div>
-<div class="verse">So they want lamps, from th’ Barras Bridge,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">E’en to Saint Peter’s Quay.<a name="FNanchor_84" id="FNanchor_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a></div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Crosses too, they’ve taken down,<a name="FNanchor_85" id="FNanchor_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Tho’ built the other day;</div>
-<div class="verse">They too, I fancy, did impede,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The great folks in their way.</div>
-<div class="verse">And next their nostrils delicate,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Can’t bear the smell of meat;</div>
-<div class="verse">And straight the Butcher’s shops and stalls,<a name="FNanchor_86" id="FNanchor_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Fly quickly from the street.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Their foolish pride there’s nought can stop,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Improvement’s <i>all the go</i>;</div>
-<div class="verse">Unseemly’s every thing that’s old,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">So all that’s old’s laid low.</div>
-<div class="verse">Each relique of their sires is gone,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Or got a modern face on:</div>
-<div class="verse">The poor old Castle,<a name="FNanchor_87" id="FNanchor_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a>&mdash;Gotham’s pride,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A modern cap they place on.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Bridge is widen’d,<a name="FNanchor_88" id="FNanchor_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a> the Quay enlarg’d,<a name="FNanchor_89" id="FNanchor_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The old Moothall laid low;<a name="FNanchor_90" id="FNanchor_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">And other Court’s,<a name="FNanchor_91" id="FNanchor_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a> like all their works,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">They’ve built here all for show.</div>
-<div class="verse">Show, show’s the word in Gotham now,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And ev’ry thing that’s new;</div>
-<div class="verse">From th’ Infirmary,<a name="FNanchor_92" id="FNanchor_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a> to th’ Children’s School,<a name="FNanchor_93" id="FNanchor_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A palace is to view.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Westgate boasts its palace now,<a name="FNanchor_94" id="FNanchor_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a></div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On the Moor another’s seen;<a name="FNanchor_95" id="FNanchor_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a></div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">And (to please the nabobs of the east)</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A Bridge has Pandon Dean:<a name="FNanchor_96" id="FNanchor_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">To see their Church, see they’ve pull’d down,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Many a good and bad house;<a name="FNanchor_97" id="FNanchor_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">There’s one thing more, howe’er, they want,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And that’s a spacious <i>Mad House</i>!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For, when these alterations end,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To tell I’ve not the pow’r;</div>
-<div class="verse">E’en now their quarreling about,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Th’ improvement of the moor<a name="FNanchor_98" id="FNanchor_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a></div>
-<div class="verse">Yet like the Roman, who for want</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Of worlds&mdash;from war refrain’d;</div>
-<div class="verse">Gotham’s changes and improvements,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Will with th’ world’s limits end.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_80" id="Footnote_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> Exchange steeple taken down, and the Exchange new fronted, 1794.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_81" id="Footnote_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> Dean Street and Mosley Street formed 1789, Blackett Street,
-Albion Street and Albion Place, Collingwood Street, 1809-10,
-<i>Forth Street, Orchard Street, Castle Street, &amp;c. &amp;c. 1811-12</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_82" id="Footnote_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> Names of the streets first painted against the walls of each end
-of the Streets, 1786.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_83" id="Footnote_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> The pants in Pilgrim Street removed, 1(Transcriber’s Note: the
-rest of the digits of the year are missing from the original printing.).</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_84" id="Footnote_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> A new act proposed for lighting the suburbs, 1811-12.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_85" id="Footnote_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> Scale de Cross and White Cross taken down, 1807.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_86" id="Footnote_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> Butcher Market removed, 1807.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_87" id="Footnote_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> New battlements placed on the Castle, 1812.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_88" id="Footnote_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> Bridge widened.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_89" id="Footnote_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> The Quay enlarged opposite to the Exchange, 1811.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_90" id="Footnote_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> The Moot Hall pulled down, 1809.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_91" id="Footnote_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> New County Courts erected, 1811-12.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_92" id="Footnote_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_92"><span class="label">[92]</span></a> Infirmary enlarged, 1806.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_93" id="Footnote_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_93"><span class="label">[93]</span></a> Jubilee School built, 1810-11.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_94" id="Footnote_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_94"><span class="label">[94]</span></a> Carpenter’s Meeting House built at the Westgate,
-1811-12.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_95" id="Footnote_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_95"><span class="label">[95]</span></a> Grand Stand built, 1800.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_96" id="Footnote_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_96"><span class="label">[96]</span></a> Bridge built over Pandon Dean, 1811-12.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_97" id="Footnote_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_97"><span class="label">[97]</span></a> Buildings in front of St Nicholas church pulled down, 1810-11.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_98" id="Footnote_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_98"><span class="label">[98]</span></a> The improvement of the Moor proposed, 1811-12.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p>Some Years ago, while the band of musicians belonging to
-the Newcastle Armed Association were practising in one
-of the apartments of the Town’s Court, some person
-stole the Sheriff’s gown, which gave rise to the following
-verses:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">’Tis said that in the good old times</div>
-<div class="verse">One <i>Orpheus</i> liv’d, a man of rhymes,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And famous on the lyre:</div>
-<div class="verse">Whene’er the poet sung, the trees</div>
-<div class="verse">Rush’d from the mountains to the seas,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Or jumpt into the fire.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">But mark what wonders fill our land,</div>
-<div class="verse">When late th’ <i>Association-band</i></div>
