300

Let mirth and glee abound!

You'll soon grow bright

With borrowed light,

And shine as he goes round!

THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL.

LET THE TOAST PASS.

HERE 's to the maiden of bashful fifteen ;
Here's to the widow of fifty;

Here's to the flaunting extravagant quean,
And here's to the housewife that 's thrifty.
Let the toast pass,

Drink to the lass,

I'll warrant she 'll prove an excuse for the glass.

Here's to the charmer whose dimples we prize,
Now to the maid who has none, sir :

Here's to the girl with a pair of blue eyes,
And here's to the nymph with but one, sir.
Let the toast pass, &c.

Here's to the maid with a bosom of snow;
Now to her that 's as brown as a berry:
Here's to the wife with a face full of woe,
And now to the damsel that 's merry.
Let the toast pass, &c.

For let 'em be clumsy, or let 'em be slim,
Young or ancient, I care not a feather;

LET THE TOAST PASS.

So fill a pint bumper quite up to the brim,
So fill up your glasses, nay, fill to the brim,
And let us e'en toast them together.

Let the toast pass, &c.1

JOHN O'KEEFE.

1747-1833.

THE HIGHLAND REEL.

SWEET JANE OF GRISIPOLY.

OH, had I Allan Ramsay's art

To sing my passion tender!

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1 These gay and flowing verses, perhaps the most popular of their class in the language, are evidently modelled on the following song in Suckling's play of the Goblins:

This song was appropriated by S. Sheppard, in a comedy called the Committee-man curried, 1647. Sheppard was a notorious plagiarist, and had the audacity to publish the lines without any acknowledgment of the source from whence he stole them.

In every verse she 'd read my heart,
Such soothing strains I'd send her :
Nor his, nor gentle Rizio's aid
To shew is all a folly,

How much I love the charming maid,
Sweet Jane of Grisipoly.

She makes me know what all desire
With such bewitching glances;
Her modest air then checks my fire,
And stops my bold advances :
Meek as the lamb on yonder lawn,
Yet by her conquered wholly;
For sometimes sprightly as the fawn,
Sweet Jane of Grisipoly.

My senses she's bewilder'd quite,

I seem an amorous ninny;

A letter to a friend I write,
For Sandy I sign Jenny :

Last Sunday when from church I came,
With looks demure and holy,

I cried, when asked the text to name, 'T was Jane of Grisipoly.

My Jenny is no fortune great,
And I am poor and lowly;

A straw for power and grand estate,
Her person I love solely :
From every sordid, selfish view,

So free my heart is wholly;
And she is kind as I am true,
Sweet Jane of Grisipoly.

Wind of the summer night!

Where yonder woodbine creeps,

Fold, fold thy pinions light!

She sleeps!

My lady sleeps!

303

ALFRED TENNYSON.

1809-1889. 1892

QUEEN MARY.

THE MILK-MAID'S SONG.

SHAME upon you, Robin,

Shame upon you now!

Kiss me would you? with my hands

Milking the cow?

Daisies grow again,

Kingcups blow again,

And you came and kiss'd me milking the cow.

Robin came behind me,

Kiss'd me well I vow;

Cuff him could I? with my hands

Milking the cow?

Swallows fly again,

Cuckoos cry again,

And you came and kiss'd me milking the cow.

Come, Robin, Robin,

Come and kiss me now;

Help it can I? with my
Milking the cow?
Ringdoves coo again,
All things woo again,

hands

Come behind and kiss me milking the cow.