Wi' alter'd voice quoth I, "Sweet lass,
Sweet as yon hawthorn's blossom,
Oh, happy, happy may he be

That's dearest to thy bosom !
My purse is light, I've far to gang,
And fain wad be thy lodger ;

I've served my king and country lang,—
Take pity on a sodger."

Sae wistfully she gazed on me,
And lovelier was than ever :
Quo' she, "A sodger ance I lo'ed,
Forget him shall I never;
Our humble cot and hamely fare
Ye freely shall partake o't;
That gallant badge, the dear cockade,
Ye're welcome for the sake o't!"

She gazed-she redden'd like a rose-
Syne pale like ony lily!

She sank within my arms, and cried,
"Art thou my ain dear Willie ?"
"By Him who made yon sun and sky,
By whom true love's regarded,

I am the man; and thus may still
True lovers be rewarded.

"The wars are o'er, and I'm come hame,
And find thee still true-hearted;
Though poor in gear, we're rich in love;
And mair, we'se ne'er be parted."
Quo' she, "My grandsire left me gowd,
A mailen plenish'd fairly;

And come, my faithful sodger lad,

Thou'rt welcome to it dearly!"

For gold the merchant ploughs the main,
The farmer ploughs the manor ;
But glory is the sodger's prize,
The sodger's wealth is honour.

[CHARLES DIBDIN was born in Southampton in the year 1745. He was intended for the Church, but his love of music caused him to relinquish all thoughts of the clerical profession. In 1762, he appeared on the boards of Richmond Theatre, but he did not excel as an actor, though his light dramatic pieces and musical compositions were eminently successful. His spirit-stirring sea-songs were very popular. For some time he enjoyed from Government a pension of 200l. a-year, but on a change of ministry he lost it. Such were his improvident habits, that, had it not been for his friends, who purchased for him an annuity, he would have been plunged in the direst poverty. He died in the year 1814.]

O,

Go, patter to lubbers and swabs, do ye see,

'Bout danger, and fear, and the like;

A tight-water boat and good sea-room give me,
And it an't to a little I'll strike.

Though the tempest top-gallant masts smack smooth should smite,

And shiver each splinter of wood,

Clear the deck, stow the yards, and bouse everything tight, And under reef'd foresail we'll scud :

Avast! nor don't think me a milksop so soft

To be taken for trifles aback;

For they say there's a Providence sits up aloft,
To keep watch for the life of poor Jack!

I heard our good chaplain palaver one day
About souls, heaven, mercy, and such;
And, my timbers! what lingo he'd coil and belay;
Why, 'twas just all as one as High Dutch;

For he said how a sparrow can't founder, d'ye see,
Without orders that come down below;

And a many fine things that proved clearly to me.
That Providence takes us in tow:

For, says he, do you mind me, let storms e'er so oft
Take the top-sails of sailors aback,

There's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft,
To keep watch for the life of poor Jack!

I said to our Poll-for, d'ye see, she would cry-
When last we weigh'd anchor for sea,

What argufies sniv'ling and piping your eye?

Why, what a d

-'d fool you must be!

Can't ye see, the world's wide, there's room for us all, Both for seamen and lubbers ashore ?

And if to old Davy I should go, friend Poll,

You never will hear of me more.

What then? All's a hazard: come, don't be so soft:
Perhaps I may laughing come back;

For, d'ye see, there's a cherub sits smiling aloft,
To keep watch for the life of poor Jack!

D'ye mind me, a sailor should be every inch
All as one as a piece of the ship,

And with her brave the world, not offering to flinch
From the moment the anchor's a-trip.

As for me, in all weathers, all times, sides, and ends, Nought's a trouble from a duty that springs,

For my heart is my Poll's, and my rhino's my friend's, And as for my life 'tis the king's.

Even when my time comes, ne'er believe me so soft As for grief to be taken aback!

For the same little cherub that sits up aloft

Will look out a good berth for poor Jack !

THE THREE WARNINGS.

BY MRS. PIOZZI.—1740-1822.

[THIS well-pointed little story is so superior in finish to the ordinary productions of the reputed authoress that it has often been regarded as owing most of its merits to Dr. Johnson, whose friendship with Mrs. Thrale, afterwards Mrs. Piozzi, is a matter of literary history.]

HE tree of deepest root is found

THE

Least willing still to quit the ground;
"Twas therefore said by ancient sages,
That love of life increased with years

So much, that in our latter stages,
When pains grow sharp and sickness rages,
The greatest love of life appears.

This great affection to believe
Which all confess, but few perceive,
If old assertions can't prevail,

Be pleased to hear a modern tale.

When sports went round, and all were gay,
On neighbour Dodson's wedding day,
Death called aside the jocund groom
With him into another room,

And looking grave--" You must," says he,

Quit your sweet bride and come with me."
"With you! and quit my Susan's side?
With you!" the hapless husband cried;
"Young as I am, 'tis monstrous hard!
Besides, in truth, I'm not prepared :
My thoughts on other matters go;
This is my wedding-day, you know."

What more he urged I have not heard,
His reasons could not well be stronger;
So Death the poor delinquent spared,
And left to live a little longer.