-<div class="verse indent2">In this illustrious town,</div>
-<div class="verse">(For more than ancient fame renown’d)</div>
-<div class="verse">Display’d their magic pow’rs of sound,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Off mov’d&mdash;<i>the Sheriff’s gown</i>!!!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>THE ANTIGALLICAN PRIVATEER.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Antigallican’s safe arriv’d,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">On board of her with speed we’ll hie;</div>
-<div class="verse">She’ll soon be fit to sail away;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">To the Antigallican haste away.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Haste away, haste away,</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">To the Antigallican haste away.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">For gold we’ll sail the ocean o’er,</div>
-<div class="verse">From Britain’s isle to the French shore;</div>
-<div class="verse">No ships from us shall run away;&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">To the Antigallican haste away.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Haste away, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The Spaniards too, those cunning knaves,</div>
-<div class="verse">We’ll take their ships and make them slaves;</div>
-<div class="verse">Till war’s declar’d we’ll never stay;</div>
-<div class="verse">To the Antigallican haste away.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Haste away, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">If we should meet with a galloon,</div>
-<div class="verse">Our own we’ll make her very soon;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then drums shall beat and music play&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">To the Antigallican haste away.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Haste away, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Our country calls us all to arms,</div>
-<div class="verse">To keep us safe from French alarms;</div>
-<div class="verse">Then let us all her voice obey,</div>
-<div class="verse">To the Antigallican haste away.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Haste away, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">When we are rich, then home we’ll steer,</div>
-<div class="verse">And enter Shields with many a cheer;</div>
-<div class="verse">To meet our friends so blythe and gay;</div>
-<div class="verse">To the Antigallican haste away.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Haste away, &amp;c.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To Charlotte’s Head then let’s repair,</div>
-<div class="verse">We’ll be receiv’d with welcome there;</div>
-<div class="verse">We’ll enter then without delay;</div>
-<div class="verse">To the Antigallican haste away.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Haste away, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>A NEW SONG,<br />
-<i>On the Opening of Jarrow Colliery, 1803.</i></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Of Temple and King, my friends, let us sing,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And of their Colliery at Jarrow;</div>
-<div class="verse">Of coals that are good as e’er swam the flood,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For home consumption or far, O.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">They tell us, my friend, there’s coal at Walls-End,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Can scarcely meet with a marrow;</div>
-<div class="verse">But let them come here, we’ll make it appear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Coals were not then wrought at Jarrow.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">There is Heaton Main, and Walker by name,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Known to most near and far, O;</div>
-<div class="verse">I this will maintain in language that’s plain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">There’s none that surpasseth Jarrow;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Above the Tyne Bridge, its often been said,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Few with these can compare, O;</div>
-<div class="verse">A good dog was Brag&mdash;but hold fast, my lad&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Nothing they knew then of Jarrow!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">To Temple and King, great wealth may they bring,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">From home consumption, or far, O;</div>
-<div class="verse">May success attend, wherever they send</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Their coals, the produce of Jarrow.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">May overmen all, with great and the small,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Ne’er have occasion to sorrow!</div>
-<div class="verse">May heart, hand, and head, procure them bread,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">For wives and children at Jarrow!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Call another bowl to enliven our soul,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Temple we’ll drink and his marrow;</div>
-<div class="verse">Three cheers we will give, cry, Long may they live!</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The prosp’rous owners of Jarrow.</div>
-<div class="verse indent3">Call another bowl, &amp;c.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>East Rainton.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">L&mdash;&mdash;</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE PEACOCK AND THE HEN.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">All the night over and over,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">And all the night over again&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">All the night over and over,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">The peacock follows the hen.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">A hen’s a hungry dish,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A goose is hollow within;</div>
-<div class="verse">There’s no deceit in a pudding;</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">A pye’s a dainty thing.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<h2>THE TYNE,<br />
-<i>A FRAGMENT</i>.</h2>
-
-<p class="center">BY J.L.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">O lovely Tyne, thy beauty’s seen,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Meand’ring sweet thy lucid stream&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Thy banks are woody, fertile, green,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Enliven’d by the solar beam.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Thy sons are healthy, blooming, strong,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thy daughters lovely as the spring;</div>
-<div class="verse">They joyful trip the meads along,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Such joys doth sweet industry bring.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Adieu, sweet Tyne&mdash;a long adieu,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">I now must leave thee far behind;</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet tho’ secluded from my view,</div>
-<div class="verse indent1">Thoul’t dwell for ever in my mind.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
-
-<table summary="Contents">
-  <tr>
