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HARVARD COLIFGE
MAY 18 1917
LIBNARY
Jublicate more morey
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1835, by CHARLES GAYLORD, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
47
A Highland lad my love was born
Away ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses
As walking forth to view the plain
Assist me ye lads who have hearts void of guile
As gray as a badger, as bald as a Turk
As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping
Adown a dark alley I courted a maid,
And did you ne'er hear of an Irish hay-maker
Away, away to the mountain's brow
At dawn Aurora gaily breaks
Adieu, adieu, my only life
A jolly comrade in the port, a fearless mate at sea 161
Away! away!
A round, a round
A glass is good and a lass is good
A jolly fat Friar lov'd liquor good store
A cobler I am, and my name is Dick Awl
Away with those poor married fellows
A little old woman her living got
As you've call'd upon me to give you a song
A Priest of Kajaaga, as blind as a stone
A story there runs of a marvellous we'l
At the baron of Mowbray's gate
Ah! what is the bosom's commotion
As the sun climbs over the hills
Away my bounding steed, away
As I walk'd out one May morning
A weary lot is thine fair maid
Away with melancholy
Come each gallant lad
Come pass round the glass
Couldst thou look as dear as when
Brave sons of the West
But are you sure the news is true Blow high, blow low, let tempests tear By the side of yon streamlet there grows Ben Backstay was a boatswain
Come strike the bold Anthem
Cease, tempest cease, allay thy power
Come o'er the stream Charlie
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Come, come, bonnie lassie, cried Sandy awa'
Chairs to mend! old chairs to mend!
Come, come my jolly lads
Come, folks, come, to my phrenologic lecturing
Come tell me blue eyed stranger
Come haste thee, come haste thee
Come rest on this bosom
Come hither thou beautiful rover
Come hither poor maiden and yield not to woe
Come over the mountains my bonny Swiss boy
Come, mariner, down in the deep with me
Come ye disconsolate
Come to the sunset tree
Day of glory, welcome day!
Draw the sword, Scotland
Deserted by the waning moon
Dear Erin how sweetly thy green bosom rises
Dear harp of my country
Dame Durden had five serving maids
Dost thou love wandering
Dear Tom this brown jug
Dear Doctor be clever and fling off your beaver
221.
Drink to me only with thine eyes Down in yon village I live so snug Deep in a vale a cottage stood
Devoid of all care was my morning of life Deep in my soul that tender secret dwells Dream baby dream
Ere around the huge oak that o'ershadows yon mill 302
From birth my native and I've own'd From Plymouth in the Vulcan we set sail Friend of my soul this goblet sip
40
132
198
Funny and free are bachelor's revelries Fare thee well and if forever
230
255
Giles Scroggins courted Molly Brown
Gaily the Troubadour touch'd his guitar
Hark! the deep'ning voice of war
Hail to our Chief who in triumph advances
Hey the bonnie, ho the bonnie
45
51
Hail to the chief now he's wet through with whiskey 89
How happy is the sailor's life
137
Here a sheer hulk lies poor Tom Bowling
140
How stands the glass around
165
Hark the muffled drum sounds
172
He comes from the wars from the red field of fight 172
How happy's the soldier who lives on his pay 177
Hark! the goddess Diana
Here's a health to all good lasses
Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen
How bright are the joys of the table
Here Bacchus, here's to thee
How sweet are the flowers that grow How dear to this heart are the scenes
In a chariot of light from the regions of day
If a body meet a body comin' through the rye
I gae' a waefu' gate yestreen
It's the drop of good whiskey
In summer when the leaves were green
I'm a tough true hearted sailor
It oft-times has been told
In the good ship Revenge
I remember the night was stormy and wet
I see them on their winding way
It was Dunois the young and brave
If I had a beau
I love to see the flowing bowl
Irish smugglers
In this life there is joy in this life there is care
It is not for thine eye of blue
Is there a heart that never lov'd
I'd be a butterfly
I knew by the smoke that so gracefully curl'd
I remember, I remember
I love the village church
I've gazed upon thy sunny smile
Indeed my simple tale is true
In a plain pleasant cottage conveniently neat
It is not the tear at this moment shed
If I had thought thou couldst have died
John Anderson, my Jo, John
Jack and I were both messmates
Jack vat are you arter
Kitty Maggs was a servant to farmer Styles
Let us go, lassie, go,
Let us haste to Kelvin grove, bonnie lassie, O