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And now I must die an old maid!
O dear! how shocking the thought!
And all my beauty must fade,
but I’m sure it is not my fault.
And it’s oh! dear. &c.
O dear! how shocking the thought!
And all my beauty must fade,
but I’m sure it is not my fault.
And it’s oh! dear. &c.
The Banks of the Devon.
How pleasant the banks
of the clear winding Devon,
With green spreading bushes,
and flow'rs blooming fair!
But the bonniest flow'r
on the banks of the Devon,
Was once a sweet bude
on the braes of the Air.
of the clear winding Devon,
With green spreading bushes,
and flow'rs blooming fair!
But the bonniest flow'r
on the banks of the Devon,
Was once a sweet bude
on the braes of the Air.
Mild be the Sun
on this sweet blushing flower,
In the gay rosy morn
as it bathos in the dew;
And gentle the fall
of the soft verdant shower,
That steals on the evening,
each leaf to renew.
on this sweet blushing flower,
In the gay rosy morn
as it bathos in the dew;
And gentle the fall
of the soft verdant shower,
That steals on the evening,
each leaf to renew.
O spare the dear blossom,
ye orient breezes,
With chill hoary wing,
as ye usher the dawn;
ye orient breezes,
With chill hoary wing,
as ye usher the dawn;