-    <td></td><td class="tdr"><i>Page</i></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>As I cam thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Whe’s like my Johnny</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>My bonny keel laddie, my canny keel laddie</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>’Twas between Hebbron and Jarrow</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_8">8</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Where hast’te been, ma’ canny hinny</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Fresh I’m cum fra Sandgate Street</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Roll on thy way, thrice happy Tyne</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Near Blackett’s Field, sad hov’ring</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Like wolves of the forest, ferocious and keen</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>When unprovok’d, when foreign foes</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>John Diggons be I, from a Country Town</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>In a battle, you know, we Britons are strong</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Turks, Infidels, Pagans, Jews, Christians and Tartars</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>When Fame brought the news of Great Britain’s success</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The jailor, for trial, had brought up a thief</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ho’way and aw’ll sing thee a tune, mun</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Odd smash! ’tis hard aw can’t rub dust off</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come marrows, we’ve happen’d to meet now</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Fareweel, fareweel, ma comely pet</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ the welkin rebellows</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ our island rebellows</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>As me and my marrow was ganning to wark</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>If I had another penny</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The bonny pit laddie, the cannie pit laddie</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_36"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Hae ye heard o’ these wond’rous dons</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The Baff week is o’er&mdash;no repining&mdash;</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span>On each market day, Sir, the folks on the Quay, Sir</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Lads! myek a ring</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I was a young maiden truly</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>My muse took flight the other day</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>When war’s destructive rage did cease</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Rough roll’d the roaring river’s stream</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Attend to my summons, ye <i>British</i> Electors</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>To sing some nymph in her cot</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>When cooling zephyrs wanton play</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Whilst bards, in strains that sweetly flow</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Oh! where, and oh where does your bonny lassie dwell</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Should the French in Newcastle but dare to appear</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Talk no more of brave Nelson, or gallant Sir Sidney</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>On Rhenish, Medeira, Port, Cleret and Sherry</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ye sons of Parnassus, whose brains are inspir’d</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Who’s he that with great Mercury strides</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Allons, sweet childs, of smooth complexion</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Great was the consternation, amazement and dismay, Sir</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The young brood fairly fledg’d, we may fairly suppose</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>As Neddy and Betty were walking along</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Now fill a bumper to the brim</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I’m lonesome since I left Blyth camps</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>We march’d from the camps with our hearts full of woe</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come fill a bumper to the brim</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come cheer up my hearts, my brave sons of the Tyne</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>What pleasure oft ’tis to reveal</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ha’ ye been at Newcastle fair</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Tho lofty bards sublimer sing</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>When Royal Ge&mdash;e on new year’s day</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Sir James Duncan and Co their kind compliments send</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Liddell, farewell! to all true Britons dear</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>In hollow murmurs o’er the bending reeds</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Of a’ the many bonny corps</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come, haste to Newcastle, ye sons of fair freedom</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The plaint of a mourner, deep sorrow oppres’d with</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_103">103</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Hey, Jacky, ma honey, hae ye seen the new money</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Fra Benton Bank, to Benton town</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Yt fell abowght the Lamasse tyde</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The Perssye came byfore hys oste</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span>It fell and about the Lammas time</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The Persé owt off Northomberlonde</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>God prosper long our noble king</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_128">128</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I have heard of a lilting, at our ewe’s milking</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>From Spey to the border</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>’Twas he that rul’d his Country’s heart</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>On July seventh, the suthe to say</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>When we were silly sisters seven, sisters we were so fair</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>There’s Roadley’s ‘cloud capt’ lofty hill</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Sir Swinton was a doughty knight</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The king is gone from Bambrough Castle</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>On Bamboroughshire’s rocky shore</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The kye are come hame</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_161"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come you lusty Northerne lads</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Here lies the corpse of William Bell</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Wold you please to hear of a sang of dule</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_166"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Old Janus advances all cloathed in white</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_171">171</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The routing the earl of Mar’s forces</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Of all the Kirkharle bonny lasses</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Good people, give ear to the fatalest duel</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ye muses nine, if ye think fit</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Good Master Moody</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The little priest of Felton</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>There lives a lass in Felton town</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_190">190</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>In second part I will declare</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>He’s gone! he’s gone</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>On Saturday</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>God prosper long our noble king</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_197">197</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Callaly Castle stands on a height</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>In Bedlington, there liv’d a fair</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_200">200</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The lady sat in leafy bow’r</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Nought but some dæmon’s baleful step</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Hoot awa’, lads hoot awa’</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ihon Redle that som tim did be</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_210">210</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Howl on ye winds, and beat ye rains</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Oh, have you seen the blushing rose</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_211"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The day was quite pleasant, the