. The English dance of death, from the designs of Thomas Rowlandson;. ly, when you see me come,From foreign lands, victorious home,It then will be my honest pride,To make my Love a Soldiers bride. Dry up your tears, the Serjeant said,* He now pursues a nobler will your warm affections burn,To see your lover soon return;The white plume nodding on his crest;The stamp of honour on his breast;Strutting along in martial pride,The sabre dangling by his 11 then be worthy of your charms,A Hero then will fill your arms. 1 If I were sure he would again,Says Molly, ? view his native pla
. The English dance of death, from the designs of Thomas Rowlandson;. ly, when you see me come,From foreign lands, victorious home,It then will be my honest pride,To make my Love a Soldiers bride. Dry up your tears, the Serjeant said,* He now pursues a nobler will your warm affections burn,To see your lover soon return;The white plume nodding on his crest;The stamp of honour on his breast;Strutting along in martial pride,The sabre dangling by his 11 then be worthy of your charms,A Hero then will fill your arms. 1 If I were sure he would again,Says Molly, ? view his native plain;I d smile and, through the lingring year,His absence would with patience much I fear some fatal blowWill lay my much-lovd Thomas Sexton says he knows you well,And tis an idle tale you tell:That your recruits are always slain,And never see their homes again. VOL. 66 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH Such are the fears that fill my breast,That neer will leave my heart at rest:Such the sad burthen of my story. — Then twill, sweet Girl, be Death andGlory !. ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH 67 THE MAIDEN LADIES Wonders will never cease, tis said,And wondring is an ancient it turnd out one Winters night,It was, indeed, a curious sight,Round a warm fire, in that cold weather,That ten old maids had got together:At least, so far they had miscarried,Not one of them had eer been would be needless to relate,What whimsical, controuling fate,Had kept them in this awkward so it was,—and all the GracesOf vetran age had markd their though they long had ceasd to charm,They still could flourish an alarm,With that same power which does not fail,While Life can furnish out the tale;That instrument so nicely hungIn female form, yclepd a Tongue. 68 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH —Miss Stately opend the Divan,And thus the conversation ran,Upon that Animal calld Man. 1 I think that Nature never gaveThe right he boasts of—to enslaveThe Sex, to whom this titles give
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