Fourteenth of May</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_212">212</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>A bonny swain blithe Sandy nam’d</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span>In Britain’s blest insland there runs a fine river</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Now the feather’d train in each bush</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Apollo, your aid I request</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_217">217</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ye sacred nine descend</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Unsullied mirth attend this feast</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_219">219</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>To fertile soil and fragrant air</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>O bonny Hobby Elliott</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Little wat ye wha’s coming</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Mackintosh was a soldier brave</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_223">223</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The king has written a broad letter</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>How mournful feeble Nature’s tone</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_225"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>In former times where Hexham town doth stand</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_227">227</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Britannia scarce had planted the olive on our isle</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Doctor Moff once more employs the burden of my song</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_229">229</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The first of March, from Cockle Park</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Next day to the Thatchmeadows I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Good fortune still attends the brave</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>A fair reformation would render this nation</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The ploughman he comes home at night</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Sweet thro’ the forest, Coquet flows</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_237"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>At Christmas when the wind blew cauld</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_238">238</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>It happen’d at good Christmas tide</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>About the bush Willy</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I cannot get to my love if I should dee</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_241">241</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>As I went to Newcastle</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_241"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I went to Black Heddon</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>John Thompson, just now</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_242"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Of a Pitman we’ll sing</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_242"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Since Winter’s keen blast must to Zephyr give place</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_243">243</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>All lovers of lucre may <span class="smcapuc">LAUD</span> the <i>Lord Mayor</i></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_245">245</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Northumberland lads are handsome squads</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_247">247</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>A farmer near Felton, fam’d for vulgar fractions</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>All men of high and low degree</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>On travelling down Tweed-side</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_251">251</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Young Solomon, tir’d of a batchelors life</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_252">252</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ah! pen, ink, and paper, proves pleasing</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_253">253</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>There was five wives at Acomb</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Now little Billy is gone to the kirk</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I was young and lusty</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_257"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span>Come, gentlemen attend to my ditty</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_258">258</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I’ll tell you a story, if you please to attend</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_261">261</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>On the banks of the Tees, at Stockton of old</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_262">262</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come, brave spirits, that love Canary</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_264">264</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Upon the stately river Tees</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_265">265</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ye Stockton lads and lasses too</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_267">267</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ye freeholders of Stockton town</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_269">269</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Young men and maidens all, I pray you now attend</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_271">271</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Militia boys for my theme I now chuse</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>’Twas on a summer’s evening</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_275">275</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Rookhope stands in a pleasant place</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_276">276</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come all the gallant brave wenches</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_281">281</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Bobby Shaftoe’s gone to sea</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>In the fine town of Sunderland which stands on a hill</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_283"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>You Sunderland lasses draw near</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ye sons of Sunderland, with shouts that rival ocean’s roar</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Elsie Marley is grown so fine</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_285"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Thro’ Durham County fam’d of old</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come all ye lads who wish to shine</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_288">288</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>And are ye sure the tale is true</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_288"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>When Britannia her sons calls to aid her in arms</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_290">290</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Durham’s old city thus salutes her king</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_291">291</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>As aw was gannin to Durham</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>While visiting this dark abode</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_292"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Lov’d stream, that meanders along</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_293">293</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Its hey for the buff and the blue</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_294">294</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>At home wad I be</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Its o but I ken well</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_296"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Up the raw, ma bonny hinny</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_297">297</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>If you want a busom</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_298">298</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Up the Butcher bank</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_299">299</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Saw ye owt o’ ma’ lad</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_300">300</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Brandling for ever, and Ridley for aye</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_300"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>My laddie sits owre late up</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_301">301</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>They’ve prest my dear Johnny</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_301"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Neighbours I’m come for to tell ye, our skipper and Moll’s to be wed</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Old <i>Jarrow</i>, long fam’d for monastical lore</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_304">304</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The sailors are all at the bar</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_306">306</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span>We’ll all away to the Lowlights</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_306"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Six centeries since, some say, a son of South Seaton</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_307">307</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>God prosper long our <i>warlike</i> king</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_309">309</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>There is not in the world’s terraqueous round</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_310">310</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Whence those <i>cries</i>, my soul that harrow</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_312">312</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>’Bout Lunnun aw’d heard sec wonderful spokes</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_314">314</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Croney its now near thirty year</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>’Tis said that in the good old times</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_319">319</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The Antigallican’s safe arriv’d</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_320">320</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Of Temple and King, my friends, let us sing</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_321">321</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>All the night over and over</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_322">322</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>O lovely Tyne, thy beauty’s seen</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_322"><i>ib.</i></a></td>
-  </tr>
-</table>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 180px;">
-<img src="images/footer-finis.jpg" width="180" height="200" alt="" />
-<p class="caption"><i>Finis</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="titlepage">FROM THE PRESS OF<br />
-M. ANGUS AND SON, NEWCASTLE.</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>INDEX.</h2>
-
-<table summary="Index">
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">A</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td></td><td class="tdr"><i>Page</i></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>As I cam thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>As me and my marrow was ganning to wark</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Attend to my summons, ye <i>British</i> Electors</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Allons, sweet childs, of smooth complexion</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>At Neddy and Betty were walking along</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>A bonny swain, blithe Sandy nam’d</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Apollo, your aid I request</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_217">217</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>A fair reformation would render this nation</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>At Christmas when the wind blew cauld</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_238">238</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>About the bush Willy</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>As I went to Newcastle</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_241">241</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>All lovers of lucre may <span class="smcapuc">LAUD</span> the <i>Lord Mayor</i></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_245">245</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>A farmer near Felton, fam’d for vulgar fractions</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>All men of high and low degree</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ah! pen, ink, and paper, proves pleasing</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_253">253</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>And are ye sure the tale is true</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_288">288</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>As aw was gannin to Durham</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>At home wad I be</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>All the night over and over</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_322">322</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">B</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Britannia scarce had planted the olive on our isle</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Bobby Shaftoe’s gone to sea</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Brandling for ever, and Ridley for aye</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_300">300</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>’Bout Lunaun aw’d heard sec wonderful spokes</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_314">314</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">C</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come marrows, we’ve happen’d to meet now</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span>Come fill a bumper to the brim</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come cheer up my hearts, my brave sons of the Tyne</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come, haste to Newcastle, ye sons of fair freedom</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come you lusty Northerne lads</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Callaly Castle stands on a height</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come, gentlemen attend to my ditty</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_258">258</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come, brave spirits, that love Canary</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_264">264</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come all the gallant brave wenches</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_281">281</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Come all ye lads who wish to shine</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_288">288</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Croney its now near thirty year</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">D</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Doctor Moff once more employs the burden of my song</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_229">229</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Durham’s old city thus salutes her king</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_291">291</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">E</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Elsie Marley is grown so fine</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">F</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Fresh I’m cum fra Sandgate Street</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Fareweel, fareweel, ma comely pet</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Fra Beaton Bank, to Benton town</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>From Spey to the border</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">G</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Great was the consternation, amazement and dismay, Sir</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>God prosper long our noble king</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_128">128</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Good people, give ear to the fatalest duel</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Good Master Moody</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>God prosper long our noble king</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_197">197</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Good fortune still attends the brave</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>God prosper long our <i>warlike</i> king</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_309">309</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">H</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ho’way and aw’ll sing thee a tune, man</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Hae ye heard o’ these wondr’ous dons</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ha’ ye been at Newcastle fair</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Hey, Jacky, ma honey, hae ye seen the new money</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Here lies the corpse of William Bell</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>He’s gone! he’s gone</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Hoot awa’, lads hoot awa’</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Howl on ye winds, and beat ye rains</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>How mournful feeble Nature’s tone</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">I</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>In a battle, you know, we Britons are strong</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span>If I had another penny</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I was a young maiden truly</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I’m lonesome since I left Blyth camps</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>In hollow murmurs o’er the bending reeds</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>It fell and about the Lammas time</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I have heard of a lilting, at our ewe’s milking</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>In second part I will declare</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>In Bedlington, there liv’d a fair</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_200">200</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ihon Redle that som tim did be</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_210">210</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>In Britain’s blest insland there runs a fine river</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>In former times where Hexham town doth stand</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_227">227</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>It happen’d at good Christmas tide</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I cannot get to my love if I should dee</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_241">241</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I went to Black Heddon</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I was young and lusty</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>I’ll tell you a story, if you please to attend</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_261">261</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>In the fine town of Sunderland which stands on a hill</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Its hey for the buff and the blue</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_294">294</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Its O but I ken well</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>If you want a busom</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_298">298</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">J</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>John Diggons be I, from a Country Town</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>John Thompson, just now</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">L</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Like wolves of the forest, ferocious and keen</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Lads! myek a ring</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Liddell, farewell! to all true Britons dear</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Little wat ye wha’s coming</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Lov’d stream, that meanders along</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_293">293</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">M</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>My bonny keel laddie, my canny keel laddie</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>My muse took flight the other day</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Mackintosh was a soldier brave</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_223">223</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Militia boys for my theme I now chuse</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>My laddie sits owre late up</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_301">301</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">N</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Near Blackett’s Field, sad hov’ring</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Now fill a bumper to the brim</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Nought but some demon’s baleful step</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Now the feather’d train in each bush</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span>Next day to the Thatchmeadows I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Northumberland lads are handsome squads</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_247">247</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Now little Billy is gone to the kirk</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Neighbours I’m come for to tell ye, our skipper and Moll’s to be<br />
-wed</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">O</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Odd smash! ’tis hard aw can’t rub dust off</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>On each market day, Sir, the folks on the Quay, Sir</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Oh! where, and oh where does your bonny lassie dwell</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>On Rhenish, Medeira, Port, Cleret and Sherry</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Of a’ the many bonny corps</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>On July seventh, the suthe to say</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>On Saturday</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>O bonny Hobby Elliott</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>On Bamboroughshire’s rocky shore</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Old Janus advances all cloathed in white</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_171">171</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Of all the Kirkharle bonny lasses</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Oh, have you seen the blushing rose</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Of a Pitman we’ll sing</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>On travelling down Tweed-side</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_251">251</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>On the banks of the Tees, at Stockton of old</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_262">262</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Old <i>Jarrow</i>, long fam’d for monastical lore</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_304">304</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Of Temple and King, my friends, let us sing</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_321">321</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>O lovely Tyne, thy beauty’s seen</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_322">322</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">R</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Roll on thy way, thrice happy Tyne</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Rough roll’d the roaring river’s stream</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Rookhope stands in a pleasant place</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_276">276</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">S</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Should the French in Newcastle but dare to appear</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Sir James Duncan and Co. their kind compliments send</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Sir Swinton was a doughty knight</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Sweet thro’ the forest, Coquet flows</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Since Winter’s keen blast must to Zephyr give place</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_243">243</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Saw ye owt o’ ma’ lad</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_300">300</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Six centeries since, some say, a son of South Seaton</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_307">307</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">T</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>’Twas between Hebbron and Jarrow</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_8">8</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Turks, Infidels, Pagans, Jews, Christians and Tartars</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The jailor, for trial, had brought up a thief</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span>The bonny pit laddie, the cannie pit laddie</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The Baff week is o’er&mdash;no repining&mdash;</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>To sing some nymph in her cot</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Talk no more of brave Nelson, or gallant Sir Sidney</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The young brood fairly fledg’d, we may fairly suppose</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Tho’ lofty bards sublimer sing</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The plaint of a mourner, deep sorrow oppres’d with</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_103">103</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The Perssye came byfore hys oste</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The Persé owt off Northomberlonde</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>’Twas he that rul’d his Country’s heart</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>There’s Roadley’s ‘cloud capt’ lofty hill</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The king is gone from Bambrough Castle</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The kye are come hame</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The routing the earl of Mar’s forces</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The little priest of Felton</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>There lives a lass in Felton town</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_190">190</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The lady sat in leafy bow’r</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The day was quite pleasant, the Fourteenth of May</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_212">212</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>To fertile soil and fragrant air</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The king has written a broad letter</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The first of March, from Cockle Park</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The ploughman he comes home at night</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>There was five wives at Acomb</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>’Twas on a summer’s evening</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_275">275</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Thro’ Durham County fam’d of old</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>They’ve prest my dear Johnny</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_301">301</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The sailors are all at the bar</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_306">306</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>There is not in the world’s terraqueous round</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_310">310</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>’Tis said that in the good old times</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_319">319</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>The Antigallican’s safe arriv’d</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_320">320</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">U</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Unsullied mirth attend this feast</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_219">219</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Upon the stately river Tees</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_265">265</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Up the raw, ma bonny hinny</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_297">297</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Up the Butcher bank</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_299">299</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">W</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Whe’s like my Johnny</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Where hast’te been, ma’ canny hinny</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>When unprovok’d, when foreign foes</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span>When Fame brought the news of Great Britain’s success</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ the welkin rebellows</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ our island rebellows</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>When war’s destructive rage did cease</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>When cooling zephyrs wanton play</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Whilst bards, in strains that sweetly flow</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Who’s he that with great Mercury strides</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>We march’d from the camps with our hearts full of woe</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>What pleasure oft ’tis to reveal</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>When Royal Ge&mdash;e on new year’s day</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>When we were silly sisters seven, sisters we were so fair</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Wold you please to hear of a sang of dule</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>When Britannia her sons calls to aid her in arms</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_290">290</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>While visiting this dark abode</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>We’ll all away to the Lowlights</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_306">306</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Whence those <i>cries</i>, my soul that harrow</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_312">312</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td colspan="2" class="tdc">Y</td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ye sons of Parnassus, whose brains are inspir’d</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Yt fell abowght the Lamasse tyde</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ye muses nine, if ye think fit</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ye sacred nine descend</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Young Solomon, tir’d of a batchelors life</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_252">252</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ye Stockton lads and lasses too</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_267">267</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ye freeholders of Stockton town</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_269">269</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Young men and maidens all, I pray you now attend</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_271">271</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>You Sunderland lasses draw near</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td>
-  </tr>
-  <tr>
-    <td>Ye sons of Sunderland, with shouts that rival ocean’s roar</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td>
-  </tr>
-</table>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 180px;">
-<img src="images/footer-finis.jpg" width="180" height="200" alt="" />
-<p class="caption"><i>Finis</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="titlepage">FROM THE PRESS OF<br />
-M. ANGUS AND SON, NEWCASTLE.</p>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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